IF the practical education of the singer be analyzed, it will be found to comprise four fundamental elements:

I have classed these four elements in their relative order. They are, however, of equal importance. Until the Pose and Technique of a voice are satisfactory, attempts to acquire Style are premature. On the other hand, without Style, a well-placed voice and an adequate amount of Technique are incomplete; and until the singer’s education has been rounded off with a RÉpertoire adapted to his individual capabilities, he is of little practical use for professional purposes.

EMISSION OF VOICE

GREAT natural gifts of temperament and originality may, and sometimes do, mask defects of emission, particularly in the case of artists following the operatic career. But the artistic life and success of such a singer is short. Violated Nature rebels, and avenges herself for all infractions of law. A voice that is badly produced or emitted speedily becomes worn, and is easily fatigued. By an additional exertion of physical force, the singer usually attempts to conceal its loss of sonority and carrying-power. The consequences are disastrous for the entire instrument. The medium—to which is assigned the greater portion of every singer’s work—becomes “breathy” and hollow, the lower tones guttural, the higher tones shrill, and the voice, throughout its entire compass, harsh and unmanageable.

In view of its supreme importance, it is scarcely necessary to dwell upon the self-evident fact that this foundation—Emission, or Placing of the voice—should be well laid under the guidance of a skilled and experienced singing-teacher. Nothing but disappointment can ensue if a task of such consequence be confided, as is too frequently the case, to one of the numerous charlatans who, as Oscar Commettant said, “are not able to achieve possibilities, so they promise miracles.” The proper Classification, and subsequent Placing, of a voice require the greatest tact and discernment. True, there are voices so well-defined in character as to occasion no possible error in their proper Classification at the beginning of their studies. But this is not the case with a number of others, particularly those known as voices of mezzo-carattere (demi-caractÈre). It requires a physician of great skill and experience to diagnose an obscure malady; but when once a correct diagnosis is made, many doctors of less eminence might successfully treat the malady, seeing that the recognized pharmacopoeia contains no secret remedies.

Let the student of singing beware of the numerous impostors who claim to have a “Method,” a sort of bed of Procrustes, which the victim, whether long or short, is made to fit. A “method” must be adapted to the subject, not the subject made to fit the method. The object of all teaching is the same, viz., to impart knowledge; but the means of arriving at that end are multiple, and the manner of communicating instruction is very often personal. To imagine that the same mode of procedure, or “method,” is applicable to all voices, is as unreasonable as to expect that the same medicament will apply to all maladies. In imparting a correct emission of voice, science has not infrequently to efface the results of a previous defective use, inherent or acquired, of the vocal organ. Hence, although the object to be attained is in every case the same, the modus operandi will vary infinitely. Nor should these most important branches of Classification and Production be entrusted—as is often the case—to assistants, usually accompanists, lacking the necessary training for a work requiring great experience and ripe judgment. To a competent assistant may very properly be confided the preparation of Technique, as applied to a mechanical instrument: All violins, for instance, are practically the same. But voices differ as do faces.

The present mania for dragging voices up, and out of their legitimate tessitura, has become a very grave evil, the consequences of which, in many instances, have been most disastrous. Tolerable baritones have been transformed into very mediocre tenors, capable mezzo-soprani into very indifferent dramatic soprani, and so on. That this process may have answered in a few isolated cases, where the vocal organs were of such exceptional strength and resistance as to bear the strain, is by no means a guarantee that the same results may be obtained in every instance, and with less favoured subjects. The average compass in male voices is about two octaves minus one or two tones. I mean, of course, tones that are really available when the singer is on the stage and accompanied by an orchestra. Now, a baritone who strives to transform his voice into a tenor, simply loses the two lowest tones of his compass, possibly of good quality and resonance, and gains a minor or major third above the high G (sol) of a very poor, strained character. The compass of the voice remains exactly the same. He has merely exchanged several excellent tones below for some very poor ones above. I repeat, one who aspires to be a lyric artist requires the best possible teacher to guide his first steps; he may consult an inferior or incompetent professor, when so firmly established in the right path that he cannot possibly be led astray.

It is a common belief that singing-teachers of reputation do not care to occupy themselves with voice-production, or are unable to teach it. This is a serious error. A competent professor of singing is as capable of imparting the principles of this most important branch, as of directing the more Æsthetic studies of Style and RÉpertoire. All the really great and illustrious singing-masters of the past preferred to “form” the voices of their pupils. To continue and finish a predecessor’s work, or to erect a handsome and solid structure on defective foundations, is always a difficult task; sometimes an impossible one.

Then, as regards the pupil, particularly one studying with a view to a professional career, a defective preparatory training may eventually mean serious material loss. The money and time spent on his vocal education is, in his case, an investment, not an outlay; the investment will be a poor one, should it be necessary later to devote further time and expend more money to correct natural defects that ought to have been corrected at the beginning of his studies, or to eradicate faults acquired during their progress.

Furthermore, the purpose of some part of a singer’s preliminary education is to strengthen and fit the voice for the exacting demands of a professional career. As the training of an athlete—rower, runner, boxer, wrestler—not only perfects his technical skill, but also, by a process of gradual development, enables him to endure the exceptional strain he will eventually have to bear in a contest, so some of a singer’s early studies prepare his voice for the tax to which hereafter it will be subjected. If those studies have been insufficient, or ill-directed, failure awaits the dÉbutant when he presents himself before the public in a spacious theatre or concert-hall and strives, ineffectually, to dominate the powerful sonorities of the large orchestras which are a necessity for modern scores. A sound and judiciously graduated preparatory training, in fact, is essential if the singer would avoid disappointment or a fiasco.

The vocal education of many students, however, is nowadays hurried through with a haste that is equalled only by the celerity with which such aspirants for lyric honours return to obscurity.