Vocal Mastery by Harriette Brower

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

[Illustration: To Miss Harriette Brower Very Sincerely Enrico Caruso
N.Y. 1919]

VOCAL MASTERY

TALKS WITH MASTER SINGERS AND TEACHERS

COMPRISING INTERVIEWS WITH CARUSO, FARRAR, MAUREL, LEHMANN, AND OTHERS

BY

HARRIETTE BROWER

Author of "Piano Mastery, First and Second Series," "Home-Help in Music
Study," "Self-Help in Piano Study"

WITH TWENTY PORTRAITS

NEW YORK

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY PUBLISHERS

1917,
by OLIVER DITSON COMPANY

1918, 1919,
by THE MUSICAL OBSERVER COMPANY

1920,
by FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY

FOREWORD

It has long been a cherished desire to prepare a series of Talks with
famous Singers, which should have an equal aim with Talks with Master
Pianists, namely, to obtain from the artists their personal ideas
concerning their art and its mastery, and, when possible, some inkling
as to the methods by which they themselves have arrived at the goal.

There have been unexpected and untold difficulties in the way of such an
undertaking. The greater the artist the more numerous the body-guard
which surrounds him--or her; the more stringent the watch over the
artist's time and movements. If one is able to penetrate this barrier
and is permitted to see the artist, one finds usually an affable
gentleman, a charming woman, with simple manners and kindly intentions.

However, when one is fortunate enough to come in touch with great
singers, one finds it difficult to draw from them a definite idea of the
process by which they have achieved victory. A pianist can describe his
manner of tone production, methods of touch, fingering, pedaling; the
violinist can discourse on the bow arm, use of left hand, on staccato
and pizzicati; but the singer is loath to describe his own instrument.
And even if singers could analyze, the description might not fit any
case but their own. For the art of singing is an individual art, the
perfecting an instrument hidden from sight. Each artist must achieve
mastery by overcoming difficulties which beset his own personal path.

Despite these obstacles, every effort has been put forth to induce
artists to speak from an educational standpoint. It is hoped the various
hints and precepts they have given, may prove of benefit to singers and
teachers. Limitations of space prevent the inclusion of many other
artists and teachers.

HARRIETTE BROWER.

150 West 80 Street, New York City.

CONTENTS

FOREWORD

ENRICO CARUSO ... The Value of Work

GERALDINE FARRAR ... The Will to Succeed a Compelling Force

VICTOR MAUREL ... Mind Is Everything

A VISIT TO MME. LILLI LEHMANN

AMELITA GALLI-CURCI ... Self-teaching the Great Essential

GIUSEPPE DE LUCA ... Ceaseless Effort Necessary for Artistic Perfection

LUISA TETRAZZINI ... The Coloratura Voice

ANTONIO SCOTTI ... Training American Singers for Opera

ROSA RAISA ... Patience and Perseverance Win Results

LOUISE HOMER ... The Requirements of a Musical Career

GIOVANNI MARTINELLI ... "Let Us Have Plenty of Opera in America"

ANNA CASE ... Inspired Interpretation

FLORENCE EASTON ... Problems Confronting the Young Singer

MARGUERITE D'ALVAREZ ... The Message of the Singer

MARIA BARRIENTOS ... Be Your Own Critic

CLAUDIA MUZIO ... A Child of the Opera

EDWARD JOHNSON (EDOUARDO DI GIOVANNI) ... The Evolution of an Opera Star

REINALD WERRENRATH ... Achieving Success on the Concert Stage

SOPHIE BRASLAU ... Making a Career in America

MORGAN KINGSTON ... The Spiritual Side of the Singer's Art

FRIEDA HEMPEL ... A Lesson with a Prima Donna

WITH THE MASTER TEACHERS

DAVID BISPHAM ... The Making of Artist Singers

OSCAR SAENGER ... Use of Records in Vocal Study

HERBERT WITHERSPOON ... Memory, Imagination, Analysis

YEATMAN GRIFFITH ... Causation

J.H. DUVAL ... Some Secrets of Beautiful Singing

THE CODA ... A Resume

ILLUSTRATIONS

Enrico Caruso _Frontispiece_

Geraldine Farrar

Victor Maurel

Amelita Galli-Curci

Giuseppe de Luca

Luisa Tetrazzini

Antonio Scotti

Rosa Raisa

Louise Homer

Giovanni Martinelli

Anna Case

Florence Easton

Marguerite d'Alvarez

Maria Barrientos

Claudia Muzio

Edward Johnson

Reinald Werrenrath

Sophie Braslau

Morgan Kingston

Frieda Hempel

VOCAL MASTERY

I

=ENRICO CARUSO=

THE VALUE OF WORK

Enrico Caruso! The very name itself calls up visions of the greatest
operatic tenor of the present generation, to those who have both heard
and seen him in some of his many roles. Or, to those who have only
listened to his records, again visions of the wonderful voice, with its
penetrating, vibrant, ringing quality, the impassioned delivery, which
stamps every note he sings with the hall mark of genius, the tremendous,
unforgettable climaxes. Not to have heard Caruso sing is to have missed
something out of life; not to have seen him act in some of his best
parts is to have missed the inspiration of great acting. As Mr. Huneker
once wrote: "The artistic career of Caruso is as well known as that of
any great general or statesman; he is a national figure. He is a great
artist, and, what is rarer, a genuine man."

And how we have seen his art grow and ripen, since he first began to
sing for us. The date of his first appearance at the Metropolitan Opera
House, New York, was November 23rd, 1903. Then the voice was marvelous
in its freshness and beauty, but histrionic development lagged far
behind. The singer seemed unable to make us visualize the characters he
endeavored to portray. It was always Caruso who sang a certain part; we
could never forget that. But constant study and experience have
eliminated even this defect, so that to-day the singer and actor are
justly balanced; both are superlatively great. Can any one who hears and
sees Caruso in the role of Samson, listen unmoved to the throbbing wail
of that glorious voice and the unutterable woe of the blind man's
poignant impersonation?

IN EARLY DAYS

Enrico Caruso was born in Naples, the youngest of nineteen children. His
father was an engineer and the boy was taught the trade in his father's
shop, and was expected to follow in his father's footsteps. But destiny
decreed otherwise. As he himself said, to one listener:

"I had always sung as far back as I can remember, for the pure love of
it. My voice was contralto, and I sang in a church in Naples from
fourteen till I was eighteen. Then I had to go into the army for awhile.
I had never learned how to sing, for I had never been taught. One day a
young officer of my company said to me: 'You will spoil your voice if
you keep on singing like that'--for I suppose I was fond of shouting in
those days. 'You should learn _how_ to sing,' he said to me; 'you must
study.' He introduced me to a young man who at once took an interest in
me and brought me to a singing master named Vergine. I sang for him, but
he was very discouraging. His verdict was it would be hopeless to try to
make a singer out of me. As it was, I might possibly earn a few lire a
night with my voice, but according to his idea I had far better stick to
my father's trade, in which I could at least earn forty cents a day.

"But my young friend would not give up so easily. He begged Vergine to
hear me again. Things went a little better with me the second time and
Vergine consented to teach me.

RIGID DISCIPLINE

"And now began a period of rigid discipline. In Vergine's idea I had
been singing too loud; I must reverse this and sing everything softly.
I felt as though in a strait-jacket; all my efforts at expression were
most carefully repressed; I was never allowed to let out my voice. At
last came a chance to try my wings in opera, at ten lire a night
($2.00). In spite of the regime of repression to which I had been
subjected for the past three years, there were still a few traces of my
natural feeling left. The people were kind to me and I got a few
engagements. Vergine had so long trained me to sing softly, never
permitting me to sing out, that people began to call me the Broken
Tenor.

THE FIRST REAL CHANCE

"A better chance came before long. In 1896 the Opera House in Salerno
decided to produce _I Puritani_. At the last moment the tenor they had
engaged to sing the leading role became ill, and there was no one to
sing the part. Lombardi, conductor of the orchestra, told the directors
there was a young singer in Naples, about eighteen miles away, who he
knew could help them out and sing the part. When they heard the name
Caruso, they laughed scornfully. 'What, the Broken Tenor?' they asked.
But Lombardi pressed my claim, assured them I could be engaged, and no
doubt would be glad to sing for nothing.

"So I was sent for. Lombardi talked with me awhile first. He explained
by means of several illustrations, that I must not stand cold and stiff
in the middle of the stage, while I sang nice, sweet tones. No, I must
let out my voice, I must throw myself into the part, I must be alive to
it--must live it and in it. In short, I must act as well as sing.

A REVELATION

"It was all like a revelation to me. I had never realized before how
absolutely necessary it was to act out the character I attempted. So I
sang _I Puritani_, with as much success as could have been expected of a
young singer with so little experience. Something awoke in me at that
moment. From that night I was never called a 'Broken Tenor' again. I
made a regular engagement at two thousand lire a month. Out of this I
paid regularly to Vergine the twenty-five per cent which he always
demanded. He was somewhat reconciled to me when he saw that I had a real
engagement and was making a substantial sum, though he still insisted
that I would lose my voice in a few years. But time passes and I am
still singing.

RESULTS OF THE REVELATION

"The fact that I could secure an opera engagement made me realize I had
within me the making of an artist, if I would really labor for such an
end. When I became thoroughly convinced of this, I was transformed from
an amateur into a professional in a single day. I now began to take care
of myself, learn good habits, and endeavored to cultivate my mind as
well as my voice. The conviction gradually grew upon me that if I
studied and worked, I would be able one day to sing in such a way as to
satisfy myself."

THE VALUE OF WORK TO THE SINGER

Caruso believes in the necessity for work, and sends this message to all
ambitious students: "To become a singer requires work, work, and again
work! It need not be in any special corner of the earth; there is no one
spot that will do more for you than other places. It doesn't matter so
much where you are, if you have intelligence and a good ear. Listen to
yourself; your ear will tell you what kind of tones you are making. If
you will only use your own intelligence you can correct your own
faults."

CEASELESS STUDY

This is no idle speech, voiced to impress the reader. Caruso practices
what he preaches, for he is an incessant worker. Two or three hours in
the forenoon, and several more later in the day, whenever possible. He
does not neglect daily vocal technic, scales and exercises. There are
always many roles to keep in rehearsal with the accompanist. He has a
repertoire of seventy roles, some of them learned in two languages.
Among the parts he has prepared but has never sung are: _Othello, Fra
Diavolo, Eugen Onegin, Pique Dame, Falstaff_ and _Jewels of the
Madonna_.

Besides the daily review of opera roles, Caruso examines many new songs;
every day brings a generous supply. Naturally some of these find their
way into the waste basket; some are preserved for reference, while the
favored ones which are accepted must be studied for use in recital.

I had the privilege, recently, of spending a good part of one forenoon
in Mr. Caruso's private quarters at his New York Hotel, examining a
whole book full of mementos of the Jubilee celebration of March, 1919,
on the occasion when the great tenor completed twenty-five years of
activity on the operatic stage. Here were gathered telegrams and
cablegrams from all over the world. Many letters and cards of greeting
and congratulation are preserved in this portly volume. Among them one
noticed messages from Mme. Schumann-Heink, the Flonzaley Quartet,
Cleofonte Campanini and hosts of others. Here, too, is preserved the
Jubilee Programme booklet, also the libretto used on that gala occasion.
Music lovers all over the world will echo the hope that this wonderful
voice may be preserved for many years to come!

A LAST WORD

The above article was shown to Mr. Caruso, at his request, and I was
asked a few days later to come to him. There had been the usual
rehearsal at the Opera House that day. "Ah, those rehearsals," exclaimed
the secretary, stopping his typewriter for an instant; "no one who has
never been through it has any idea of what a rehearsal means." And he
lifted hands and eyes expressively. "Mr. Caruso rose at eight, went to
rehearsal at ten and did not finish till after three. He is now resting,
but will see you in a moment."

Presently the great tenor opened the door and entered. He wore a
lounging coat of oriental silk, red bordered, and on the left hand
gleamed a wonderful ring, a broad band of dull gold, set with diamonds,
rubies and sapphires. He shook hands, said he had read my story, that it
was quite correct and had his entire approval.

"And have you a final message to the young singers who are struggling
and longing to sing some day as wonderfully as you do?"

"Tell them to study, to work always,--and--to sacrifice!"

His eyes had a strange, inscrutable light in them, as he doubtless
recalled his own early struggles, and life of constant effort.

And so take his message to heart:

"Work, work--and--sacrifice!"

II

=GERALDINE FARRAR=

THE WILL TO SUCCEED A COMPELLING FORCE

"To measure the importance of Geraldine Farrar (at the Metropolitan
Opera House, New York) one has only to think of the void there would
have been during the last decade, and more, if she had not been there.
Try to picture the period between 1906 and 1920 without Farrar--it is
inconceivable! Farrar, more than any other singer, has been the
triumphant living symbol of the new day for the American artist at the
Metropolitan. She paved the way. Since that night, in 1906, when her
Juliette stirred the staid old house, American singers have been added
year by year to the personnel. Among these younger singers there are
those who will admit at once that it was the success of Geraldine Farrar
which gave them the impetus to work hard for a like success."

[Illustration: GERALDINE FARRAR]

These thoughts have been voiced by a recent reviewer, and will find a
quick response from young singers all over the country, who have been
inspired by the career of this representative artist, and by the
thousands who have enjoyed her singing and her many characterizations.

I was present on the occasion of Miss Farrar's debut at the greatest
opera house of her home land. I, too, was thrilled by the fresh young
voice in the girlish and charming impersonation of Juliette. It is a
matter of history that from the moment of her auspicious return to
America she has been constantly before the public, from the beginning to
end of each operatic season. Other singers often come for part of the
season, step out and make room for others. But Miss Farrar, as well as
Mr. Caruso, can be depended on to remain.

Any one who gives the question a moment's thought, knows that such a
career, carried through a score of years, means constant, unremitting
labor. There must be daily work on vocal technic; repertoire must be
kept up to opera pitch, and last and perhaps most important of all, new
works must be sought, studied and assimilated.

The singer who can accomplish these tasks will have little or no time
for society and the gay world, inasmuch as her strength must be devoted
to the service of her art. She must keep healthy hours, be always ready
to appear, and never disappoint her audiences. And such, according to
Miss Farrar's own words is her record in the service of art.

While zealously guarding her time from interruption from the merely
curious, Miss Farrar does not entrench herself behind insurmountable
barriers, as many singers seem to do, so that no honest seeker for her
views of study and achievement can find her. While making a rule not to
try voices of the throng of young singers who would like to have her
verdict on their ability and prospects, Miss Farrar is very gracious to
those who really need to see her. Again--unlike others--she will make an
appointment a couple of weeks in advance, and one can rest assured she
will keep that appointment to the day and hour, in spite of many
pressing calls on her attention.

To meet and talk for an hour with an artist who has so often charmed you
from the other side of the footlights, is a most interesting experience.
In the present instance it began with my being taken up to Miss Farrar's
private sanctum, at the top of her New York residence. Though this is
her den, where she studies and works, it is a spacious parlor, where all
is light, color, warmth and above all, _quiet_. A thick crimson carpet
hushes the footfall. A luxurious couch piled with silken cushions, and
comfortable arm chairs are all in the same warm tint; over the grand
piano is thrown a cover of red velvet, gold embroidered. Portraits of
artists and many costly trifles are scattered here and there. The young
lady who acts as secretary happened to be in the room and spoke with
enthusiasm of the singer's absorption in her work, her delight in it,
her never failing energy and good spirits. "From the day I heard Miss
Farrar sing I felt drawn to her and hoped the time would come when I
could serve her in some way. I did not know then that it would be in
this way. Her example is an inspiration to all who come in touch with
her."

In a few moments Miss Farrar herself appeared, and the young girl
withdrew.

And was this Farrar who stood before me, in the flush of vigorous
womanhood, and who welcomed me so graciously? The first impression was
one of friendliness and sincerity, which caused the artist for the
moment to be forgotten in the unaffected simplicity of the woman.

Miss Farrar settled herself comfortably among the red silk cushions and
was ready for our talk. The simplicity of manner was reflected in her
words. She did not imply--there is only one right way, and I have found
it. "These things seem best for my voice, and this is the way I work.
But, since each voice is different, they might not fit any one else. I
have no desire to lay down rules for others; I can only speak of my own
experience."

THE QUESTION OF HEALTH

"And you would first know how I keep strong and well and always ready?
Perhaps the answer is, I keep regular hours and habits, and love my
work. I have always loved to sing, as far back as I can remember. Music
means everything to me--it is my life. As a child and young girl, I was
the despair of my playmates because I would not join their games; I did
not care to skate, play croquet or tennis, or such things. I never
wanted to exercise violently, and, to me, unnecessarily, because it
interfered with my singing; took energy which I thought might be better
applied. As I grew older I did not care to keep late hours and be in an
atmosphere where people smoked and perhaps drank, for these things were
bad for my voice and I could not do my work next day. My time is always
regularly laid out. I rise at half past seven, and am ready to work at
nine. I do not care to sit up late at night, either, for I think late
hours react on the voice. Occasionally, if we have a few guests for
dinner, I ask them, when ten thirty arrives, to stay as long as they
wish and enjoy themselves, but I retire.

TECHNICAL STUDY

"There are gifted people who may be called natural born singers. Melba
is one of these. Such singers do not require much technical practice, or
if they need a little of it, half an hour a day is sufficient. I am not
one of those who do not need to practice. I give between one and two
hours daily to vocalizes, scales and tone study. But I love it! A scale
is beautiful to me, if it is rightly sung. In fact it is not merely a
succession of notes; it represents color. I always translate sound into
color. It is a fascinating study to make different qualities of tonal
color in the voice. Certain roles require an entirely different range of
colors from others. One night I must sing a part with thick, heavy,
rich tones; the next night my tones must be thinned out in quite another
timbre of the voice, to fit an opposite character."

Asked if she can hear herself, Miss Farrar answered:

"No, I do not actually hear my voice, except in a general way; but we
learn to know the sensations produced in muscles of throat, head, face,
lips and other parts of the anatomy, which vibrate in a certain manner
to correct tone production. We learn the _feeling_ of the tone.
Therefore every one, no matter how advanced, requires expert advice as
to the results.

WITH LEHMANN

"I have studied for a long time with Lilli Lehmann in Berlin; in fact I
might say she is almost my only teacher, though I did have some
instruction before going to her, both in America and Paris. You see, I
always sang, even as a very little girl. My mother has excellent taste
and knowledge in music, and finding I was in danger of straining my
voice through singing with those older than myself, she placed me with a
vocal teacher when I was twelve, as a means of preservation.

"Lehmann is a wonderful teacher and an extraordinary woman as well.
What art is there--what knowledge and understanding! What intensity
there is in everything she does. She used to say: 'Remember, these four
walls which inclose you, make a very different space to fill compared to
an opera house; you must take this fact into consideration and study
accordingly.' No one ever said a truer word. If one only studies or
sings in a room or studio, one has no idea of what it means to fill a
theater. It is a distinct branch of one's work to gain power and control
and to adapt one's self to large spaces. One can only learn this by
doing it.

"It is sometimes remarked by listeners at the opera, that we sing too
loud, or that we scream. They surely never think of the great size of
the stage, of the distance from the proscenium arch to the footlights,
or from the arch to the first set of wings. They do not consider that
within recent years the size of the orchestra has been largely
increased, so that we are obliged to sing against this great number of
instruments, which are making every possible kind of a noise except that
of a siren. It is no wonder that we must make much effort to be heard:
sometimes the effort may seem injudicious. The point we must consider
is to make the greatest possible effect with the least possible
exertion.

"Lehmann is the most painstaking, devoted teacher a young singer can
have. It is proof of her excellent method and her perfect understanding
of vocal mastery, that she is still able to sing in public, if not with
her old-time power, yet with good tone quality. It shows what an artist
she really is. I always went over to her every summer, until the war
came. We would work together at her villa in Gruenewald, which you
yourself know. Or we would go for a holiday down nearer Salzburg, and
would work there. We always worked wherever we were.

MEMORIZING

"How do I memorize? I play the song or role through a number of times,
concentrating on both words and music at once. I am a pianist anyway;
and committing to memory is very easy for me. I was trained to learn by
heart from the very start. When I sang my little songs at six years old,
mother would never let me have any music before me: I must know my songs
by heart. And so I learned them quite naturally. To me singing was like
talking to people.

CONTRASTING COLORATURA AND DRAMATIC SINGING

"You ask me to explain the difference between the coloratura and the
dramatic organ. I should say it is a difference of timbre. The
coloratura voice is bright and brilliant in its higher portion, but
becomes weaker and thinner as it descends; whereas the dramatic voice
has a thicker, richer quality all through, especially in its lower
register. The coloratura voice will sing upper C, and it will sound very
high indeed. I might sing the same tone, but it would sound like A flat,
because the tone would be of such totally different timbre.

TO THE YOUNG SINGER

"If I have any message to the young singer, it would be: Stick to your
work and study systematically, whole-heartedly. If you do not love your
work enough to give it your best thought, to make sacrifices for it,
there is something wrong with you. Then choose some other line of work,
to which you can give undivided attention and devotion. For music
requires this. As for sacrifices, they really do not exist, if they
promote the thing you honestly love most.

"Do not fancy you can properly prepare yourself in a short time to
undertake a musical career, for the path is a long and arduous one. You
must never stop studying, for there is always so much to learn. If I
have sung a role a hundred times, I always find places that can be
improved; indeed I never sing a role twice exactly in the same way. So,
from whatever side you consider the singer's work and career, both are
of absorbing interest.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13