*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42080 ***

  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE.

  The original print of this book uses Helmholtz pitch notation,
  where middle-C is represented by a lowercase c with one over-line,
  the C above with two over-lines, etc. For accessibility, I have
  used the alternative convention of using numbers after the note
  name, thus:

  C₁ ... C ... c d e f g a b c¹ d¹ e¹ f¹ g¹ a¹ b¹ c² ... c³ ... c⁴

  (C₁ = 3 octaves below middle-C, c⁴ = 3 octaves above middle-C)

  A few corrections have been made to spelling and punctuation.
  A list of these amendments can be found at the end of the text.




THE VOICE IN SINGING


  TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF

  EMMA SEILER

  Member of the American Philosophical Society


  A NEW EDITION
  REVISED AND ENLARGED


  PHILADELPHIA
  J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO
  1879




  Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
  J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.,
  In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.


  Lippincott's Press,
  Philadelphia.




CONTENTS

                         PAGE
  Translator's Preface     7

  Introduction            11

    I Vocal Music         15

   II Physiological       36

  III Physical            85

   IV Æsthetic           143

  Appendix               185




TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE


The translator of this book, desirous, in common with other
friends of its author, that her claims as a lady of rare
scientific attainments should be recognized in this country,
where she has recently taken up her abode, has obtained her
consent to the publication of the following testimonials to
her position in her own country from gentlemen of the highest
eminence in science:

  [TRANSLATED]

  Mad. Emma Seiler has dwelt for a long time here in Heidelberg,
  and given instruction in singing. She has won the reputation
  of a very careful, skilled and learned teacher, possessing
  a fine ear and cultivated taste. While engaged on my book,
  “Die Lehre von den Tonempfindungen, &c.,” I had the honor of
  becoming acquainted with Mad. Seiler, and of being assisted by
  her in my essay upon the formation of the vowel tones and the
  registers of the female voice. I have thus had an opportunity
  of knowing the delicacy of her musical ear and her ability to
  master the more difficult and abstract parts of the theory of
  music.

  I have pleasure in bearing this testimony to her worth, in the
  hope of securing for her the confidence and the encouragement
  of those who are interested in the scientific culture of music,
  and who know how desirable it is that an instructress in the
  art of singing should be possessed of scientific knowledge,
  a fine ear, and a cultivated taste.

          (Signed)          Dr. H. Helmholtz,

              Prof. of Physiology, Member of the Academies and
                  Royal Societies of London, Edinburgh, Amsterdam,
                  Stockholm, Berlin, Vienna, Munich, Göttingen.

  Heidelberg, Aug. 5, 1866


  [TRANSLATED]

  Mad. E. Seiler has made for herself an honorable name in Germany,
  not only as a practical teacher of singing, but also by her
  valuable investigations in regard to the culture of the musical
  voice. By her own anatomical studies she has acquired a thorough
  knowledge of the vocal organs, and by means of the laryngoscope has
  advanced, in the way first trodden by Garcia, to the establishment
  of the conditions of the formation of the voice. We owe to her
  a more exact knowledge of the position of the larynx, and of its
  parts in the production of the several registers of the human
  voice; and she appears especially to have brought to a final and
  satisfactory decision the much-vexed question respecting the
  formation of the so-called _fistel tones_ (head tones). She has
  been associated with the best powers possessed by Germany in the
  department of the theory of music and physiological acoustics,
  standing by the side of the celebrated physiologist, Helmholtz,
  while he was engaged in his physiologico-acoustic work upon the
  generation of the vowels and the nature of harmony.

          (Signed)          E. du Bois-Reymond,

    Professor of Physiology in the Royal University of Berlin.

  Berlin, July 17, 1866

In a letter, written in English, addressed to the President and
Members of the American Philosophical Society, Professor du
Bois-Reymond introduces Mrs. Seiler (italicizing the words) “_as
a lady of truly remarkable scientific attainments_.” “Prompted,”
he states, “by a spirit of philosophical inquiry, not frequently
met with in her sex, she has made herself entirely acquainted
with all the facts and theories concerning the production of the
human voice. She has entered, deeper probably than any one else
before her, into the study of the problem of the different
registers of the human voice. Most of her results she has
published in a pamphlet under the title: Altes und Neues über
die Ausbildung des Gesangorganes (Leipzig, 1861), which has
received the approbation of both the physiologists and the
singing masters of this country.”

       *       *       *       *       *

The translator takes the opportunity to state that, as he
makes no pretensions to any knowledge either of the science
or of the art of music, his translation has been carefully
revised by persons entirely competent to correct its musical
phraseology.

                              W. H. F.

Philadelphia, December, 1867.




INTRODUCTION


In giving to the public these fruits of years of earnest labor,
and in attempting to bring into harmony things which have always
been treated separately, the Science and the Art of Singing, it
seems necessary that I should state the reasons that prompted me
to this study.

As I had for many years the advantage of the best tuition, both
German and Italian, in the Art of Singing, and had often sung
with favor in concerts, I was led to believe myself qualified to
become a teacher of this art. But hardly had I undertaken the
office before I felt that, while I was able to teach my pupils to
execute pieces of music with tolerable accuracy and with the
appropriate expression, I was wanting in the knowledge of any
sure starting-point, any sound principle, from which to proceed
in the special culture of any individual voice. In order to
obtain the knowledge which thus appeared to be requisite in
a teacher of vocal music, I examined the best schools of singing;
and when I learned nothing from them that I did not already know,
I sought the most celebrated teachers of singing to learn what
was wanting. But what one teacher announced to me as a rule was
usually rejected by another. Every teacher had his own peculiar
system of instruction. No one could give me any definite reasons
therefor, and the best assured me that so exact a method as
I sought did not exist, and that every teacher must find his own
way through his own experience. In such a state of darkness and
uncertainty, to undertake to instruct others appeared to me
a manifest wrong, for in no branch of instruction can the
ignorance of the teacher do greater injury than in the teaching
of vocal music. This I unhappily learned from my own personal
experience, when, under the tuition of a most eminent teacher,
I entirely lost my voice, whereby the embarrassment I was under,
so far from being diminished, was only increased. After this
misfortune I studied under _Frederick Wiek_, in Dresden (the
father and instructor of Clara Schumann), in order to become
a teacher on the piano. But while I thus devoted myself to this
branch of teaching exclusively, it became from that time the aim
and effort of my life to obtain such a knowledge of the human
voice as is indispensable to a natural and healthy development
of its beautiful powers.

I availed myself of every opportunity to hear Jenny Lind, who
was then dwelling in Dresden, and to learn all that I could from
her. I likewise hoped, by a protracted abode in Italy, the land
of song, to attain the fulfilment of my wishes; but, beyond
certain practical advantages, I gathered there no sure and
radical knowledge. In the French method of instruction, now so
popular, I found the same superficiality and uncertainty that
existed everywhere else. But the more deeply I was impressed
with this state of things, and the more fully I became aware of
the injurious and trying consequences of the method of teaching
followed at the present day, the more earnestly was I impelled
to press onward in search of light and clearness in this dim
domain.

Convinced that only by the way of scientific investigation the
desired end could be reached, I sought the counsel of Prof.
_Helmholtz_, in Heidelberg. This distinguished man was then
engaged in a scientific inquiry into the natural laws lying at
the basis of musical sounds. Prof. Helmholtz permitted me to
take part in his investigations, and at his kind suggestion
I attempted by myself, by means of the laryngoscope, to
observe the physiological processes that go on in the larynx
during the production of different tones. My special thanks
are due to him that now, with a more thorough knowledge of the
human voice, I can give instruction in singing without the
fear of doing any injury. My thanks are due in a like manner
to Prof. _du Bois-Reymond_, in Berlin, who, at a later period,
also gave me his friendly help in my studies.

In 1861 I published a part of my investigations in Germany,
where they found acknowledgment and favor. That little work is
contained in the following pages, together with some account of
the discoveries of Professor _Helmholtz_ relating to the human
voice, and of their practical application to the education of
the voice in singing.

The practical sense of the American people enables them, above
all others, to appreciate the worth of every discovery and of
every advance. And therefore it is my earnest hope that the
publication of these investigations in this country may help
to elevate and improve the Art of Singing.




THE VOICE IN SINGING




I

VOCAL MUSIC

ITS RISE, DEVELOPMENT AND DECLINE


It is a matter of complaint among all persons of good taste, who take
an intelligent interest in art, and especially in music, that fine
singers are becoming more and more rare, while formerly there appears
never to have been any lack of men and women eminent in this art. The
complaint seems not altogether without reason, when we revert to that
rich summer-time of song, not yet lying very far behind us, in the
last half of the last century, and compare it with the present. The
retrospect shows us plainly that the art of singing has descended
from its former high estate, and is now in a condition of decline.
When we consider what is told us in the historical works of _Forkel_,
_Burney_, _Kiesewetter_, _Brendel_ and others, and compare it with
our present poverty in good voices and skilful artists, we are struck
with the multitude of fine voices then heard, with their remarkable
fulness of tone, as well as with the considerable number of
singers--male and female--appearing at the same time.

We first recall to mind the last great artists of that time,
whose names are familiar to us because they appeared in public
after the beginning of the present century:--_Catalani_, who
preserved to extreme old age the melody and enormous power of
her voice; _Malibran_, _Sontag_, _Vespermann_, &c.; the men
singers, _Rubini_, _Tamburini_, _Lablache_, and others; and,
still farther back, _Mara_, whose voice had a compass, with
equal fulness of tone, of three octaves, and who possessed such
a power of musical utterance that she imitated within the
compass of her voice the most difficult passages of the violin
and flute with perfect facility. Then comes the artiste
_Ajugara Bastardella_, in Parma, who executed with purity and
distinctness the most difficult passages from si (b) to si
(b³), and roulades with successive trills, with enchanting
harmony; and the old Italian singing-masters, who sang and
taught with an art which we should scarcely hold possible, were
it not for the unanimous testimony of their contemporaries.
There were _Porpora_ and his pupil _Perugia_, who sang two full
octaves, with successive trills up and down in one breath, and
executed with perfect exactness all the tones of the chromatic
scale without an accompaniment; and _Farinelli_, who to his
latest age preserved his wonderfully beautiful voice. Of him
it is related, among other things, that on one occasion he
competed with a trumpeter, who accompanied him in an aria.
After both had several times dwelt on notes in which each
sought to excel the other in power and duration, they prolonged
a note with a double trill in thirds, which they continued
until both seemed to be exhausted. At last the trumpeter gave
up, entirely out of breath, while Farinelli, without taking
breath, prolonged the note with renewed volume of sound,
trilling and ending, finally, with the most difficult of
roulades. _Pistochi_ and _Bernucchi_ rivalled Farinelli. The
latter, although he had received from nature a refractory voice
of little excellence, nevertheless succeeded in cultivating it
so highly that he became one of the most distinguished artists
of his day, called by Händel and Graun, “The King of Singers.”

It is impossible to mention by name all the many singers, male
and female, who won applause and renown in the beginning and in
the middle of the last century. Almost every European state was
furnished with most excellent operas, and troops of artists,
men and women, with voices of the highest cultivation, flocked
thither. Even in the streets and inns and other places in
Italy, where elsewhere we are accustomed to seek only music of
the lowest kind, one could then hear the most artistic vocal
music, such as was found in the churches, concert-saloons and
theatres of Germany and France.

It appears that far greater demands were made upon singers then
than now-a-days. At least, history celebrates, together with
the great vocal flexibility of the earlier singers, the measured
beauty of their singing, the noble tone, the thoroughly cultivated
delivery, by which they showed themselves true artists, and
produced upon their hearers effects almost miraculous.

On the other hand, how sad is the condition of vocal music in
our time! How few artistically cultivated voices are there!
And the few that there are, how soon are they used up and
lost! Artists like _Lind_, and more recently _Trebelli_,
are exceptions to be made.

Mediocre talent is now often sought, and rewarded far beyond its
desert. One is often tempted to think that the public at large has
wellnigh lost all capacity of judgment, when he witnesses the
representation of one of our operas. Let a singer, male or female,
only drawl the notes sentimentally one into another, execute
a tremulo upon prolonged notes, introduce very often the softest
piano and just where it is entirely out of place, growl out the
lowest notes in the roughest timbre, and scream out the high notes
lustily, and he or she may reckon with certainty upon the greatest
applause. In fact, we have become so easily pleased that even an
impure execution is suffered to pass without comment. Let the
personal appearance of the singer only be handsome and prepossessing,
he need trouble himself little about his art in order to win the
favor of the public. This decline of the art of singing is usually
ascribed to the want of good voices, and this poverty of voices
to our altered modes of living. To me it appears as the natural
consequence of the whole manner and way in which the art of singing
has been historically developed since its earlier high state of
perfection.

The human voice is, of all instruments, the most natural, the
most perfect, the most intimate in its relation to us, as,
for the use of it, we have a talent or faculty innate, which,
in the case of other instruments, can only be laboriously
acquired, to say nothing of the fact that these instruments
are first to be invented and put together. Hence vocal music
appears to have been almost the only music among the Greeks,
and the rude instruments then in use served merely for an
accompaniment. The history of our so-called _Western_ music,
which dates no farther back than the fourth century after
Christ, tells us hardly anything else than of vocal musicians
and of their compositions for concerted and chorus singing.

Our art, only slowly developing itself from those earliest
times, was cherished, mainly in Italy, for the sole purpose of
exalting divine worship. We have, at least, no account of any
secular art of music in those days. As yet unacquainted with
harmony, the only singing was _in unison_, as was the custom,
at an earlier period, among the Greeks; for not until the tenth
century of the Christian era was it attempted, and then by a
Flemish monk (_Hukbaldus_), to harmonize several and different
notes; thus was invented and founded our harmony, whose exponent
was the organ.[1]

From that time forward, history makes mention of many persons who
labored worthily, now more and now less, to create a theory of music,
seeking to found a system of harmony upon that rude beginning, and by
degrees to improve it. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries music
burst forth into blossom in the Netherlands, and thenceforth rose
steadily in excellence, when also it began to branch out into the
excesses of counterpoint. The fame of the Netherlands soon spread over
all the civilized countries of Europe. The artists of the Netherlands
were invited upon the most favorable terms to Italy, France, Spain,
and Germany, and thus the progress of music spread over all these
countries almost _pari passu_. For two hundred years the Netherlands
maintained the reputation of the best and highest culture in vocal
music, and not until the middle of the sixteenth century did there
appear in Italy and Germany artists who attained to a like renown. Up
to that time prejudice denied to the Italians _all talent for music_,
as it has ever since exaggerated their claims in this respect.
_Kiesewetter_ remarks, in his History of Music, that, although the
Netherlands in Italy no longer had the monopoly, they nevertheless
always maintained the supremacy in music. Climate and language were,
however, so favorable to vocal music in Italy that it soon found there
its peculiar home, and though theoretical knowledge of music was
advanced by the earlier singers, now richness and power of voice were
also attained. As it had previously been with the Netherlanders, so it
now became with the Italians. They were drawn to all countries in
which there was any love of art; and they soon won that supremacy in
music which they maintained until the last century. Until the latter
part of the sixteenth century, good musicians were devoted almost
exclusively to church music, and held it beneath their dignity to take
part in music of any other kind. All but church music they left to the
minstrels and strolling singers, who traveled over the country from
place to place, and in different lands were styled _minstrels_,
_minnesänger_ and _trovatori_. They mostly sung love-songs, which they
often extemporized in word and tune, finding place and popularity on
all festive occasions. But under the impulse which music began to
feel, the desire among the educated class to revive the old Greek
drama, which just at that period had come to be well known, became
more and more urgent. Imbued with the spirit of that age, the whole
tendency of which was to exalt the ancient classic poets, a circle of
men of science and culture from the higher classes gave themselves to
the task of producing a style of music such as the Greeks must have
had in the representation of their dramas. In the mansion of Count
_Bardi_, in Florence, then the centre of union for all who had any
claims to cultivation, music was first arranged for a _single_ voice
by a dilettante, the father of the renowned Galileo.

This attempt met with applause and imitation among the most
distinguished singers of the time, who thenceforth turned
their attention also to secular music. It thus came about
that, towards the end of the sixteenth century, on festal
occasions in Italy, and even earlier in France, theatrical
representations were given with vocal music. This music was,
however, always composed in the form of the chorus, and the
leading voice alone was represented by a singer; the other
voices were represented by instruments.

Such was the beginning of solo singing, which, growing ever
more in public favor, soon came to be introduced into the most
solemn church music; dramatic representations, religious and
secular, grew very popular, and were the forerunners of the
opera and oratorio, the richest inventions of the sixteenth
century.

Up to this time, a singer of sound musical culture sufficed for
chorus singing, but by the introduction of solo singing a more
complete education of the organ of singing became a necessity.
Indeed, as early as the middle of the fifteenth century there
existed in Rome and Milan schools of music and professorships for
the education of singers; but with the introduction and diffusion
of solo singing similar conservatories were established in nearly
all the more considerable cities of Italy, and all the energies
of the musician were devoted to the highest possible culture of
the voice.

But, with solo singing, greater attention was paid to instruments,
which were already in those days constructed with the greatest
care and skill. With the higher cultivation of single voices,
chorus singing also became richer in harmony and embellishment,
but as, in vocal music, words accompany the music, the expression
of the music becomes more definite and intelligible for the
hearer, and thus with the higher cultivation of vocal music,
and by means of it, even our whole modern system of harmony
has been developed.

Women were, by ecclesiastical law, excluded from participation
in church music, and as the voices of boys could be used only
for a few years, they did not suffice to meet the ever-increasing
demands of church music. At first it was attempted to supply
the place of the sopranists and contraltists with so-called
falsettists. As, however, these substitutes proved insufficient,
the soprano and contralto of boys were sought to be preserved in
men. And so, in 1625, appeared the first male sopranist in the
Papal chapel in Rome. Such sopranists and contraltists soon
appeared in great numbers, and as their organs of singing
continued soft and tender as those of women, and their compass
was the same, to them the education of female voices was given
over exclusively. Thenceforth women became the richest ornament
of the opera, then blooming into beauty. But only when the
ecclesiastical law forbidding women to take part in church music
was annulled, did women begin, in the middle of the last century,
to take the place of those male sopranists and contraltists.

It thus became unnecessary to secure longer duration to the
voices of boys, especially as these were never able to attain
to the peculiar grace of the female voice, and so this class
of singers gradually died out. But still in the first half of
the present century there were many of them living and sought
for as teachers of singing. _To the disappearance of this
kind of singers, Rossini thinks the decline of vocal art is
to be mainly ascribed._

The art of singing rose in the course of the seventeenth century to
an extraordinary height of cultivation, and was diffused more and
more by means of the opera, then blooming, as we have said, into
beauty. But in that brilliant springtime of vocal art, it was not
mere externals, such as beauty of tone, flexibility, etc., that were
striven for, but, above all, the correct expression of the feeling
intended in the composition. This rendered necessary to the singer
the most thorough æsthetic culture, going hand in hand with the
culture of the vocal organ. For only thus could he succeed in acting
upon the souls of his hearers, in moving them and carrying them along
with him in the emotions which the music awakened in his own mind.
The dramatic singer was now strongly tempted to neglect the externals
of his art for the æsthetic, purely inward conception of the music.
Certain, at least, it is that to the neglect of the training of the
voice (_Tonbildung_), and to the style of writing of our modern
composers--a style unsuited to the art of singing, and looking only
to its spiritual element--the decline of this art is in part to be
traced. _Mannstein_ says that, with the disappearance of those great
masters, power and beauty of tone have fallen more and more into
contempt, and at the present day it is scarcely known what is meant
by them. True it is, that a beautiful tone of voice (_Gesangston_),
which must be considered the foundation and first requisition of fine
singing, is more and more rare among our singers, male and female,
and yet it is just as important in music as perfect form in the
creations of the sculptor.

But the complete technical education of the earlier singers
misled many of them into various unnatural artifices, in order
to obtain notice and distinction. The applause of the public
caused such trickeries to become the fashion among artists. The
multitude, accustomed to such effects, began to mistake them
for art. By the gradual disappearance of the male sopranists,
instruction in singing fell into the hands of tenor singers,
who usually cultivated the female voice in accordance with
their own voices, which could not be otherwise than injurious
in the uncertainty existing as to the limits in compass and the
difference between the male and female organs of voice.

Thus it has come to pass that people are now apt to imagine that
they know all that is to be known; and as teaching in singing is
generally best paid, the office has been undertaken, without the
slightest apparent self-distrust, by many persons who have not the
slightest idea what thorough acquaintance with the organs of
singing, what comprehensive knowledge of all the departments of
music and what æsthetic and general culture, the teacher of singing
requires. Very few persons indeed clearly understand what is meant
by the education of a voice, and what high qualifications both
teacher and pupil always require. The idea, for instance, is very
prevalent that every musician, whatever may be the branch of music
to which he is devoted, and especially every singer, is qualified to
give instruction in singing. And therefore a dilettanteism without
precedent has taken the place of all real artistic endeavors. Be
this, however, as it may, such is the wide diffusion and popularity
of music beyond all the other arts, that the want of singers
artistically educated, and consequently also of a recognized sound
method of instruction, becomes more and more urgent; and although we
have in these times distinguished singers, male and female, as well
as skilful teachers, yet the number is very small and by no means
equal to the demand.

But now, as every evil, as soon as it is felt to be such, calls
forth the means of its removal, already in various ways attempts
are making in the department of the Art of Singing to restore it as
perfectly as possible to its former high position, and if possible
to elevate it to a yet higher state. It was natural that the attempt
should, first of all, be made to revive the old Italian method of
instruction, and that, by strict adherence in everything to what has
come down to us by tradition, we should hope for deliverance and
salvation; for to the Italians mainly vocal music was indebted for
its chief glory. Without considering in what a sadly superficial way
music--and vocal music especially--is now treated in Italy, many
have given in to the erroneous idea that any Italian who can sing
anything must know how to educate a voice. Thus many incompetent
Italians have become popular teachers in other countries.

The old Italian method of instruction, to which vocal music
owed its high condition, was purely _empirical_, i.e., the
old singing masters taught only according to a sound and just
feeling for the beautiful, guided by that faculty of acute
observation, which enabled them to distinguish what belongs to
nature. Their pupils learned by imitation, as children learn
their mother tongue, without troubling themselves about rules.
But after the true and natural way has once been forsaken, and
for so long a period only the false and the unnatural has been
heard and taught, it seems almost impossible by empiricism
alone to restore the old and proper method of teaching. With
our higher degree of culture, men and things have greatly
changed. Our feeling is no longer sufficiently simple and
natural to distinguish the true without the help of scientific
principles.

But science has already done much to assist the formation of musical
forms of art. Mathematics and physics have established the principal
laws of sound and the processes of sound, in accordance with which
our musical instruments are now constructed. Philosophical inquirers
have succeeded also in discovering the eternal and impregnable laws
of Nature upon which the mutual influences of melody, harmony and
rhythm depend, and in thus giving to composition fixed forms and
laws which no one ventures to question. And more recently Professor
Helmholtz, in his great work, “Die Lehre von den Tonempfindungen,”
has given to music of all kinds a scientific ground and basis.
But for the culture of the human voice in singing science has as
yet furnished only a few lights. The well-known experiments of
_Johannes Müller_ upon the larynx gave us all that was known,
until very recently, respecting the functions of the organ of
singing. Many singing masters have sought to found their methods
of instruction upon these observations on the larynx, at the same
time putting forth the boldest conjectures in regard to the functions
of the organ of singing in the living subject. But they have thus
ruined more fine voices than those teachers who, without reference
to the formation of the voice, only correct the musical faults of
their pupils, and for the rest let them sing as they please.

This superficial treatment of science, and the unfortunate results
of its application, have injured the art of singing more than
benefited it, and created a prejudice against all scientific
investigations in this direction among the most distinguished
artists and teachers, as well as among those who take an intelligent
interest in this department of music. It is a pretty common opinion
that science can do little for the improvement of music, and nothing
for the culture and preservation of the voice in singing. And the
habit of regarding science and art as opposed to each other renders
it extremely difficult to secure a hearing for the results of
thorough scientific inquiry in this direction.

Science itself admits that it can neither create artistic
talent, nor supply the place of it, but only furnish it with
aids. Besides, with the whole inner nature of music, no forms
of thought (_reflection_) have anything to do. It has “a
reason above reason.” This art transmits to us in sound the
expression of emotions as they rise in the human soul and
connect themselves one with another. It is the revelation of
our inmost life in its tenderest and finest processes, and is
therefore the most ideal of the arts. It appeals directly to
our consciousness. As a sense of the divine dwells in every
nation, in every human being, and is impelled to form for
itself a religious cultus, so we find among all nations the
need of music dwelling as deeply in human nature. The most
uncivilized tribes celebrate their festivals with songs as
the expression of their devotion or joy, and the cultivated
nations of ancient times, like the Greeks, cherished music as
the ethereal vehicle of their poetry, and regarded it as the
chief aid in the culture of the soul.

But together with its purely internal character, music has yet
another and formal side, for if our art consisted only in the
æsthetic feeling, and in representing this feeling, every person
of culture, possessing the right feeling, would be able to sing,
just as he understands how to read intelligibly.

Everything spiritual, everything ideal, as soon as it is to
be made present to the perceptions of others, requires a form
which, in its material as well as in its structure, may be
more or less perfect, but it can never otherwise than submit
to those eternal laws to which all that lives, all that comes
within the sphere of our perceptions, is subject. To discover
and establish the natural laws which lie at the basis of all
our forms of art is the office of science; to fashion and
control these forms and animate them with a soul is the task
of art. In singing, the art consists in tones beautiful and
sonorous, and fitted for the expression of every variation of
feeling. To set forth the natural laws by which these tones
are produced is the business of physiology and physics.

Thus is there not only an _æsthetical_ side to the art of singing,
but a _physiological_ and a _physical_ side also, without an exact
knowledge, appreciation, observance, and study of which, what is
hurtful cannot be discerned and avoided; and no true culture of
art, and consequently no progress in singing, is possible.

In the _physiological_ view of vocal art, we have to do with
the quality and strength of the organ of singing in the act
of uttering sound, and under the variations of sound that
take place in certain tones (the register being transcended).

By the _physical_ side is to be understood the correct use and
skilful management of the air flowing from the lungs through
the windpipe, and brought into vibration by the vocal chords
in the larynx.

But the _æsthetics_ of vocal art, and the spiritual inspiration
of the form (of the sound), comprise the whole domain of music
and poetic beauty.

  [1] Those who are interested in the history of music are
      referred to the historical works already mentioned for
      a fuller account of what is only alluded to above.




II

PHYSIOLOGICAL VIEW

FORMATION OF SOUND BY THE ORGAN OF THE HUMAN VOICE


The great physiologist, Johannes Müller, fastened a larynx, which he
had cut out with the whole trachea belonging to it, to a board, and,
stretching the vocal chords by a weight that could be increased or
diminished at pleasure, caused vibrations in it by blowing through
the trachea with a pair of bellows, or through a tube with his own
breath. In this way he succeeded in producing almost all the tones
of the human voice, and even some which are beyond the compass of
this organ.

He distinguished two different kinds of tones, to which he gave
the names of the chest register and the falsetto register. The
chest tones were produced when the vocal ligaments, slackly
stretched, were made to vibrate easily in their whole breadth;
the falsetto tones came merely through the vibration of the fine
inner edges of the vocal chords when they were more tightly
stretched. At a moderate stretching of the vocal chords, it
depended upon the manner of blowing whether a sound corresponding
to the chest voice or to the falsetto were produced, or whether
it were higher or lower for several tones, often for a whole
octave. A series of tones of more than two octaves could thus be
produced in the same larynx, with, however, gaps and places at
which the vocal chords, instead of being stretched gradually,
have to be _stretched at once very strongly, in order that the
succeeding higher half tone may be reached_. Such a place Müller
indicates from c² to c♯², or d² to d♯², with the remark that it
differs in different larynxes, being in some higher and in some
lower. But in order to render practicable the proper stretching
of the exsected larynx, muscles and membranes have to be cut,
which sufficiently proves that the functions of the organ of
singing in the living must be differently carried on.

_Dr. Merkel_, in Leipzig, has continued these experiments, and
by means of a peculiar contrivance has succeeded in producing
all the tones in the exsected larynx, without mutilating it.
But these investigations, interesting as they are, throw no
certain light upon the formation of sound by the vocal organ
in the living.

The celebrated singing master, _Manuel Garcia_, now living in
London, was the first to adopt the right mode of scientific
inquiry in this department, with favorable results. He undertook
to apply the laryngoscope (previously invented by the Englishman,
_Liston_) to the larynx in the act of singing. The interesting
results of these observations were published by him in the
Philosophical Mag. and Journal of Science, vol. x. p. 218. While
men of science immediately repeated Garcia's experiments and
applied them with the greatest advantage to pathological purposes,
they were received with distrust, scarcely noticed, and in many
instances entirely rejected, by teachers of vocal music. The few
who attempted to follow the path thus opened soon gave it up,
because they lacked either patience or the anatomical knowledge
necessary to such investigations.

The laryngoscope is well known among medical men. It is a small
plane mirror of glass or metal, having a long handle. Before it
is introduced into the throat, it is first warmed, to prevent
its becoming dimmed. The reflecting surface of this instrument
is directed downwards and forwards, so that it receives the
reflection caught from a concave mirror, and presents to the
eye of the observer a picture of the illuminated larynx. In
using it upon oneself, there is need of a second mirror, which
must be so held that the image may be seen in the laryngoscope.

The use of the laryngoscope requires in the observer a certain
adroitness and long-continued practice--almost more in the
observer than in the subject of observation. In self-observation
one must first learn to overcome the irritation always caused
at the first by the contact of the mirror with the back of the
throat. Once accustomed to the contact, one soon succeeds in
obtaining a sight of the larynx, sufficient for the most part
for pathological purposes. But it requires long practice before
one can control those organs, usually not immediately submissive
to the will, and raise the epiglottis, so as to be able to see
into the whole larynx. But this is absolutely indispensable, in
the observation of the formation of sound, to the attainment of
any substantial results. Garcia says himself that _one-third
of the glottis_ was always _hidden_ from him by the epiglottis,
and to this circumstance is the unsatisfactory character of his
observations to be ascribed. But even when, after long practice,
one is able at last to bring the whole glottis into view, this
is not by any means enough. Not until observation has been so
long continued that all the movements of the vocal organ are
normal, notwithstanding the unnatural drawing back of the
epiglottis, and not until the process that goes on is found
again and again to be always the same, can it be recognized
as fact.

As Garcia is the most eminent of singing masters now living,
and as he has sought, solely in the interest of vocal music,
to ascertain the mechanism by which sound is formed, and as
his observations have been confirmed by men of science, I
give them here in his own words.

In order that what follows may be better understood by those
unacquainted with anatomy, a brief anatomical description of
the vocal organ will be found in an Appendix to the present
work.


OBSERVATIONS WITH THE LARYNGOSCOPE

BY MANUEL GARCIA

“At the moment when the person draws a deep breath, the
epiglottis being raised, we are able to see the following
series of movements: the arytenoid cartilages become separated
by a very free lateral movement; the superior ligaments are
placed against the ventricles; the inferior ligaments are also
drawn back, though in a less degree, into the same cavities;
and the glottis, large and wide open, is exhibited, so as to
show in part the rings of the trachea. But, unfortunately,
however dexterous we may be in disposing these organs, and even
when we are most successful, at least _the third part of the
anterior of the glottis remains concealed by the epiglottis_.

“As soon as we prepare to produce a sound, the arytenoid
cartilages approach each other, and press together by their
interior surfaces, and by their anterior apophyses, without
leaving any space, or inter-cartilaginous glottis; sometimes,
even, they come in contact so closely as to cross each other by
the tubercles of Santorini. To this movement of the anterior
apophyses that of the ligaments of the glottis corresponds,
which detach themselves from the ventricles, come in contact
with different degrees of energy, and show themselves at
the bottom of the larynx, under the form of an ellipse of
a yellowish color. The superior ligaments, together with the
aryteno-epiglottidean folds, assist to form the tube which
surmounts the glottis; and being the lower and free extremity
of that tube, enframe the ellipse, the surface of which they
enlarge or diminish according as they enter more or less into
the ventricles. These last scarcely retain a trace of their
opening. By anticipation, we might say of these cavities that,
as will afterwards appear clearly enough in these pages, they
only afford to the two pair of ligaments a space in which they
may easily range themselves. When the aryteno-epiglottidean
folds contract, they lower the epiglottis and make the superior
orifice of the larynx considerably narrower.

“The meeting of the lips of the glottis, naturally proceeding
from the front towards the back, if this movement is well
managed, will allow, between the apophyses, _of the formation
of a triangular space or inter-cartilaginous glottis_, but one
which, however, is closed as soon as the sounds are produced.

“After some essays we perceive that this internal disposition
of the larynx is only visible when the epiglottis remains
raised. But neither all the registers of the voice, nor all the
degrees of intensity, are equally fitted for its taking this
position. We soon discover that the brilliant and powerful
sounds of the chest register contract the cavity of the larynx,
and close still more its orifice; and, on the contrary, that
veiled notes, and notes of moderate power, open both, so as to
render any observation easy. The falsetto register especially
possesses this prerogative, as well as the first notes of the
head voice. So as to render these facts more precise, we will
study in the voice of the tenor the ascending progression of
the chest register, and in the soprano that of the falsetto and
head registers.


EMISSION OF THE CHEST VOICE

“If we emit veiled and feeble sounds, the larynx opens at the
notes do re me (c d e), and we see the glottis agitated by
large and loose vibrations throughout its entire extent. Its
lips comprehend in their length the anterior apophyses of the
arytenoid cartilages and the vocal chords; but, I repeat it,
there remains no triangular space.

“As the sounds ascend, the apophyses, which are slightly
rounded on their internal side, by a gradual apposition
commencing at the back encroach on the length of the glottis,
and as soon as we reach the sounds si do (b c¹) they finish
by touching each other throughout their whole extent; but
their summits are only solidly fixed one against the other
at the notes do re (c♯¹ d¹). In some organs these summits are
a little vacillating when they form the posterior end of the
glottis, and two or three half-tones which are formed show
a certain want of purity and strength, which is very well
known to singers. From do re (c♯¹ d¹) the vibrations, having
become rounder and purer, are accomplished by _the vocal
ligaments alone_, up to the end of the register.

“The glottis at this moment presents the aspect of a line
slightly swelled towards its middle, the length of which
diminishes still more as the voice ascends. We also see that
the cavity of the larynx has become very small, and that the
superior ligaments have contracted the extent of the ellipse
to less than one-half.

“Thus the organs act with a double difference: 1. The cavity of
the larynx contracts itself more when the voice is intense than
when it is feeble. 2. The superior ligaments are contracted, so
as to reduce the small diameter of the ellipse to a width of two
or three lines. But however powerful these contractions may be,
neither the cartilages of Wrisberg, nor the superior ligaments
themselves, ever close sufficiently to prevent the passage of
the air, or even to render it difficult. This fact, which is
verified also with regard to the falsetto and head registers,
suffices to prove that the superior ligaments do not fill a
generative part in the formation of the voice. We may draw the
same conclusion by considering the position occupied by the
somewhat feeble muscles which correspond to these ligaments;
they cover externally the extremity of the diverging fibres of
the thyro-arytenoid muscles, and take part especially in the
contractions of the cavity of the larynx during the formation
of the high notes of the chest and head registers.


PRODUCTION OF THE FALSETTO

“The low notes of the falsetto show the glottis infinitely
better than the unisons of the chest voice, and produce
vibrations more extended and more distinct. Its vibrating
sides, formed by the anterior apophyses of the arytenoid
cartilages and by the ligaments, become gradually shorter as
the voice ascends; at the notes la si (a¹ b¹) the apophyses
take part only at their summits; and in these notes there
results a weakness similar to that which we have remarked in
the chest notes an octave below. At the notes do re (c♯² d²),
the ligaments alone continue to act; then begins the series of
notes called the _head voice_. The moment in which the action
of the apophyses ceases exhibits in the female voice a very
sensible difference to the ear and in the organ itself. Lastly,
we verify that up to the highest sounds of the register the
glottis continues to diminish in length and in width.

“If we compare the two registers in these movements, we shall
find some analogies in them; the sides of the glottis formed
at first by the apophyses and the ligaments become shorter
by degrees, and end by consisting only of the ligaments. The
chest register is divided into two parts, corresponding to
these two states of the glottis. The register of falsetto-head
presents a complete similarity, and in a still more striking
manner.

“On other points, on the contrary, these same registers are
very unlike. The length of the glottis necessary to form
a falsetto note always exceeds that which produces the unison
of the chest. The movements which agitate the sides of the
glottis are also augmented, and keep the vibrating orifice
continually half opened, which naturally produces a great
waste of air. A last trait of difference is in the increased
extent of that elliptic surface.

“All these circumstances show in the mechanism of the falsetto
a state of relaxation which we do not find in the same degree
in the chest register.


MANNER IN WHICH THE SOUNDS ARE FORMED

“As we have just seen--and what we have seen proves it--the
inferior ligaments at the bottom of the larynx form exclusively
the voice, whatever may be its register or its intensity; for
they alone vibrate at the bottom of the larynx.... By the
compressions and expansions of the air, or the successive
and regular explosions which it produces in passing through
the glottis, sound is produced.” (The London, Edinburgh and
Dublin Phil. Mag. and Journal of Science, vol. x. 4th Series,
pp. 218-221, 1855.)

       *       *       *       *       *

Garcia proceeds, in the same paper, to give an elaborate account
of his theory of the compression, expansion and explosion of
the air in expiration, together with his conjectures as to the
action of the muscles of the larynx in relation to the different
registers. I omit both here, for, since this publication of
Garcia's, the movements of the breath generating sound in
expiration have been thoroughly investigated and determined by
Prof. Helmholtz; and in the physical section of the present work
all may be found that is of value in the culture of the singing
voice. Whatever can be definitely communicated in regard to the
working of the muscles of the larynx may likewise be found in
any anatomical work. An acquaintance, however, with the action
of these muscles is not directly necessary to our purpose, and
is of interest only to the physiologist.

It is not to be denied that Garcia's observations do not, by
any means, lead to satisfactory conclusions as to the functions
of the vocal organ. He has, as we shall see in the sequel,
attached special importance to much that is unessential and
abnormal, and the main facts, the elucidation of which is
particularly needed, he has scarcely mentioned. Thus he tells
us nothing of that series of tones which he calls the head
register. The transition also of the registers he has not
carefully examined and observed in different voices: the chest
register in the male and the falsetto of the female voice.

Nevertheless, these investigations possess much that is valuable,
and are of special value to the art of singing, because they teach
a method hitherto unknown of observing the larynx, by which sure
and satisfactory results are reached. And when an acquaintance
with these results comes to be universally diffused, and the art
of singing is thereby led into the right direction, we shall owe
it most especially to the excellent experimental observations of
Garcia.

Garcia has accepted the division made by Müller, and universally
adopted in science, of the chest, falsetto and head registers.
I employ the same distinctions--a fact which it seems worth
while to mention, simply because every teacher and school have
their own terminology, and instead of falsetto we have _fistel_,
_throat_, and _middle_ or _neck_ voice, &c. These denominations
of the same registers have thus far only increased the obscurity
prevailing in the art of singing.


MY OWN OBSERVATIONS WITH THE LARYNGOSCOPE

In giving an account of my own observations with the laryngoscope,
I premise that laryngoscopy has of late attracted much attention
among the learned, and that _Czermak_, _Turk_, _Merkel_, _Lewin_,
_Bataille_, &c., have published a series of valuable observations,
all of which, however, with the exception of Bataille's, were made
in the interest of science, for pathological purposes especially.
My aim, in the employment of the laryngoscope, has been directed
exclusively to the discovery of the natural limits of the different
registers of the human voice; and although I have thus been able
to observe many other interesting processes, it would not at all
accord with the design of this book to communicate observations
which have no direct relation to the culture of the voice in
singing, and which come better from men of science than from
a teacher of vocal music.

In using the laryngoscope while the breath is quietly drawn,
I saw, as Garcia did, the whole larynx wide open, so that one
could easily introduce a finger into it, and the rings of the
trachea were plainly visible.

  [Illustration of the above.]

  a. Arytenoid cartilages.
  b. Epiglottis.
  c. Trachea.[2]
  d. Vocal chords.

When those who had become accustomed to the introduction of
the instrument sang, at my request, _a_, as pronounced in the
English word _man_, in a deep tone, the epiglottis rose, the
tongue formed a cavity from within forwards, and thus rendered
it easy to see into the larynx. So soon as the _a_, as in
_father_, was sung, the cover quickly fell, the tongue rose,
and prevented all observation of the organ of singing. The
other vowels are still less favorable to observation, because
they do not admit of any such wide opening of the mouth.
Strong tones also are unfavorable to observation, as Garcia
also remarked; and this is very natural, because strong and
sonorous tones require greater exertions of the singing organ,
and, above all things, the right position of those parts of
the larynx and mouth which serve as a resonance apparatus in
the formation of sound. In order to be able to see perfectly
the whole glottis, all this resonance apparatus must be drawn
back as far as possible, and the rim of the larynx must be
tolerably flat. Thus only faint and weak sounds are favorable
to observation.


THE CHEST REGISTER

When the vowel _a_, as in _man_, was sung, I could, after
long-continued practice, plainly see how the arytenoid cartilages
quickly rose with their summits in their mucous membranous case
and approached to mutual contact. In like manner, the _chordæ
vocales_, or inferior vocal chords, approached each other so
closely that scarcely any space between them was observable.
The superior or false vocal ligaments formed the ellipse
described by Garcia in the upper part of the glottis.

  [Representation in the mirror of the vocal organ
  in giving out sound.]

  a. Superior or false vocal ligaments, or chords.
  b. Epiglottis.
  c. Inferior or true vocal ligaments.
  d. Arytenoid cartilages.
  e. Capitula Santorini.

When, in using the laryngoscope upon myself, I slowly sang the
ascending scale, this movement of the vocal chords and arytenoid
cartilages was repeated at every tone. They separated and appeared
to retreat, in order to close again anew, and to rise somewhat
more than before. This movement of the arytenoid cartilages may
best be compared to that of a pair of scissors. With every higher
tone the vocal ligaments seemed more stretched and the glottis
somewhat shorter.--[The glottis is a term applied to the space
occupied by the vocal chords (the lips of the glottis): when
separated, we say the glottis is open, when they touch, that
it is closed.]--At the same time, when I sang the scale upward,
beginning with the lowest tones, the vocal ligaments seemed to be
moved in their whole length and breadth by large, loose vibrations,
which extended even to all the rest of the interior of the larynx.

The place at which the arytenoid cartilages, almost closed
together, cease their action and leave the formation of the
sound to the vocal ligaments alone, I found in the entire
vibration of the glottis, or in the chest register of the
female voice, at do do♯ (c¹ c♯¹), more rarely at si (b). In the
chest register of the male voice this change occurs at la si♭
(a b♭). With some effort the above-mentioned action of the
arytenoid cartilages may be continued several tones higher. But
such tones, especially in the female voice, have that rough and
common timbre which we are too often compelled to hear in our
female singers. The glottis also, in this case, as well as the
parts of the larynx near the glottis, betrays the effort very
plainly; as the tones ascend, they grow more and more red.
_Thus, as at this place in the chest register there occurs
a visible and sensible straining of the organs, so also is it
in all the remaining transitions, as soon as the attempt is
made to extend the action by which the lower tones are formed
beyond the given limits of the same._ These transitions, which
cannot be extended without effort, coincide perfectly with the
places where _J. Müller_ had to _stretch_ the ligaments of his
exsected larynx so powerfully in order to reach the succeeding
half-tone. Garcia likewise finds tones thus formed disagreeable
and imperfect in sound (_klanglos_).

Usually, therefore, at the note do♯ (c♯¹) in the female voice,
and la si♭ (a b♭) in the male voice, the vocal ligaments alone
act in forming the sound, and throughout the register are
moved by large, loose, full vibrations (_Totalschwingungen_).
But the instant the vocal ligaments are deprived of the
assistance of the arytenoid cartilages, they relax and appear
longer than at the last tone produced by that aid. But with
every higher tone they appear again to be stretched shorter
and more powerfully up to fa fa♯ (f¹ f♯¹), the natural
transition of both the chest and falsetto registers, as well
in the _male_ as in the _female_. The larynx is perceptibly
lower in all the tones of the chest register than in quiet
breathing.


THE FALSETTO REGISTER

All the tones of the falsetto register are produced by vibrations
only of the fine, inner, slender edges of the vocal ligaments.
In this action the vocal ligaments are not so near together,
but allow of a fine linear space between them, and the superior
ligaments are pressed farther back than in the production of
the tones of the chest register. The rest of the action of the
glottis is, however, entirely the same. With the beginning of
the falsetto register at fa♯ (f♯¹), the whole glottis appears
again longer, and the vocal ligaments are much looser than in the
highest tones of the chest register. The united action, already
described, of the arytenoid cartilages and the ligaments in
forming the deeper tones of the chest register, extends to do do♯
(c² c♯²) in the female voice, and in the male voice to mi♭ mi
(e♭² e²) commonly written thus: mi♭ mi (e♭³ e³) but which only
rarely occurs in composition, and then is sung by tenorists as
I have given it; that is, one octave lower.

With the do♯ (c♯²) in the female voice and the mi♭ mi (e♭² e²)
in the male voice, the arytenoid cartilages cease again to
act, and as before, at the second higher series of tones of
the chest register, leave the formation of the sounds to the
vocal ligaments alone, which at this change appear again
longer and looser, but with every higher tone tighten up to
fa fa♯ (f² f♯²) in the female voice, and in the male voice to
sol (g²), or as it is commonly written: g³. In the falsetto
register the larynx preserves its natural position, as in
quiet breathing.


THE HEAD REGISTER

When in the observation of the falsetto register I had sung upwards
to its highest tones, and then sang still higher, I became aware
with the fa♯ (f♯²) of a change in the motions of the organ of
singing, and the tones thus produced had a different timbre from
the falsetto tones. It required long and patient practice before
I finally succeeded in drawing back the epiglottis so that I could
see the glottis in its whole length. Not until then was I able to
observe the following:

With the fa♯ (f♯²), the vocal ligaments suddenly closed firmly
together to their middle, with their fine edges one over the
other.

  [Representation in the mirror of the organ of singing
  in the formation of head tones.]

  a. The closing together of the vocal ligaments.
  b. Open part of the glottis.

  The oval opening of the anterior portion of the glottis is
  imperfectly shown, because it is hidden from view by the
  epiglottis at the extreme end.

This closing appeared as a fine red line extending from the
arytenoid cartilages at the back forward to the middle of the
vocal ligaments, and leaving free only a third part of the
whole glottis, immediately under the epiglottis, to the front
wall of the larynx.

The foremost part of the glottis formed an oval orifice,
which, with each higher tone, seemed to contract more and
more, and so became smaller and rounder. The fine edges of
the vocal ligaments which formed this orifice were alone
vibrating, and the vibrations seemed at first looser, but,
with every higher tone, the ligaments were more stretched.
The larynx remained in its natural state.

Only after I had frequently repeated this observation of the
head tones in myself and in others, and had always arrived at
the same results, did I venture to publish it. The most various
conjectures respecting the formation of the head voice had been
previously proposed by the learned, and the existence, even, of
the head voice had been denied by _Bataille_. It would lead us
too far away to make mention here of all these different views,
which, with the exception of those of _Dr. Merkel of Leipzig_,
showed themselves to be really without a sound foundation.

It was objected to the results of my observations, that such an
action of the glottis “was only possible by means of cartilages
and muscles, but that such cartilages and muscles as could render
an action of that kind possible were not known, nor was there any
reference to them to be found in any manual of anatomy.” While
I fully admitted the soundness of this objection, I was, after
repeated observations, more and more convinced of the correctness
of my own statements. But as I found nothing to support them in
any anatomical work, either German or French, I began anew to
study the anatomy of the larynx in dissected subjects.

My renewed efforts were rewarded by the discovery, within the
membranes of the vocal ligaments, of those filaments or fibres
of muscle which in the anatomical Appendix to this book I
mention as _arytenoid-thyroid interna_, and which have also
been found by other observers. They are found in all larynxes,
and consist of muscular fibres, sometimes finer, sometimes
thicker.[3]

At the same time I satisfied myself of the existence of a
pair of cartilages--the cuneiform cartilages described in the
Appendix. I found these always in the female larynx, but only
now and then in the male. As these cartilages, also found
within the membranes of the vocal ligaments and reaching from
their junction with the arytenoid cartilages to the middle of
the ligaments, are only now and then fully formed in the male
larynx, but undeniably work the shutting part of the glottis,
it follows plainly that only a few male voices are capable of
producing the head tones.

But observation with the microscope revealed in those larynxes
in which the cuneiform cartilages were wanting, parts of a
cartilaginous mass, or the rudiments of a cartilage, in the
place indicated.

For anatomical investigations the male larynx is commonly used,
its muscles being more powerful and its cartilages firmer than in
the female larynx, and this explains why anatomists in Germany
have been reluctant to admit the existence of the cuneiform
cartilages. It was, therefore, a great satisfaction to me to find
them described under the name of cuneiform cartilages in Wilson's
Human Anatomy, with the remark that they are sometimes wanting.[4]

The head register possesses a very great capacity of expansion,
which, without the slightest straining, may be gradually extended,
with some practice, a whole octave, and often even still farther
upwards. When the transition is made from the highest tones of the
falsetto register to the head register, there is experienced the
same sense of relief in the organs of singing as in passing from
the chest to the falsetto register. And this is very easy to be
understood, because the ligaments by this repeated partial closure
of the glottis are much less stretched than in the highest tones
of the preceding lower register. The difference in sound between
the highest tones of the falsetto and head registers is often
slight, on which account these two registers, so different in
their mechanism, are easily confounded. Only in entirely healthy
vocal organs can the head tones be observed. A too great secretion
of mucus, or any inflammation of the mucous membrane, embarrasses
the formation of head and falsetto tones, while the vibrations of
the fine edges of the vocal ligaments are thereby obstructed. The
character of the vocal organ fully explains why in the case of
sick or of worn-out voices it is always the high tones that are
first lost. When I have observed, in the sick, irritation of the
mucous membrane, I have often found the oval orifice which is
formed in the production of the head tones entirely covered with
mucus. In my own case, when by repeated effort this bubble of
mucus broke, instead of the a², which I meant to be sounded,
there came the a³, an octave higher, which in perfect health
it was never possible for me to reach. I have observed the
same phenomenon sometimes in my pupils.

When one sings the scale, note by note downwards, one can
sing with the action of the higher register many of the tones
of the lower, without any observable straining of the organ;
indeed, there is a perceptible feeling of relief; only these
tones are not so full as when sung in their natural register.


ABNORMAL MOVEMENTS OF THE GLOTTIS

_Garcia_ states, in his observations, that sometimes when the
rims of the vocal ligaments have come together, there remains
between the arytenoid cartilages a triangular space, which
does not close until the tone is produced. _Czermak_ likewise
describes this process in his pathological investigations,
and also a similar one with the laryngoscope. While, namely,
the arytenoid cartilages seem to be wholly closed, one sees
just before the beginning of the tone the vocal ligaments
standing apart in a square-shaped form, and only closing
together with the tone. At first, before I had attained to
much practice in observation, I often saw these processes
in myself, and later often in others.

That these accidental forms of the glottis bear no relation to
the generation of sounds, as _Funke_ truly says, is made evident
by an irregularity in the combined action of the muscles of the
larynx, by which the coming together of the arytenoid cartilages
takes place later than that of the ligaments, or that of the
ligaments later than that of the arytenoid cartilages.

As recently great importance has often been ascribed to these
abnormal movements of the glottis in the generation of sound,
I have felt bound to mention them.


RESULTS OF THE FOREGOING OBSERVATIONS

In consequence of the observations above described, the
following facts may be established:

I. We have found five different actions of the vocal organ:

1. _The first series of tones of the chest register_, in
which the whole glottis is moved by large, loose vibrations,
and the arytenoid cartilages with the vocal ligaments are in
action.

2. _The second series of the chest register_, when the vocal
ligaments alone act, and are likewise moved by large, loose
vibrations.

3. _The first series of the falsetto register_, where again
the whole glottis, consisting of the arytenoid cartilages and
vocal ligaments, is in action, the very fine interior edges
of the ligaments, however, being alone in vibrating motion.

4. _The second series of the falsetto register_, the tones
of which are generated by the vibrations of the edges alone
of the vocal ligaments.

5. _The head register_, in the same manner and by the same
vibrations, and with a partial closing of the vocal ligaments.

II. We have learned the transitions of the registers, i.e.,
those tones where a different action of the vocal organ takes
place; and observation has further taught us that these
_natural limits of the registers cannot be exceeded without
a straining that may be both seen and felt_; that is, that we
may not preserve the action of a lower series for the tones
of a higher. On the other hand, the vocal organs show _no
straining_ when the action of a higher series of tones is
kept for a lower, only the fulness of the tones is thereby
diminished.

III. We have further seen that _only the transition from the
chest register to the falsetto is in all voices at the same
tones_, the fa fa♯ (f¹ f♯¹); but, both in men's and women's
voices, the other _transitions of the registers are different_.
As the male larynx is about a third larger than the female, it
is plain that the registers in the male voice have a greater
expansion. The transitions, however, in the tenor, as in the
bass, are at the same tones, and only sometimes a half tone
higher or lower in one voice than in another. The organs of the
man are stronger and harder than those of the woman, and they
are not often capable of producing tones with the vibrations of
the edges of the vocal ligaments (falsetto tones), but the lower
series of tones of the chest register has, in such voices, a much
greater extension downwards. _The difference between the bass and
tenor voices lies in the greater or less ease with which the
tones of the higher or lower registers are sung, and in the
greater fulness and beauty, always connected therewith, of the
higher or lower register, that is, in the timbre of the voice_;
not, as is commonly thought, in the difference of the transitions
of the registers.

The same is also the case with the female voice; _as well in
the contralto as in the soprano voice the transitions of the
registers are at the same tones_, and the difference of the
voices lies only in the timbre, and in the greater facility
with which the higher or lower tones are produced, and not
in the different compass of the voice.

The transitions of the registers are:


  IN THE MALE VOICE

  BASS VOICE

  First series of the chest register:

  C D E F G A B c d e f g a

  Second series:

                            b c¹ d¹ e¹ f¹

  TENOR VOICE

  First series of the chest register:

          G A B c d e f g a

  Second series:

                            b c¹ d¹ e¹ f¹

  First series of the falsetto:

                                          g¹ a¹, &c.


  IN THE FEMALE VOICE

  First series of the chest register:

  e f g a b c¹

  Second series of the chest register:

               d¹ e¹ f¹

  First series of the falsetto register:

                        g¹ a¹ b¹ c²

  Second series of the falsetto register:

                                    d² e² f²

  Head register:

                                             g² a² b² c³ d³ e³ f³

The investigation and discovery of the facts here stated have
been made with the utmost conscientiousness, repeated by men
of science in Germany, and acknowledged as correct.


PRACTICAL APPLICATION OF THESE OBSERVATIONS TO THE CULTIVATION
OF THE SINGING VOICE

In teaching the art of singing, it is now-a-days very generally
the custom to endeavor to raise the lower registers as far as
possible toward the higher. This is especially the case with
the tenor voice. It is considered a special advantage in a
tenor voice when it can sing the a¹ on the first leger line
(commonly written a²) with the chest register.

Upwards of a hundred and fifty years ago, when every good tenor
was required to sing a¹ with a clear, full chest tone, this note,
according to the orchestra pitch then, was not higher than a note
between f and f♯, according to the present orchestra pitch in
England and America. Since that time the orchestra pitch has
everywhere gradually risen so imperceptibly that this important
fact remained unknown to many singers and teachers, and until
recently has been only rarely noticed. And yet it is precisely
this much higher pitch and the consequent unnatural extension of
the limits of the registers, which is the chief cause why most
voices now-a-days last so little while.

That the registers may be forced up beyond their limits is
possible, we have seen. But observation teaches us that it cannot
be done without a straining of the organs which may be both seen
and felt, and no organ will bear continued over-straining. It
will gradually be weakened thereby, and become at last wholly
useless.

This is a simple fact, scientifically established, universally
known. It admits, therefore, of no doubt that the common
custom of forcing the registers beyond their natural bounds
injures voices, and seriously affects their durability. Even
when the organs are so strong that they can bear the unnatural
effort for a considerable length of time, they gain nothing in
grace and timbre. Like every thing else unnatural, it carries
with it its own punishment. Our tenor singers are, for the
most part, only for a few years in full possession of their
voices, while the earlier singers knew how to keep their
voices fine and full to their latest age.

Not until 1858, when the orchestra pitch in Paris had risen for
a¹ to 448 vibrations in a second, and tenors were no longer able
to reach it with the chest register, was general attention turned
to this evil. The Academy at that time fixed the orchestra pitch
at 435 vibrations a second for a¹. This pitch is now introduced
almost universally in Germany, and it is a full half note lower
than our usual orchestra pitch in America. The introduction of
the Paris pitch is, however, of no great advantage so long as
singers and teachers keep to the same limits of the registers
that they had at the beginning of the seventeenth century, when
a¹ had 404 vibrations in a second, and was about a third lower
than our present a¹. Musicians are averse to the introduction of
this old low pitch, as the instruments are no longer accommodated
to it. And besides, it is not at all necessary, if only singers
and teachers would observe it better, and either set their pieces
a third lower, or sing the notes that are difficult to be reached
with a lower register in a natural way and with a higher register.

The old Italian masters were proud of being able so to educate
the falsetto register of a tenor voice that it was difficult to
distinguish chest tones and falsetto tones from one another, even
for an ear accustomed to observe the finest distinctions of sound.
And this art is by no means so difficult as is supposed, and is
not dependent on the natural strength of the first falsetto tones.
When in the male organ there exists the power of bringing the
edges of the vocal ligaments into vibratory motion, and when these
tones at the beginning, compared with the chest tones of the same
voice, are weak and thin, then they may, with skill and perseverance,
be trained to quite similar fulness.

That the male voice requires far more time and practice than the
female to effect an imperceptible transition from the chest
register to the falsetto, is unquestionable. And while this
transition is always so very apparent in the man's voice, it is
often scarcely observable to a practiced ear even in uncultivated
female voices. Women, in speaking, always use the second chest and
the first falsetto register, continually passing from one to the
other of these registers without any change in the position of the
mouth or of the resonance apparatus of the voice. They are thus
all their lives long unconsciously practicing this transition,
and because of this equal physical use of the chest and falsetto
notes, the great physiological difference of these two registers
almost entirely disappears. Although men do not use the falsetto
register in speaking, it is not yet proved to be impossible for
the male voice to attain the same results as the female.

When in the beginning the falsetto tones are sung always
_piano_ and very _staccato_, by long-continued, careful
practice, with entirely the same physical treatment of both
registers, a smooth and natural transition from one to the
other is most easily obtained. Thus the falsetto tones gain
more and more in fulness and strength, and sound far more
agreeably than the forced-up chest tones of our tenorists,
sung with swollen-out throats and blood-red faces.

The education of men's voices involves many difficulties which
do not exist in the case of the voices of women. Almost all men
speak and sing in one register--tenors mostly in the second
chest register, bassos mostly in the first, and oftentimes
indeed not even in a correct natural manner. With this one
register they sing as high and as low as they can, and this
they consider the whole compass of their voices. The low chest
register is rarely found good and natural (as regards the
beauty of sound). In order for the production of these low
chest tones, to set the vocal chords vibrating in their whole
length and breadth, it is necessary that a fuller column of
air from the lungs should press upon the glottis through the
windpipe, which is readily of itself enlarged thereby. The
easier and the more naturally this takes place, the more
beautifully and naturally do these tones sound. Under the
delusion that only strong singing is beautiful, and that this
can be achieved only by extraordinary exertion, most of our
basso singers have a peculiar way of pressing out the windpipe,
which is not only very fatiguing, but gives to the low tones
a rough, disagreeable sound. Among public speakers also this
exhausting, faulty way of bringing out the chest tones is not
uncommon, frequently rendering their voices quite incapable of
use. _Merkel_ represents this way of forming the low tones as
a peculiar register, which he calls the _Strohbassregister_,
and through him a quite prevalent bad habit has found in other
scientific works a right to existence which by no means belongs
to it.

The female voice is treated in the same unnatural way. Many
teachers teach their pupils to sing with the lower series of
the chest register as high up as possible, often to the e¹ f¹,
as far as the organs permit, and then let them begin the
falsetto register. In this way the second series of the chest
register is entirely omitted; but the made tones, as the
expression is, thus obtained, sound very disagreeable and
coarse, and the falsetto tones, which in this way begin lower
than necessary, are on the contrary faint and weak. Of the
falsetto register these teachers commonly require only the
first series, up to d² e♭², to be sung, and then directly
begin the head tones. Thus the second series of the falsetto
is not used; but the tones belonging to it, which are sung
with the first series of the falsetto register, are for the
most part hard and sharp and seldom pure, while the tones of
the head voice, coming in too soon, are thin and unmusical,
and the whole voice thus receives an irregular formation. Many
teachers, again, allow the lower tones of the chest register
to be sung with the higher series of the same, whereby these
tones are naturally never as sweet and strong. Then, too,
they press the first series of the falsetto up to d² e♭², and
thence, as far as it is possible, the voice is to ascend with
the second series of the falsetto, without admitting the head
tones, even in voices with the high soprano timbre. But the
tones thus forced up are for the most part sharp and destitute
of all grace. And it is just this that is one of the commonest
faults of our present mode of singing.

As it has been customary to cultivate, in the male voice only,
the three lower series, because both of the highest sound sweet
and graceful only from the soft, delicate organs of the female
voice, and as the male voice is rarely capable of compassing
the highest series, the erroneous idea has gradually obtained
prevalence among teachers of singing, that there are only three
different series of tones, and that the female voice has only
two transitions.

In voices fresh and unvitiated the different series are very
easily distinguished by their different timbre. One hears
this difference of timbre most clearly in the transition of
the second series of the chest register into the falsetto in
the male voice, and in the female voice at the transition of
the first series of the falsetto register into the second.

As has been observed, the larynx stands lower with the tones of
the chest register than with the tones of the other registers,
or during quiet breathing.

In order, in the low chest tones, to bring the whole glottis
into full vibration, the air, as it is expired, must press
upon it with a larger volume. From all parts of the lungs
the air, when expired, presses into the windpipe, the rings
of which, widening as much as possible, come somewhat nearer
to each other and draw down the larynx.

One has thus the sensation as if the whole body took part
in this formation of sound, and as if the lower tones of the
chest register were drawn from the lowest part of the lungs.

In producing the second series of the chest register, the
sensation is as if the tones came from the upper part of the
chest, midway between the pit of the stomach and the larynx.

With regard to the tones of the first series of the falsetto,
the feeling is as if they had their origin in the throat.

In the tones of the second series of the falsetto, we feel as if
the throat had nothing to do with them--as if they were formed
above, in the mouth.

With the head tones, one has the feeling that they come from
the forehead.

It is these _physical sensations_ that have given occasion
to many erroneous conjectures in regard to the formation of
tones, but we are satisfied that they have no direct relation
to the generation of sound, and appear so only through the
nerves active in the process.

By directing the attention of one's pupils to these different
sensations, it is very easy to make them acquainted with the
different registers of the voice--always a very necessary
proceeding in the first training of a voice, although it
seems to be so only in the case of such voices as have been
previously misdirected.

The culture of the female voice is best begun with the two
series of the falsetto register and the second of the chest
register; the tones of these three middle registers must be
pretty well cultivated before the lowest chest tones and the
head voice are begun to be formed. The voice in this way best
attains to an equal fulness. It is self-evident also that the
teaching should be such that the transitions of the registers
should be not at all or scarcely perceptible, consequently
that all the tones should sound proportionally strong and
full.

In the soprano voice the falsetto, and in the contralto voice
the chest register, have more fulness and grace, and thus we
may distinguish to which kind of voice a voice belongs, for
the compass of the voice is not always confined within certain
limits. There are contraltos that can sing the high head tones
with ease, and sopranos that can sing the low chest tones with
equal facility--a fact which has often given occasion to an
incorrect treatment of a voice. So also with the male voice.
A bass voice sings the lower series of the chest register with
more ease and sweetness and with more obscure timbre. A tenor
voice sings the second series of the chest register in a
clearer timbre.

The baritone and mezzo-soprano voices, so called--that is,
such voices as have a limited compass, and cannot sing either
the highest or the lowest tones--are by no means so numerous
as they are thought to be. The best tenor voices, which cannot
naturally reach the lowest bass tones, and whose organs do not
allow of an unnatural forcing up beyond the higher limits of
the chest register, are commonly pronounced baritone voices,
for no one now-a-days thinks of cultivating the falsetto
register of the male voice.

Few teachers, likewise, understand how to teach correctly the
tones of the head register. If a soprano voice cannot readily
and agreeably sing the low contralto tones, and extend the
falsetto scale far enough upwards beyond its limit, it is
reckoned among the mezzo-soprano voices. The celebrated singing
master _Thomaselli_, of _Padua_, maintained that baritone and
mezzo-soprano voices “had no existence in nature, but were only
the products of our false methods of instruction.”

I have sometimes found mezzo-soprano and baritone voices,
but not in so great number by far as the four chief kinds
of voices--bass, tenor, contralto, and soprano.

Although an exact knowledge of the vocal organ and its various
actions must be required of a teacher before the education of
a voice can be committed to him, yet it would be unwise to
undertake to teach singing by means of scientific explanations
without sufficient previous knowledge; the pupil would, in
this case, understand as little of what he was about and be as
little helped as a child learning to read would be assisted by
one who merely sought to make intelligible to him the mechanism
by which sound is formed. The most natural and the simplest way
in singing, as in all things else, is the best. Let the teacher
sing correctly every tone to his pupil until the latter knows
how to imitate it, and his ear has learned how to distinguish
the different timbres.[5]

The discovery of the natural transitions of the registers has
brought to light one of the greatest evils of our present mode
of singing, and shown at the same time how wanting in durability
are the voices of those of our artists whose aim and endeavor it
is to force the registers upward beyond their natural limits.
Although the concert pitch is so very much higher now than it
was in the most flourishing period of the singing art, yet no
regard is paid to this fact in the education of a voice, and our
tenorists try to reach the a¹ with the chest register, just as
they did one hundred and fifty years ago.

In the _ignorance existing concerning the natural transitions
of the registers, and in the unnatural forcing of the voice, is
found a chief cause of the decline of the art of singing. And
the present inability to preserve the voice is the consequence
of a method of teaching unnatural, and therefore imposing too
great a strain upon the voice._[6]

No one who has not made the art of singing a special study, can
form any idea of the obscure and conflicting views in regard to
the transitions of the registers which prevail among singing
teachers and artists. Almost every teacher has a peculiar theory
of his own in regard to the formation of the voice; every one has
his own views, sometimes extremely fanciful, of the formation of
tones and of the registers--views to which he tenaciously adheres,
summarily rejecting all others. Almost as at the building of the
tower of Babel, one teacher scarcely understands any longer what
another means, and instead of harmonious endeavors to improve the
art, teachers of singing are commonly found disputing among
themselves.

To bring light and order into such a chaos can only be accomplished
by the most thorough scientific study, and even then it is an
undertaking of the greatest difficulty. Custom stands in the way
as an antagonist, and there must be a conflict with long-cherished
and wide-spread errors and prejudices. It lies also in the nature
of the case that teachers of singing are the most determined
opponents to be encountered. It is very hard for this class, and
it demands of them no common self-denial to acknowledge and renounce
as errors what they have taught for years and held to be truths.
Those teachers, however, who have made the necessary sacrifice,
have been compensated with the richest success; and such, we trust,
will in all cases be the result, and so the path be broken for the
true and the natural.

It will be perhaps comparatively easy to advance the art of singing
in America; for, as Humboldt says, not entirely without truth, the
Germans require for every improvement two centuries--one to find
out the need of it, and another to make it.

  [2] It must be remarked that the diagrams here given are copies
      of _reflected_ images, and therefore the upper side of the
      representation shows the front of the larynx, and the lower
      the farther side of the larynx.

  [3] In recent works on laryngoscopy they are often described
      as continuations or parts of one of the principal muscles
      of the larynx.

  [4] In recent French and English works upon laryngoscopy,
      the cuneiform cartilages are frequently mentioned, and
      sometimes confounded with the cartilages Wrisbergi.

  [5] On this account the male voice should be trained by men
      and the female voice by women. For, as it is impossible
      for a man to give to a female pupil a correct perception
      of the tones of the head register and of the second series
      of the falsetto, with its peculiar female timbre, so is it
      impossible for a woman to sing and teach correctly the
      deep, sonorous chest tones of the male voice. _Frederick
      Wiek_, that admirable teacher, who perceives intuitively
      what is natural and true in instruction, has an excellent
      expedient. In his hours of instruction he avails himself
      of the aid of young women with practised voices, who sing
      every exercise to his female pupils until the latter are
      able to imitate them correctly.

  [6] Voices which by this overstrained and unnatural way of
      singing have become worn-out and useless may by correct,
      proper treatment recover, even at an advanced age, their
      former grace and power; and even those chronic inflammations
      of the larynx which are so difficult of treatment may be
      cured by a natural and moderate exercise of the voice in
      singing.




III

PHYSICAL VIEW

FORMATION OF SOUNDS BY THE VOCAL ORGAN


For the artistic culture of the singing voice the knowledge of
the physiological processes during the formation of tones does
not suffice. This knowledge brings us acquainted only with the
instrument, the artistic treatment of which is to be learned.
Having, therefore, in the preceding pages stated the most
important points in the formation of tones, physiologically
considered, we are now to consider more nearly the physical
laws relating to the same, especially as the physical view of
the subject, through the latest investigations and discoveries
of Prof. Helmholtz, in Heidelberg, has so much importance for
music in general. In order, however, to present a clear view
of this branch of our subject, in so far as the recent advances
of science can be practically applied to the improvement of the
art of singing, we must recur to those natural laws which are
doubtless well known to most of our readers.

In order to bring the external world to our consciousness, we are
provided with various organs of sense; and as the eye is sensible
to the light, the ear is sensible to sound, which comes to our
consciousness either as noise (_Geräusch_) or as tone (_Klang_).
The whistling of the wind, the plashing of water, the rattling of
a wagon are noises, but musical instruments give us tones. When,
however, many untuned instruments sound together, or when all the
keys within an octave are struck on the same time, then it is
a noise that we hear. Tones are therefore more simple and regular
than noises. The ear perceives both by means of the agitation of
the air that surrounds us. In the case of noise the agitation of
the air is an irregularly changing motion. In musical sounds, on
the other hand, there is a movement of the air in a continuously
regular manner, which must be caused by a similar movement in the
body which gives the sound. These so-called periodical movements
of the sound in the body, rising, falling and repeated at equal
intervals, are called vibrations. The length of the interval
elapsing between one movement and the next succeeding repetition
of the same movement is called the duration of vibration
(_Schwingungsdauer_), or period of motion.


TONE, AND ITS LAWS OF VIBRATION

A _tone_ is produced by a periodical motion of the sounding
body--a _noise_ by motions _not_ periodical. We can see and
feel the sounding vibrations of stationary bodies. The eye can
perceive the vibrations of a string, and a person playing on
a clarionet, oboe, or any similar instrument, feels the vibration
of the reed of the mouthpiece. How the movements of the air,
agitated by the vibrations of the stationary body, are felt by
the ear as tone (_Klang_), Helmholtz illustrates by the motion of
waves of water in the following way: Imagine a stone thrown into
perfectly smooth water. Around the point of the surface struck by
the stone there is instantly formed a little ring, which, moving
outwards equally in all directions, spreads to an ever-enlarging
circle. Corresponding to this ring, sound goes out in the air
from an agitated point, and enlarges in all directions as far as
the limits of the atmosphere permit. What goes on in the air is
essentially the same that takes place on the surface of the water;
the chief difference only is that sound spreads out in the spacious
sea of air like a sphere, while the waves on the surface of the
water can extend only like a circle. At the surface the mass
of the water is free to rise upward, where it is compressed and
forms billows, or crests. In the interior of the aerial ocean
the air must be condensed, because it cannot rise. For, “in fact,
the condensation of the sound-wave corresponds to the crest,
while the rarefaction of the sound-wave corresponds to the sinus
of the water-wave.”[7]

The water-waves press continually onwards into the distance, but
the particles of the water move to and fro periodically within
narrow limits. One may easily see these two movements by observing
a small piece of wood floating on water; the wood moves just as the
particles of water in contact with it move. It is not carried along
with the rings of the wave, but is tossed up and down, and at last
remains in the same place where it was at the first. In a similar
way, as the particles of water around the wood are moved by the
ring only in passing, so the waves of sound spread onwards through
new strata of air, while the particles of air, tossed to and fro by
these waves as they pass, are never really moved by them from their
first place. A drop falling upon the surface of the water creates
in it only a single agitation; but when a regular series of drops
falls upon it, every drop produces a ring on the water. Every ring
passes over the surface just like its predecessor, and is followed
by other rings in the same way. In this way there is produced on
the water a regular series of rings ever expanding. As many drops
as fall into the water in a second, so many waves will in a second
strike a floating piece of wood, which will be just so many times
tossed up and down, and thus have a periodical motion, the period
of which corresponds with the interval at which the drops fall. In
like manner a sounding body, periodically moved, produces a similar
periodic movement, first of the air, and then of the drum in the
ear; the duration of the vibrations constituting the movement must
be the same in the ear as in the sounding body.


THE PROPERTIES OF TONE (KLANG)

The sounds produced by such periodic agitations of the air have
three peculiar properties: 1. STRENGTH, 2. PITCH, 3. TIMBRE.

The strength of the tone depends on the greater or less breadth
of its vibrations, that is, of the waves of sound, the higher or
lower pitch of the tones upon the number of the vibrations; that
is, the tones are always higher the greater the number of the
vibrations, or lower the less the number of the vibrations.
A second is used as the unit of time, and by number of vibrations
is understood the number of vibrations which the sounding body
gives forth in a second of time. The tones used in music lie
between 40 and 4000 vibrations per second, in the extent of seven
octaves. The tones which we can perceive lie between 16 and 38,000
vibrations to the second, within the compass of eleven octaves.
The later pianos usually go as low as C₁ with 33, or even to A₂
with 27½ vibrations; mostly as high as a⁴ or c⁵, with 3520 and
4224 vibrations. The one lined a¹, from which all instruments
are tuned, has now usually 440 to 450 vibrations to the second
in England and America. The French Academy, however, has recently
established for the same note 435 vibrations, and this lower
tuning has already been universally introduced in Germany.[8]

The high octave of a tone has in the same time exactly double
the number of vibrations of the tone itself. Suppose, therefore,
that a tone has 50 vibrations in a second, its octave has 100
in the same time; i.e., twice as many. The octave above this has
200 vibrations, &c. The Pythagoreans knew this acoustic law of
the ascending tones, and that the octave of a tone had twice as
many vibrations in a second as the tone itself, and that the
fifth above the first octave had three times as many; the second
octave, four times; the major third above the second octave,
five times as many; the fifth of the same octave, six times; the
small seventh of the same octave, seven times. In notation it
would be thus, if we take as the lowest note C, for example:

  1:C 2:c 3:g 4:c¹ 5:e¹ 6:g¹ 7:b♭¹ 8:c² 9:d² 16:c³ 32:c⁴

The figures below the lines denote how many times greater the
number of vibrations is than that of the first tone. In the
first octave we find only one tone; in the second, two; in the
third, all the tones of the major chord with the minor seventh.
In the fourth octave we find sixteen tones (which, however, we
divide in our system of music into twelve). Likewise, we find
in the fifth octave thirty-two tones, which number is doubled in
the sixth. Hence, the Greeks had quarter and eighth tones, which
we in our equal-tempered tuning have done away with.[9]

The production of a higher pitch in a tone rests in all sounding
bodies upon the uniform law which we may observe in the strings
of musical instruments, whose tones ascend either by greater
tension, by shortening, or through a diminution of the density
of the strings.


THE TIMBRE (KLANGFARBE) OF TONES

Strength and pitch were the first two distinctions of different
tones. The third is the timbre. When we hear one and the same
tone sounded successively upon a violin, trumpet, clarionet,
oboe, upon a piano, or by a human voice, &c., although it is of
the same strength and of the same pitch, yet the tone of all
these instruments is different, and we very easily distinguish
the instrument from which it comes. The changes of the timbre
seem to be infinitely manifold; for, not to mention the fact
that we have a multitude of different musical instruments, all
which can give the same tone, letting alone also that different
instruments of the same kind as well as different voices show
certain differences of timbre, the very same tone can be given
upon one and the same instrument, or by one and the same voice,
with manifold differences of timbre.[10]

As now the strength of the tone is determined by the breadth of the
vibrations, and the pitch by their number, so the varieties of timbre
are ascribed to the different forms of the waves of vibration. For as
the surface of the water is stirred differently by the falling into
it of a stone, by the blowing over it of the wind, or the passing
through it of a ship, &c., so the movements of the air take different
shapes from sounding bodies. The movement proceeding from the string
of a violin over which the bow is drawn, is different from those
movements caused by the hammer of a piano or by a clarionet.


OVER-TONES (OBERTÖNE)

That timbre is dependent on the form of the vibrations is
confirmed by Helmholtz, and acknowledged as so far correct that
every different timbre requires a different vibratory form, but
different forms sometimes correspond to nearly the same timbre.
But how far the different forms of vibration correspond with
different timbres, Helmholtz shows by a fact which has hitherto
escaped the notice of physicists, although it forms the foundation
of all music. We have learned by the stereoscope that we have two
different views of every object, and compose a third view from
those two. _Just so the ear perceives different musical tones
which come to our consciousness only as one tone._

It is in general, and especially in the case of the human
voice, very difficult to distinguish these single parts of
tone, because we are accustomed to take the impressions of
the external world without analyzing them, and only with
a view to their use.

But when we are once convinced of the existence of partial tones
(_Partialtöne_), if we concentrate our attention, we can also
distinguish them. The ear hears, then, not only that tone, the
pitch of which is determined, as we have shown, by the duration
of its vibrations, but a whole series of tones besides, which
Helmholtz names “_the harmonic over-tones_” of the tone, in
opposition to that first tone (fundamental tone) which is the
lowest among them all, generally the strongest also, and according
to the pitch of which we decide the pitch of the tone. The series
of these over-tones is for each musical tone precisely the same;
they are, namely, the tones of the so-called acoustic series,
arising, as already described, from the doubling of the vibrations.
First, the fundamental tone, then its octave with twice as many
vibrations, then the fifth of this octave, &c.

The different timbre of tones thus depends upon the different
forms of the vibrations, whence arise various relations of the
fundamental tone to the over-tones as they vary in strength. The
most thorough inquiries have led to the following results, of the
first importance in every formation of tone: _that the appropriate
form of the vibratory waves which is the most agreeable to the ear,
as well as the fullest, softest and most beautiful timbre which
corresponds to that form, is produced when the fundamental tone,
and the over-tones following it, so sound that the fundamental tone
and the over-tones sound together, the former most strongly, while
the latter are heard fainter and fainter in the intervals of the
major chord with the minor seventh, so that, with the fundamental
tone, still further sound seven over-tones_. If the higher harmonic
over-tones grow stronger, and even overpower the fundamental tone,
the sound grows shriller, but when the discordant over-tones lying
close together, higher than the tones just named, overpower the
fundamental tone, the timbre becomes sharp and disagreeable.

But these over-tones are not to be confounded with the earlier
known combination-tones (_Combinationstöne_), which arise from
the sounding together of two consonant intervals, and likewise
have their own over-tones.

Prof. Helmholtz has by means of his Resonance and Electrical
apparatus invented aids by which the forms of the vibrations can
be perceived as well as the over-tones, and the different degrees
of strength of the latter in relation to one another and to the
fundamental tone can be exactly measured. In attempting by means of
the above-mentioned apparatus to cause the several over-tones to
sound more or less strongly with the fundamental tone, and again
entirely to veil others, it became possible to Prof. Helmholtz to
produce artificially most opposite timbres, as well as all the
vowels of speech.

Even when, in the culture of a voice, we have advanced so far
that none of the inharmonic but only the harmonic over-tones
sound with the fundamental tone, we shall always find that
every voice has its own peculiar _Klangfarbe_--i.e., its own
characteristic timbre; and it is not possible so to form the
tones of a voice that the over-tones sounding with them shall
diminish proportionally according to their height. Every voice
has one, mostly two, over-tones, which always predominate in
every tone, every register, and give the voice its peculiar
quality. When, with the first octave, the fifth above it
sounds, the voice is full and mellow. A clear, sympathetic,
silvery ring is produced by the sounding of the seventh with
the octave immediately above it. One of the most beautiful
timbres is a result of the prominence of the third with the
seventh, etc. This peculiarity appears to be connected with the
particular form and structure of the cavity of the mouth. That
parts of the cavity of the mouth serve as a sounding-board in
the formation of sound, has already been mentioned.[11]

The perfection of a tone at a certain pitch depends, in the
resonance of the cavity of the mouth, upon the utterance of
some vowel, to which the parts of the mouth are adjusted; and
this perfection is considerably affected by even a slight
variation in the timbre of the vowel, as it occurs in different
dialects of the same language. On the other hand, the peculiar
tones of the cavity of the mouth are almost wholly independent
of age and sex. The peculiar pitch of the resonance apparatus
has also an influence upon the tone. Every one who knows how
to play on any instrument knows that some of its tones sound
sweeter and are more easily given than others; these are the
tones in which the peculiar tone of the instrument and its
over-tones sound together. To describe more particularly the
natural laws upon which these facts rest would lead us too far
away from our present purpose.


THE VOWELS

Every tone in singing usually takes the sound of some vowel.
By the greater or less distinctness of one or another of the
over-tones, sounding with the fundamental tone, various timbres
of the vowel are produced. But certain vowels in certain parts
of the scale can be sung far more easily and sweetly than
others. The investigation of this fact has taught us that
a tone gains in richness when the tone corresponding to the
vowel belongs to the over-tones of the fundamental tone. In
the human voice, however, the tones favorable to the several
vowels do not admit of being precisely determined.

In different languages and dialects the vowels have different
shades, and a scarcely perceptible variation, especially in the
clearer vowels, is sufficient to cause the over-tones to be heard
more or less distinctly. After I had learned, with the kind
assistance of Professor Helmholtz, by means of his artificial
apparatus for the sharpening of the ear, to find out over-tones
and to know their peculiarities, I was soon able, without any
artificial help, to discover the vowels favorable to them by the
fuller sound of certain tones. In the female voice all tones below
the c¹ take the character of _o_. At the c¹, _a_, pronounced as in
the English word _hall_, sounds the best, and at d♯¹ e¹ passes in
to _a_, as in _man_, and at f¹ into _a_, as in _may_. With the g¹
the _a_ sounds again as in _man_; a¹ b♭¹ b¹ c² are favorable to
all the vowels, while d² e♭² e² sound best with _e_. After e²
every tone takes the coloring of _a_, as in _father_, and sounds
well only with this vowel; b♭² c³ d³ sound again better with _e_.
As thus, above e² f² all the tones take the coloring of _a_ in
_father_, so the tones below c¹ take the timbre of _o_, and the
most skilful artists are not able to sing all the vowels in these
tones with equal clearness and purity. The female voice, therefore,
has only a few tones more than an octave, upon which every one of
the vowels can be distinctly sung; and again, all these tones do
not afford an equally sonorous tone with every vowel.

As unfortunately our Song composers do not always keep this fact
in view, as the old Italians did, and since words with the most
unfavorable vowels often underlie the notes, it as often becomes
necessary to mingle with the unfavorable vowel something of the
sound (_Klang_) of the vowel properly belonging to the note; as,
for example, in the word “ring” upon f², to sing the _i_ with
a mixture of the sound (_Klang_) of _a_. Artists do this in
a way of which they are for the most part unconscious, and which
is always unobserved by the hearer. That in every voice there
are several tones upon which every vowel sounds well, finds an
explanation in an observation of Professor Helmholtz. The ear is
attuned to a certain tone, designated as e⁴ f⁴. To persons with
very susceptible nerves these tones are often insupportable, and
we often see dogs, whose sense of hearing is especially acute,
run howling away when the above e⁴ is struck upon a violin,
while to other tones they seem wholly insensible. But all the
tones which are accompanied by that tone as an over-tone to
which the ear is attuned, sound harmonious even with unfavorable
vowels.


PARTIAL TONES

But beside the over-tones, which sound with every good, simple
sound, there are other _partial tones_, which, like the long-known
combination tones, do not usually present themselves to our
consciousness. Combination tones were first discovered in 1745 by
the organ-builder, _Sorge_. By an act of concentrated attention
one hears these tones at the accord of two different tones. They
lie always lower than the interval to which they belong, and arise
from the meeting of the nodes of vibration of the tones producing
the interval. The node of vibration is the name of that place
where, after every completed vibration, the sounding body returns
to its former position. When, for instance, we give the third c¹
e¹, we hear the c, lying an octave lower than the third, sounding
at the same time as a combination tone. For the tone c¹ a string
has two vibrations, while in the same space of time e¹ has three.
The vibration node of the c¹ will thus, after two vibrations,
coincide with the vibration node of the e¹. By the coincidence of
these nodes of vibration is produced the number of vibrations
requisite for the c below. Besides these combination tones there
are summation tones, discovered by Helmholtz, which arise from the
vibrations collectively (_Gesammtzahl_) belonging to the above
interval, and are higher than the interval. Both kinds of partial
tones have again their faint over-tones.


BEATS (DIE SCHWEBUNGEN)

We have explained the movements of the waves of sound by the
movements on the surface of water, and we know that, instead of
the billows and hollows that we have in the water, the air is
condensed and rarefied. We know further that if two different
lines of waves run along with one another, their crests and
hollows fall together, and their crests become as high again and
their hollows as deep again. So two tones from different sources
of sound are twice as strong when they are both equally high,
and a new tone of the same height added to them will still
further increase the sound. But when two agitations of the
surface of the water so move that the crests of one fall into
the hollows of the other, their movements neutralize each other.
The same thing happens in tones when one is not struck until
half the vibrations of the preceding tone are concluded. But if
the sounding bodies vary in only a small part of a vibration
sound, they will be alternately stronger and weaker, and this is
termed beats (_Schwebungen_), which are only produced by tones
_very near to each other_. Those intervals whose combination and
over-tones so fall together that many beats are produced, sound
harsh and disagreeable, and we call them dissonances.

Those intervals in which few or no beats occur are called
consonances. As the combination or interfering tones, as well
as the beats, have importance and interest only in harmonizing
several voices, in tuning pianos, as well as in composition in
general, and as we have in view in these pages only the culture
of single voices, we cannot further enlarge on these discoveries,
interesting as they are. According to the purpose of this little
work, I introduce only so much of the latest investigations and
discoveries as will help to show the prevailing evils of our mode
of teaching singing, and, by their practical application to the
business of instruction, serve to improve the vocal art. But
whoever has an interest in this branch of science will find in the
invaluable work of Helmholtz, “Die Lehre von den Tonempfindungen,”
an abundance of most interesting observations and of the most
thoroughly scientific illustrations of the theory of music, and
of those processes in the domain of tone which we have hitherto
always felt, but never understood.


APPLICATION OF THE NATURAL LAWS LYING AT THE FOUNDATION OF
MUSICAL SOUNDS TO THE CULTURE OF THE VOICE IN SINGING

The parts of the human voice that generate tones are the membranous
vocal ligaments or chords, which are subject to the same natural laws
as all sounding bodies; of this we may satisfy ourselves by observing
the different registers of the voice by means of the laryngoscope. The
lower, stronger tones of both series of the chest register show the
ligaments in full vibration, and becoming more strongly stretched with
every higher tone. In the second series the glottis appears, by the
inaction of the arytenoid cartilages, to be shortened. In the falsetto
register the vibrating body is diminished, as only the edges vibrate,
while the same processes are repeated as in the chest register by the
greater stretching of the ligaments and the shortening of the glottis.
The head register, likewise, shows the glottis partly closed, and the
vibrating ligaments gradually stretched more and more.

The vocal ligaments are made to vibrate by the air coming from
the lungs through the trachea, to which they present resistance.
These vibrations are communicated to the air in the mouth and
outside, and are felt by the ear as sound.

As the strength of the tone depends upon the amplitude of the
waves of sound, they, in their turn, depend upon the structure
of the organ of singing, and of the parts of the mouth serving
as a sounding-board or resonant apparatus, but, above all, upon
the skilful management of the vibrating air. And although a fine
timbre of the tones and due skill in increasing the amplitude of
the vibrations may cause the voice to appear fuller and stronger,
yet it is not in our power, when once the vocal organs have been
fully developed, to make a strong voice out of a weak one.

Always to strike the true pitch fully and clearly requires
persevering attention, as well from the teacher as from the
pupil. And long practice is often required before the intonations
become as pure as is indispensably necessary to good singing. For
only upon the basis of a full, pure tone is a beautiful timbre
(_Klangfarbe_) possible.

But the most important thing in the culture of the voice is
the timbre of the tones, for _here it is in our power to form
out of a sharp, hard and disagreeable voice, a voice sweet
and pleasing_.

We have seen that the timbre is dependent on the forms of the
vibrating waves, and the different degrees of strength and number
of the over-tones arising from these forms. It has been further
shown that the simple round form of the waves of vibration produces
the softest, fullest timbre. By this form the fundamental tone is
the strongest, and the over-tones are heard ascending to the third
octave with decreasing degrees of strength. Such a tone is natural
to certain voices. In most cases it must be more or less acquired.

A good tone in singing is formed,

1. By controlling and correctly dividing the air or breath
as it is expired;

2. By a correct direction of the vibrating column of air;
this is done by the right touch (_Tonansatz_);

And, 3. By a very distinct, quick and elastic _touch_.


THE CONTROL OF THE BREATH

By a too great pressure of the breath, the form of the waves of
sound most favorable to a good tone is disturbed. One then hears
the high over-tones sounding strongly up to the sixteenth, while
the lower over-tones with the fundamental tone sound weak or not
at all. Thus the tone takes a shrill, sharp and disagreeable sound
when the form of the vibrating waves is more or less disturbed
by too great a pressure of air. Too little breath deprives the
tone only of its strength, but not of its agreeable sound.

_Thus every tone requires for its greatest possible perfection
only a certain quantity of breath, which cannot be increased
or diminished without injury to its strength in the one case,
and its agreeable sound in the other._

In looking carefully through the histories of music, and studying
the old Italian schools, we find that it was upon this point--the
control and right division of the breathing--that the old masters
in the summer of song laid the greatest stress, and this it was
to which in teaching they gave the most time and labor. The rules
which they followed in this respect, in order to obtain a fine
tone, accord perfectly with the results of the latest scientific
investigations. And it would be far better for the art of singing
if in this respect we had followed the old Italians more faithfully,
and not have forsaken so entirely the right way.

According to the old Italian method, which must not be confounded
with the modern, the pupil was required at first to breathe just as
he was wont to breathe in speaking, and care was taken, by frequent
resting-points in the exercises, that the breath should always be
renewed at the right time. Accordingly, if the crowding, or pressure,
of his breathing was too great, he was required to learn to hold it
back. Until the organs were sufficiently practised in the formation
of a good tone, and the ear had become familiarized to its sound,
pupils were allowed to sing _only_ _piano_. As soon as the pupil had
a feeling for a pure tone awakened in him, and could of himself
distinguish the finer variations of timbre, he was taught to fill his
lungs more and more. But this was to be done, as much as possible,
imperceptibly, noiselessly, slowly, and soon enough for him to be
able properly to control the quiet breathing in the beginning of
a song. Only the sides of the body were in so doing to expand, and
breathing with raised chest was allowed only in exceptional cases, as
where long passages were to be sung with special passion. For these
places, where breath must be taken, there were certain rules which
were strictly observed.

After we have learned the natural laws which are applicable in
music, and which lie at the basis of a full, rich tone in singing,
and that a tone is, strictly speaking, only vibrating air, upon
the fine and skilful management of which its beauty and fulness
depend, and have considered the careful way in which the old
Italians taught the control of the breathing, we cannot but be
struck with the rude and negligent manner of using the breath
in our present mode of singing.

With some distinguished exceptions, it is now almost universally
the practice to require the pupil, as the very first thing, to fill
the lungs as full as possible, whereby the chest must be raised.
Then the tones must be sung in as strong and long-sustained
a manner as possible, in order “to bring out the voice,” as the
phrase is. He is next told to begin the tones with a full chest
_piano_, and slowly swell them to the highest _forte_, and then
descend as slowly, in order to learn “to govern the voice.” Thus
the pupil is always required to sing as strongly as possible,
without any special regard to the timbre of the tones, because the
timbre is regarded as a peculiarity of different voices, admitting
of no change. According to what has been shown in the preceding
pages, the present way of using the breath, by which it is supposed
that voices are rendered strong and full, only needlessly fatigues
the organs, injures the beauty and weakens even the strength of the
tones. In the same way we find, especially in the case of tenor
voices, that the aim is by greater forcing of the breath to extend
the registers beyond their limits. Another fault is often taught:
the pupil is required to force with the breath to the due pitch
those tones whose pitch is usually struck too low. No voices can
ever endure such treatment, and, although the organs may be strong
enough to remain sound while under instruction, yet the voice will
not continue good, and cannot be of long duration.

We often hear, even in fresh and unsophisticated voices,
a hoarse breathing accompanying the tones, as in the case of
worn-out voices. This breathing arises when the air, which is
exhaled and which rushes into the cavity of the mouth, is not
all in vibration, and it escapes along with the vibrating
columns of air. It sometimes happens, also, that in the too
great pressure of the exhaled air against the glottis, the
arytenoid cartilages, near their bases, and sometimes the
vocal chords leave a small opening through which the air
escapes with a hoarse noise. By keeping back the breath in
singing these faults may be corrected. Long-continued singing
piano in exercises is, moreover, beneficial in the forming of
the voice.[12]

A simple expiration does not indeed suffice for the generation
of a full sounding singing tone. There is required a certain
force by which the air is sent through the narrow and stretched
glottis. But so great an expense of force as people are usually
at is not necessary.

The influence of the same stream of air increases in proportion
as the breadth of the vibrating ligaments decreases. The tones
of the falsetto and head registers, therefore, require far less
breath than those of the chest register. The less the quantity
of breath expended in these tones, and the easier and more
quickly they are produced, the clearer and fuller do they sound.
The mechanism of the head tones especially is, as we have seen,
so delicate that only a slight excess of breath calls forth the
inharmonic over-tones which render the tone sharp and unmusical.
In wind instruments the tone can be forced upwards by a greater
pressure of air; that is, by more powerful blowing, which
appears to be practicable also in those instruments in whose
peculiar timbre the highest inharmonic over-tones overpower the
others.[13]

Together with the skill and unintermitted attention which this
part of instruction in singing requires of the teacher, there are
here yet other and peculiar difficulties which he has to meet. In
opposition to the earlier and more correct view, it is no longer
beauty of tone, but strength of tone, which is considered the
chief excellence of a voice. Accustomed to seek the beauty of
the voice in its strength, it is attempted, before the time of
instruction begins, to sing as strongly as possible from a full
chest with the greatest expulsion of breath. Thence it follows,
in the superficial way in which the study of the art of singing
is at present conducted, that nothing more is commonly required
of a teacher than that he should be able to drill his pupil in
some pieces of tolerably well conceived vocal music, which the
latter must sing as soon as possible in company. A perfect
culture of the voice is scarcely any longer expected of an
artist. People with a very scanty musical education and voices
very poorly trained are regarded as artists if they execute their
parts with expression, and trick them out with those clap-traps
which never fail to command the applause of the ordinary public.

A conscientious teacher has, therefore, universal opinion against
him when he demands a longer time for the education of a voice,
and requires of his pupils that they shall practice singing only
piano as long as it is necessary.


THE CORRECT TOUCH OF THE VOICE (TONANSATZ)[14]

Having stated the first condition of a good timbre of the tones, we
come now to the second--the right direction of the vibrating columns of
air. A correct touch of the voice consists in causing the air, brought
into vibration by the vocal ligaments, to rebound from immediately
above the front upper teeth, where it must be concentrated as much as
possible, rebounding thence to form in the mouth continuous vibrations,
which are, at the same time, communicated to the external air. The
quicker and the more easily these movements take place, and the farther
forward in the mouth the vibrating column of air is reflected, the more
beautiful, full and telling is the tone. If the air rebounds farther
back in the mouth from any part of the roof of the mouth, then the high
inharmonic over-tones are prominent, and there arises either one or the
other of those hollow, disagreeable colorings of timbre which are known
as throat and nasal tones.

That the voice must be brought forward in the mouth--that is,
that the air expired in singing should have the above described
direction--is now acknowledged as necessary and aimed at by the
best teachers. But the reasons why the tones thus sound better
are not known. The Germans and the English, in consequence of
their accustomed modes of forming sounds in speaking, have, as
we shall see hereafter, more rarely than the Italians, a correct
disposition of the tones in singing. It is extremely difficult
for many persons to accustom themselves to such a direction of
the vibrating air-columns. But with the proper means the skilful
teacher always gains his end. These means are to let the pupil
practice those syllables which he is accustomed, _in his own
language_, to form wholly in front of the mouth.

The old Italian masters considered the management or touch of
the tone as one of the most important requirements in the
perfect cultivation of the voice. Distinctly, lightly, swiftly
and elastically must the column of tone, rightly directed,
strike the forward part of the mouth, which at the same moment
opens widely enough to communicate without delay the quick
agitation to the air external to it.

_Only by a correct movement of this kind (Ansatz) are those
forms of the vibrations obtained in which all the harmonic
over-tones belonging to a perfect tone sound together._ The
quicker, lighter and more distinct this movement of the tone is,
the more telling it is, and it may be heard quite strongly, even
when it is sung _piano_ with a full chorus and orchestra. Upon
the occasion of the great Musical Festival in Boston (1869), it
was a matter of universal wonder that with the powerful chorus
of many thousands of voices, Mad. Parepa-Rosa's tones were heard
so distinctly that even at a considerable distance the words
were plainly understood. As great artists often find the true
and only beautiful unconsciously, so Mad. Parepa-Rosa has
a perfectly correct touch, whereby she sets the surrounding air
vibrating more rapidly than it is possible for a chorus to do
with so many unschooled voices. The sounding waves of the tones
which this distinguished singer produced with the correct touch,
naturally reached the ear sooner and were earlier felt and taken
into the consciousness of the listener than those of the mighty
chorus, and thus it was that the music of a single voice kept
its significance even with the accompaniment of a multitude of
voices.

The great influence of the touch upon the fulness, and especially
upon the extent to which tones reach, is again best illustrated
by the movements of water. When we press on the surface of water
slowly, though with the greatest force, and at the same time
touch it in another place quickly and lightly, it is not only
far more strongly moved by the quick, light touch, but the waves
which are produced spread themselves out more rapidly, and run
more swiftly over the surface, than those of the slower and more
powerful pressure.

As the form of the vibrations necessary to a perfect tone in
singing depends mainly upon a right management of tone, it is
self-evident that here the greatest care should be taken in
teaching vocal music. Here is one of the most difficult tasks for
the teacher, and great perseverance and much practice are required
of the pupil. But when once a right production of tone has become
a habit, so that with every tone all the harmonic over-tones sound,
and more breath is then allowed to stream forth immediately after
the quick, light rebound of the vibrating column of tone, the
vibrations enlarge without changing their form, and so only the
strongest, fullest, most beautiful tone possible is obtained. But
a touch can only be learned by imitation. We can no more describe
the fine shades of tone than of color. And no art, least of all
the art of singing, can be learned from books alone.


FORMATION OF VOWELS AND CONSONANTS

The sound of the vowels depends, as we have seen, upon whether
one or another of the over-tones takes precedence in sound.
But the conditions by which the formation of the vowels is
determined lie in the form of the cavity of the mouth, and
of the contraction of the same in some one place or another
during expiration. These places are different in different
languages and dialects. They are among the English, Germans
and French farthest back in sounding _a_, as in _father_;
farther forward in _a_, as in _may_, _o_, _e_, in the order
in which they are here placed; and farther front in the
German _u_ (_oo_).

The length of the cavity of the mouth is the greatest in
sounding _oo_, the least in _e_, intermediate in _a_. In the
pure, clear _a_, as in _may_, or _e_ of the Germans, the cavity
is the narrowest. Hence, to form a tone on this vowel is very
difficult, and it is the only vowel whose pure pronunciation
must be sacrificed to the tone. Good tones can be formed on
this vowel when in both series of the chest register there is
mingled with it the sound of the German _ö_, pronounced in
English nearly like the vowel in _bird_, and in the higher
registers the sound of the _e_--that is, of the German _i_.
The cavity of the mouth is thus somewhat broadened, and the
tone gains more room for its development.

The Swiss form the _o_ and _u_ like the _a_ in _father_,
broadest at the back of the mouth, and the _e_ broadest
towards the front. But the Italians form no vowel as far
front as their clear sounding beautiful _a_, as in _father_;
and probably because the _a_ in the Italian language sounds
broadest and most distinctly, Italian wagoners drive their
beasts with the shout of _a! a!_ while the Germans use for
the same purpose, _hü! huo!_ and the Swiss, _hipp!_ One can
only approximate an imitation of the Italian _a_ by uttering
it in connection with consonants coming rapidly, as in _pfa_,
_bra_, and in as short and rapid a manner as possible.

The old Italian masters naturally found their beautiful _a_ most
favorable to the formation of a good tone in singing; and thus it
has been adopted by other nations. But here is the very reason
why a tone free from badly sounding colorings is so rarely heard.
We have blindly imitated the Italians, without considering the
different modes of forming the vowels in different languages and
nations, and that the Italian _a_ is a vowel entirely different
from the German and the similarly sounding English _a_. Its
correct sound is learned by those to whom it is not vernacular
only with difficulty.

As the vowels are differently formed in different languages,
so is it also with the consonants. The North Germans form the
letter _r_ with the soft palate, which is made to vibrate by
the exhalation of the breath. The South Germans, Russians and
Italians form the _r_ by the vibration of the tip of the
tongue. It is only this mode of forming the _r_ which is to
be used in singing, and must be learned by those who do not
usually form it thus. This is sometimes rather difficult, but
it can be done by repeating frequently and rapidly, one after
the other, the syllables _hede_, _hedo_, or _ede_, _edo_. In
this way the tongue gets accustomed to the right position and
motion, which it by-and-by learns rapidly enough for the
formation of the rolling _r_.

The Italians, likewise, form the _l_ with the tip of the tongue,
the Germans and English mostly with the side edges of the tongue.
With some attention one can, by feeling, find out in his own
organ the place for the formation of the different vowels and
consonants, and an ear accustomed to delicate differences of
tone will perceive the right place in others.

But in teaching, the example of the wagoners must be followed,
and as these people have found out the most appropriate vowels
and syllables whereby to make themselves understood by their
animals, we must choose what is best fitting to the formation
of tone in singing.

Long before I found the scientific reason of this mode of
proceeding, my attention was called by Frederic Wiek, in
Dresden, to the fact that a fine tone can be most quickly
attained by practising in the beginning upon the syllables
_sü_, _soo_, or _dü_, _doo_, and by not passing to the other
vowels until one is accustomed to produce tones in the front
of the mouth. These syllables are naturally spoken by the
Germans and the English in the front part of the mouth. The
_s_ is formed with the lips apart, while the air is blown
through the upper teeth; it thus assists one, united with _u_
(_oo_), to direct the tone forwards. But because in the _u_
the lips are almost closed, care must be taken that, within
the lips, the teeth are far enough apart. The cavity of the
mouth must be large enough to allow of the largest possible
wave of sound, since upon the size of that, as we know, the
strength of the tone depends. When the pupil, after some
practice, has learned to give the right direction to the
stream of sound, he must be required gradually to form the
other vowels like the _soo_ in the front part of the mouth,
passing from this syllable immediately to the other vowels,
as, for example, _soo-a_, _soo-o_, _soo-e_, _soo-o-e-ah_, &c.
Only care must be taken that the course of the air preserves
its right direction.

Solmisation, also, i.e., naming the tones, _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_,
_g_, _a_, _b_, by the syllables _do_, _re_, _mi_, _fa_, _sol_,
_la_, _si_, assists a good touch when the pupil employs it in
the more rapid exercises.

There is no fixed rule that can be laid down in regard to the
necessary opening of the mouth and its position. The structure
of the palate and the form of the jaw, and the position of the
teeth, lips, &c., vary in different persons. The ear of the
teacher must alone determine what position of those several
parts will best secure a good timbre. But in every case, for
the highest tones of the voice the widest possible opening of
the mouth is necessary, and even when, in the formation of the
vowels, the lips have to be brought nearer to each other, yet
the teeth within must be kept apart, that the cavity of the
mouth may remain large enough.

Wind instruments show the influence which the orifice and breadth
of the bell has upon the strength of the tone. In the human voice
the mouth occupies the place of the bell.

We have already made the remark, in speaking of the different
registers, that in the chest tones the position of the larynx is
lowered. The cavity of the mouth, then, is naturally lengthened,
and hence a moderate opening of the mouth, so that, in singing the
notes of the low chest register, the teeth are a thumb's breadth
apart, suffices for a good tone. The second chest register requires
the slightest opening of the mouth. It is enough if one can press
a finger between the teeth. With the high falsetto and head tones
the cavity of the mouth is always shorter and narrower towards the
back, but as the tones ascend, it must be always broader in front.
In singing the first falsetto register, the teeth should be about
the breadth of the thumb apart; in the second falsetto register,
two fingers apart; and in the head register, the mouth must be open
as far as possible. But precise rules cannot here be given. I have
observed, however, that in thin voices a too broad opening of the
mouth in the middle tones of the voice favors the high over-tones
more than the fundamental tone, and the tones are thus flat and
wanting in timbre.

Lips too thick and stiff sometimes injure the timbre of the
tone; they are often the cause of a veiled, muffled timbre,
acting like dampers and rendering a part of the over-tones
inaudible. In such cases, as soon as he has become accustomed
to a correct direction of the column of tone, the pupil should
keep the lips as close to the teeth as possible, and draw back
somewhat the corners of the mouth.

The tongue also is not infrequently a hindrance to the formation
of a good tone, especially when the pupils have not been taught
early enough to open their mouths sufficiently wide. When the high
tones are to be produced, which require much room in the forward
part of the mouth, the tongue is usually drawn back and raised,
in order to make the necessary room within the lower front teeth.
This, again, is a habit difficult to be broken, and care must be
taken that the lower front teeth are lightly touched by the tip of
the tongue in singing, in order that the tongue may be accustomed
to a natural position. But this is most easily attained when the
tongue is at the first kept occupied as much as possible by quick
exercises with the syllables of solmisation, or by practising
tones in slow time upon syllables beginning with consonants formed
by the tip of the tongue. As in pronouncing the German _Sch_ the
tongue presses the teeth all around with its outer edge, syllables
formed with these consonants serve excellently well to accustom
the tongue to a quiet, correct position.


FLEXIBILITY OF VOICE

We hear it continually said that it requires a special natural
gift to acquire a certain ease and flexibility of voice, and
that this natural gift is peculiar to the Italians. But the
flexibility of the voice depends upon a physiologico-physical
process of the organ of tone, which, among the Italians, goes on
in their common speech, and hence is more easily transferred by
them to their singing. In trills, roulades, turns, and all tones
quickly succeeding one another, the breath must set the vocal
chords vibrating in quick, short pulses. The little time used by
the breath between these rapidly succeeding pulses to retreat,
in order to give another pulse, suffices perfectly to produce
easily and quickly the position of the glottis requisite for
a higher or lower tone. In order, between the pulses, to give
room to the retreating breath, the windpipe expands laterally,
whereby the larynx is always somewhat drawn down, in order, with
the next pulse of the breath, to take again its former place.
This rising and lowering of the larynx can be seen plainly
outside the throat, and it can be seen also whether the movement
goes on rightly. Upon the degree of rapidity with which this
movement goes on depends the greater or less flexibility of the
voice.

But when the breath in exhaling presses in regularly increasing
strength against the vocal chords, and one wishes to pass quickly
to a higher tone and back again, as is required in trills, while
the aerial stream continues to flow on with unintermitted force,
it is evident that the changed movement of the glottis, even
within the limits of a register, demands more time and muscular
force than a beautiful trill or run admits of. But at the same
time the limits of the tones become, by the uninterrupted stream
of air, obliterated, and embellishments sung in this way, with
unmoved larynx, indistinct. But ornamentation is now practised
only in this latter way, and if pupils do not naturally move
their throats correctly, the gift of flexibility is denied them.

A quite prevalent and likewise incorrect way of using the throat is
moving the epiglottis with the larynx, which renders the formation
of a clear, pure tone impossible, and _fiorituri_ sung in this way
are limp and indistinct. The only correct movement shows itself very
plainly externally, so that with the tolerably strong movement of
the larynx up and down, there can be seen also a slighter movement
of the windpipe far below in the neck, about the breadth of two
fingers above the breast-bone. The mouth and tongue, however,
must be perfectly quiet.

But the cultivation of vocal flexibility in singing is the
easiest and most grateful part of the education of the voice, for
with ordinary industry on the part of the pupil results are here
obtained most speedily. In the very first lessons I teach my
pupils the motions of the vocal organ in trills, and if they do
not learn them by imitation, I give them simple exercises on the
syllable _koo_ to practice for a while. The _k_ is produced by
a pulse of the breath, and the _oo_ is, as we have seen, the best
vowel sound with which to direct the breath as it is expired.
Thus, by singing _staccato_ the syllable _koo_, slowly at first
and gradually quicker, with a movement of the larynx and windpipe
that is both seen and felt; and with the tongue and lips at rest
and motionless, the right movement is given to the organ in
trills and all other embellishments, and by continued practice
the movement becomes more rapid. Those who need to be taught this
movement must never practice continuously for any length of time,
for we must avoid fatiguing the organs. When pupils have become
accustomed, by rapidly singing the syllable _koo_ on each tone of
the trill, to the movement of the larynx, then they can practice
upon another syllable, and in the following way: Let the trill be
at first always sung _piano_, with an accenting of the higher
tone every time and a gradual increasing of the rapidity thus:
a¹ accented-b¹ a¹ accented-b¹, and repeat this figure, halving the
note lengths every four beats; also in half and whole tones, and
then in minor thirds. But the most beautiful trill will be formed
by practising triplets in the compass of a whole tone, then of
a minor third, major third, fourth, etc., by which first the
upper, then the lower tone is accented: accented-a¹ g¹ a¹
accented-g¹ a¹ g¹. The mouth, however, in this exercise must
continue immovably open, and the tongue also must lie perfectly
still, touching the lower front teeth, for only in this way can
one be sure of not moving the epiglottis. Although this is
difficult at first, yet the syllable _ku_ (koo) may be sung in
this way. Thus, with sufficient practice, any one may acquire
a perfect flexibility of voice. When the pupils can make the
trill easily upon the middle tones, in which in the beginning
exercises must be practised, let them practice also upon the
higher and lower tones of the voice. If the trill takes place
at the transition of two registers, then both the tones must be
formed upon the higher of the two, as in an exchange of registers
the glottis requires more time than a good trill admits of.

Rapid runs downwards are easily executed correctly when care is
taken that with every tone the same movement is made as in the
case of trills, and the breath is kept back as much as possible.
Voices wanting in flexibility may soon acquire the desired
quality by singing every tone _piano_ upon the syllable _koo_.

Ascending runs can properly be taught only when the descending
have been correctly sung, for, in opposition to the former,
every tone of the latter must be formed by a light impulse
with increased breath. The softer the piano in which the pupil
practises, and the more loose the consequent movement of the
larynx, the more distinctly and the more purely will the pupil
gradually execute these embellishments.

Intelligible as these movements are in practice, it is difficult
to describe them. To be able to make all ornaments in singing
beautifully and easily requires long practice, for in a thoroughly
artistic piece of vocal music it is essential, as the great artist
_Schröder-Devrient_ said, that all the notes of ornamentation
(_Coloratur_) should be like a string of pearls on black velvet,
each distinct in itself, round and beautiful, and yet so connected
with the rest in one whole that no gap is discernible. Carefully
and correctly directed exercises in ornamentation are in the
highest degree necessary to the formation of tone; they tire the
voice far less than sustained notes, and accustom it to an exact
enunciation of the tones. But because persevering practice is
necessary to the cultivation of vocal flexibility, the teaching of
this is to be begun at the very first; and not until later, when
the voice is habituated to a right touch and to a perfectly clear
tone, is the pupil to be given those favorite exercises with
long-sustained notes, which are sung with one continuous breath.
That we so rarely meet with clear vocal fluency is again owing to
our mode of teaching. We do not seek to cultivate formation of
tone and fluency at the same time. Oftentimes it is only after
years spent in singing sustained tones that ornaments are allowed
to be practised, and then, instead of using as little breath as
possible, the flexibility of the larynx is hindered by singing too
powerfully with full chest and unintermitted crowding of the
breath. Without denying that in regard to vocal flexibility
different individuals and nations may be variously gifted, it
is nevertheless certain that _with due practice every one may
acquire more or less of vocal fluency_.

_Frederick Wiek_ has composed for his pupils a large number of
simple exercises, in which all kinds of ornaments are introduced,
and which at the same time are so melodious that they easily catch
the ear. They mostly comprise only a few tones, at the most an
octave, and are sung in half tones, ascending in different keys.
Next to these exercises come, as highly adapted to the culture of
vocal flexibility, the solfeggi of _Mieksch_, _Mazzoni_, _Rossini_,
_Crescentini_, &c. There is, indeed, no want of excellent exercises
and solfeggi. Their use, however, depends upon the way in which the
teacher requires them to be practised. Notwithstanding the abundance
of these exercises, I have always found it necessary to prepare
special ones for my pupils, as every voice requires peculiar
treatment and guidance.[15] In every pupil peculiar faults are to be
overcome and peculiar qualities come into play, and the vocal organ
shows as many differences as the human face. But the right way is
sure to be found when the irreversible laws of nature, which lie
at the foundation of our art, are once recognized. The practical
advantages of this knowledge the singer, like every other artist,
must endeavor to secure orally, that is, by sound instruction.
Ornamentation, however, can become distinct and clear only by
uniting these with a distinct, pure touch, as we have already
endeavored to describe, when, with the beginning of the tone, the
pitch is struck lightly, quickly, distinctly, elastically, with
certainty and perfect correctness. But as it is by no means easy
to introduce a tone quickly and correctly, so that it will sound
equally pure from the first, this flexibility is extremely rare
among our singers. Instead of it, the most hateful mannerisms have
stolen into practice; the tone is struck too low, and forced up by
an increase of breath, or the tones are so drawled one into another
that one cannot tell where they begin or where they cease. Impure
intonation is much more disagreeable in the high tones than in the
low. This is quite natural; for when, for example, the low _c_ is
sung one-tenth too low or too high, then it will cause an octave
higher twice as many vibrations, and two octaves higher four times
as many, and these in proportion to their number produce a more
intense effect. In the higher registers of the tones little discords
(_Verstimmungen_) call forth a much larger number of beats (which
are not to be confounded with vibrations) than in the lower, and
thus the impurity of the musical intervals is felt much more
strongly. Purity in the art of singing is, however, such a primal
condition of its beauty, that a piece of music purely executed, even
by a weak and slightly-cultivated voice, always sounds agreeably,
while the most sonorous and practised voice offends the hearer when
it is out of tune or forced upwards. The training of our singers by
pianos, as they are now tuned, by equal temperament, is altogether
unsatisfactory. The singer who practises with the piano has no safe
principle by which he can measure the height of his tones with any
exactness. But persons of good musical talent, made aware of this
disadvantage by a competent teacher, and practising accordingly, can
nevertheless overcome this difficulty caused by our present method
of tuning, and learn to sing correctly and purely.

Until the seventeenth century, singers were drilled by the
monochord, for which _Zarlino_, in the middle of the sixteenth
century, re-introduced the correct, natural tuning. The drilling
of singers was conducted at that time with a care of which we
have now no idea. The church music of the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries is arranged upon the purest consonant chords, depending
upon this for its whole effect, which would naturally be injured
if not executed with perfect purity. Our opera singers now-a-days
are seldom able to sing without accompaniment a composition for
several voices so purely that its whole beauty is felt; the
accord almost always sounds sharp and somewhat uncertain, and
therefore cannot satisfy a really musical ear.


SPEECH

The vowels and consonants are, in speaking, produced by certain
noises (_Geräusche_), which in singing sound together with the
tone. These sounds are produced by local diminutions of the
cavity of the mouth, or by the opening or closing of the lips
and teeth, as well as by movements of the tip of the tongue,
&c., while a single pulse of the air passes through the
tolerably wide open glottis and through the cavity of the mouth
without regular vibrations. For the air rushes more directly
out of the mouth in speaking than in singing. Of this we may be
easily convinced by holding a feather before the mouth; it will
show far more motion in speaking than in correct singing. If, in
speaking, people would take pains to form the vowels in the
front of the mouth--a habit so necessary in singing, and which
is easily acquired by practice--our common speech would be much
more melodious, far-sounding, and less strained. We see the
truth of this when we hear words called out from a height and
from a distance; the different consonants then mostly disappear,
excepting the _m_ and _n_, which are formed mostly in the front
of the mouth. The vowels, on the other hand, are more or less
plainly heard, according to the places in the mouth where they
are formed. Certain it is that for the beauty of our common
speech, the resonance of the cavity of the mouth peculiar to
each vowel may be rendered available. A singing tone in speaking
is very disagreeable. Every one who is not used to it, finds the
singing dialect of Saxony in the highest degree offensive and
unpleasant. Nevertheless, a more attentive observation soon
teaches us that behind the noise which characterizes the several
sounds in language, a timbre is heard similar to the tone in
singing, and in various instances there occur regular musical
intervals, as at the end of a sentence or in the special
accentuation of single words. Thus, at the conclusion of an
affirmative sentence the voice usually falls about a fourth from
the medium pitch, and at the end of an interrogatory sentence
rises about a fifth above the usual speaking tone. Words
specially accented are usually a tone higher than the rest,
&c. In public speaking and in dramatic representations these
variations of sound are more numerous and complicated, and the
inventor of the modern Recitative, _Jacob Perri_, even declares
that he formed it by imitating in singing these variations of
sound, in order to restore again the declamation of the ancient
tragedians.[16]

Tedious and intolerable as it is to hear so much sing-song in
common speech, it is equally wearisome when people drone on
always in a dry speaking tone at the same pitch, without ever
letting the voice rise or fall. The most interesting matter
thus delivered will lull the hearer to sleep. It cannot be
denied that a rich field is here offered for farther scientific
observation, and those natural laws which lie at the foundation
of the art of singing may certainly be applied with advantage
to the perfecting of the mode of speaking, especially in those
who have to speak in public.[17]

To extend these remarks any farther does not come within our
present purpose, which is concerned exclusively with the
voice in singing and its cultivation. For this reason I leave
unnoticed many most interesting phenomena relating to music
in general, but not particularly to the culture of the voice,
although they are of the deepest interest to the educated
musician.

  [7] Tyndall.

  [8] The concert pitch in different places and at different periods
      has undergone great changes. The Grand Opera in Paris in the
      year 1700 established 404 vibrations to a second as the
      concert pitch of a¹, which gradually rose higher, as the wind
      instruments became more perfect and had a more important part
      assigned them in concerted music, until 1858 it had attained
      the height of 448 vibrations in a second. In this same year
      (1858) at Berlin and St. Petersburg it reached its greatest
      height--451½ vibrations in the second. In Mozart's time, in
      Vienna, it had only 422 and 428 vibrations.

  [9] As long as melody alone was aimed at in music, and was
      accompanied only by octaves, the tones preserved their
      natural purity. But with the rise of harmony (the accord
      of different tones) there was rendered necessary a more
      regular system, to which the purity of the tones was
      sacrificed.

 [10] “It is not possible to sound a stretched string as a whole
      without at the same time causing to a greater or less extent
      its subdivision; that is to say, superposed upon the
      vibrations of the string we have always, in a greater or less
      degree, the vibrations of its aliquot parts. The higher notes
      produced by these latter vibrations are called the _harmonics_
      of the string. And so it is with other sounding bodies; we
      have, in all cases, a co-existence of vibrations. Higher tones
      mingle with the fundamental tone, and it is their intermixture
      which determines what, for want of a better term, we call the
      _quality_ of the sound. The French call it _timbre_, and the
      Germans call it _Klangfarbe_. It is this union of high and low
      tones that enables us to distinguish one musical instrument
      from another. A clarionet and a violin, for example, though
      tuned to the same fundamental note, are not confounded....

      “All bodies and instruments, then, employed for producing
      musical sounds, emit, besides their fundamental tones,
      tones due to higher order of vibrations. The Germans
      embrace all such sounds under the general term _Obertöne_.
      I think it will be an advantage if we, in England, adopt
      the term _over-tones_, as the equivalent of the term
      employed in Germany. One has occasion to envy the power of
      the German language to adapt itself to requirements of this
      nature. The term _Klangfarbe_, for example, employed by
      Helmholtz, is exceedingly expressive, and we need its
      equivalent also. You know that color depends upon rapidity
      of vibrations--that blue light bears to red the same
      relation that a high tone does to a low one. A simple color
      has but one rate of vibration, and it may be regarded as
      the analogue of a simple tone in music. A _tone_, then, may
      be defined as the product of a vibration which cannot be
      decomposed into more simple ones. A compound color, on the
      contrary, is produced by the admixture of two or more
      simple ones; and an assemblage of tones, such, as we obtain
      when the fundamental tone and the harmonics of a string
      sound together, is called by the Germans a _Klang_. May we
      not employ the English word _clang_ to denote the same
      thing, and thus give the term a precise scientific meaning
      akin to its popular one? And may we not, like Helmholtz,
      add the word _color_ or _tint_ to denote the character of
      the clang, using the term _clang-tint_ as the equivalent of
      _Klangfarbe_?” (Sound: A course of Lectures delivered at
      the Royal Institution of Great Britain by John Tyndall,
      LL.D., F.R.S., Professor of Nat. Phil. in the Royal
      Institution and in the Royal School of Mines. English
      edition, pp. 116-118.)--Tr.

 [11] As to the characteristic sounds of the different keys, the
      views of musicians are to the present day divided. Many even
      of our most eminent theorists, as Hauptmann, for example, in
      Leipsig, have maintained that all keys (_Tonarten_) are only
      transpositions of one major and minor key, and that like
      musical effects may be produced with one as well as with
      the other. The majority of musicians are, however, of the
      opinion that each key has its peculiar character, and that
      by transposition into another key the musical effect is
      changed. My son, Carl Seiler, has discovered that each key
      has its own peculiar, prominent over-tones, which determine
      its distinctive character. A table of all the keys (_Tonarten_),
      in which the prominent over-tones of each are given, shows
      also that the mutual relation of the keys (_Tonarten_) is
      elucidated by these over-tones. And thus again scientific
      investigation confirms what the founders of the theory of
      music, with their sound sense for the beautiful, recognized
      as correct.

 [12] The position of the body in singing must be such as in no
      way to interfere with the easy drawing of the breath. One
      sings most easily standing as erect as possible, quiet and
      unconstrained, the chest somewhat projected, the body
      slightly drawn in, and the hands folded.

 [13] It was instruments of this class--trumpets, horns, bugles,
      etc.--in whose timbre the highest inharmonic over-tones
      overpower all the rest, that were painfully offensive to
      the exquisite musical organization of Mozart from his
      earliest childhood.

 [14] It is all but impossible to give an idea of what is meant
      by _Tonansatz_, without a practical illustration. It is
      that striking of the note or the air corresponding to the
      touch in piano-playing.

 [15] A selection of such exercises, prepared by the present
      writer, has recently been published by Mr. O. Ditson in
      Boston, and also two books of old Italian solfeggi from
      Mieksch and Mazzoni, arranged to the present pitch.

 [16] According to _Boethius_, the _lyra_, which was used by the
      Greeks to accompany declamation, embraced, in the tuning
      of its strings, the principal intervals used in speaking.

 [17] Since the appearance of this book I have often been consulted
      by persons whose calling required them to speak in public,
      and whose vocal organs were no longer competent thereto. Here
      also I have found in most cases that there was an incorrect
      use of the registers, and that men especially form the lowest
      sounds with that forced enlarging of the windpipe already
      mentioned (that is, with the so-called _Strohbassregister_).
      Many have probably fallen into this unnatural and exhausting
      manner by attempting to speak or to sing loudly. Together
      with the incorrect use of the registers, there is also an
      incorrect management (_Leitung_) of the vibrating air, which
      so often renders speaking so difficult to public speakers.
      As, when the voice is not wholly directed to the front of the
      mouth, it does not move the external air quickly enough and
      so does not reach far, the speaker commonly tries to help
      himself by a greater expenditure of force. Misled by false
      views, speakers usually attempt by a great waste of breath
      and by exertion alone to produce an effect which can be
      realized only by skilful management of the most delicate
      and easily moved of all things, the air.




IV

THE ÆSTHETIC VIEW

OF THE ART OF SINGING


Having treated, in the two preceding divisions of this book, of
the physiological and physical laws lying at the basis of singing
tones, and of their practical application to the formation of the
voice, we come now to the better known--the æsthetic--part of our
task.

The reader will bear in mind that as, in the preceding sections,
our attention has been confined to what directly relates to the
culture of the voice in singing, notwithstanding the strong
temptation to transcend the limits which our present design
prescribes, so in this section also the same purpose is kept in
view, and it is not to be regarded as treating of the æsthetics
of music in general.

Hitherto we have had to do with fixed, irreversible laws, which are
to be implicitly followed in order to render singing as perfect as
possible. We have seen how the decline of the art of singing had to
follow as a necessary consequence the non-observance of these laws.
In speaking thus far of the agreeable and the disagreeable, of the
beautiful and its opposite, we have had no reference to artistic
feeling. We have been concerned only with direct sensuous pleasure or
pain, not with æsthetic beauty. We have been occupied thus far with
the _technique_ of our art--the form. But with the animating spirit
of this form, the _æsthetic_, we enter upon a broader field, which,
dependent upon purely psychological reasons (_Motiven_), may undergo
a change, either from the general progress of mankind or from the
culture of the practised artist. Thus, although from Aristotle down
to Lessing and our own times the principles of beauty in all the arts
are the same, yet every period, in which art has nourished, has
produced works, various indeed, and corresponding to the spirit of
the age, works, which, however, notwithstanding all differences, have
still conformed to the demands of the principles of beauty. Thus, in
architecture, sculpture, painting, music, &c., there are different
styles of art, every one of which, however, has its justification and
its peculiar beauty. We are not, therefore, to judge these different
styles of art by the taste and ideas (_Auffassung_) of the present,
but by the character of the times that produced them. Although the
mode of thinking may vary in accordance with the different stages of
culture of individuals and mankind, there are, nevertheless, certain
principles of beauty which all nature announces.

By beauty we understand the highest perfection of the single parts
in a perfectly represented whole, and the most intimate union of
the ideal with the material, i.e., of the spiritual with the formal,
which must have as its basis a certain proportion and order in the
position of the several parts as well as in their relation to the
whole work. In the perception of the beautiful, everything must
tend to awaken the feeling of repose and pleasure; and the more
susceptible we are of the impression of the beautiful, the more
shall we be disturbed by defects, even the least, in any work of
art. The pleasure which we take in any work of art, which, however
faultless in certain respects, shows any glaring defect, is greatly
abridged. The ugly spot will absorb our attention and destroy the
pure enjoyment of its beauty, and still more disagreeable will be
the effect if the different _parts_, otherwise beautifully shaped,
are thrown out of their due symmetry and proportion. In the
successive arts, as music, the dramatic art, &c., proportion
(_Maassvolle_) is an essential condition of beauty, more than in
the simultaneous arts; and an artist whose _technique_ is altogether
perfect, and who can succeed in reproducing every emotion of the
mind in his work, is a true artist only when he never transgresses
by an excess of passion the fine boundary lines of beauty.

It is given to only a very few to recognize at once the high
and beautiful in art. In most the sense of the beautiful awakens
only with a riper spiritual development. It is thus the fruit
of a higher stage of culture. To children and persons wholly
uneducated a brightly painted picture-book is more beautiful
than the Dresden Madonna, that great masterpiece of painting.
And most people take greater pleasure in a waltz by _Strauss_
or _Lanner_ than in a symphony by Beethoven or Mozart. Beauty
depends upon principles, i.e., rules and laws, which are founded
in the nature of the human reason. The appreciation, therefore,
of beauty accompanies the development in man of his reason.

Music, above all the other arts, finds the earliest and most
universal recognition, and almost every one listens to it with
pleasure. Helmholtz says that music is much more intimately
related to our sensations than all the other arts put together.
Tones touch the ear and are instantly felt to be agreeable or
disagreeable, while the impressions of painting, poetry, &c.,
upon our senses must be brought to our consciousness, and be
judged of there by comparison. But it is not only through the
direct effect of tones, as it appears to me, but more through the
life (_Belebung_) which animates it, that music comes so close to
us, and is so natural and near of kin to us. That must needs be
the most interior of the arts whose office it is to express the
various moods of the human soul in their tenderest and most
secret fluctuations. The incorporeal material of tone is far
better fitted to express these different moods (_Stimmungen_)
than it is possible for poetry to do. Peculiar, definite feelings
it cannot, indeed, distinctly denote without the help of poetry.
But it is this very indefiniteness that enables music so to
insinuate itself into the soul of the hearer that the tones heard
seem to be the expression of his own feelings, and not those of
another. Hence it is that music, in its whole nature, acts
beneficently and soothingly, because its ruling principle is
always a striving after repose, after a rest in _consonances_,
just as this is the innermost aim and struggle of our own life.
In the other arts this is much less the case. Aristotle, in his
twenty-seventh and twenty-ninth problems, distinguishes the
influences of music as the expression of tones of feeling
(_Stimmungen_), and not of definite feelings. And _Brendel_,
who, in his history of music, holds to the order among the arts
received by the Greeks, by which architecture takes the lowest
place, then sculpture, painting, music, and, lastly, as the
highest of the arts, poetry, remarks, that “Music, by virtue of
its power to express the most delicate shades of sentiment, would
certainly take the highest rank were it more definite.” It has
always been attempted to extend the boundaries of music by
calling in the assistance of painting and poetry. Haydn, Mozart,
Schubert, etc., have imitated in their compositions the singing
of birds, the rippling of water, storms, &c. And now our modern
musicians of the future endeavor to express in tones definite
thoughts and feelings, imagining that here a new epoch in art
is to open. But these new compositions always require elaborate
explanations. Music until now, at least, has not yet given up
its ethereal, indefinite character.[18]

It is essential to the full effect of a work of art that the
artist should create it, and the hearer or beholder should enjoy
it, without thinking of the rules and laws of beauty. A work of
art must act immediately upon the feelings; it must appear to be
spontaneous, and must be felt without reference to any aim or
plan. What is æsthetically beautiful pleases a cultivated taste
at once without any reflex consideration. But when, by the help
of the understanding, we seek to account for the harmony and
perfection of the several parts, and find by more searching
study that the work is in conformity to the laws of reason,
our enjoyment will naturally be enhanced. But this study must
always come as a consequence of the first effect upon the soul,
otherwise all effect is wanting. The _unconscious_ enjoyment of
the legitimate in art is the first condition of the influence of
the beautiful upon the soul. The happy, elevated feeling which
all works of art immediately awaken in us is thus only an
unconscious recognition of the reasonable, the harmonious,
the symmetrical. But this unconscious impression is instantly
disturbed by any, the least imperfection, before we perceive
where and in what it consists, for the human mind is not able
fully and at once to examine a production of art in its entirety
to its minutest parts.

An artist must, therefore, be esteemed according as his works
excite and ravish the hearers or beholders without their knowing
why, and he stands all the higher the simpler and the more
naturally--i.e., the more _unconsciously_--this takes place.

In order to reach such a height, and to be able to act upon the
souls of men with an elevating and informing power, it is first
of all necessary that an artist should cultivate the form, or the
_technique_, of his art to its greatest possible perfection, and
have such perfect command of it, that the practical application
of it is as natural to him as to breathe. _For empty and dead as
all technical knowledge is unless it is animated with a soul, yet
no product of art æsthetically beautiful is possible without
a perfect technique._

       *       *       *       *       *

But the culture of the _technique_ in the art of singing requires
a special faculty in the teacher, and, together with the finest
power of observation, an ear, which not only perceives the purity
of the tone, whether high or low, but feels also the direction of
the aerial column, the too much or too little of the breath, the
coloring of the timbre, &c. An æsthetically artistic education
demands likewise that the singer should have the highest general
culture. As soon as the technical education has advanced so far
that it no longer makes any demand upon the attention of the
learner, the infusion of life and soul into the singing must be
begun. The teacher must then be so filled with the spirit of his
art that he shall be able so to inspire his pupils that, forgetting
themselves, they may be absorbed in the high ideal work of their
art, and regard their well-trained voices simply as expressing the
noblest and most varied sentiments (_Stimmungen_). And on this
account a teacher should seek to act upon the souls of his pupils,
and awaken in them above all things a feeling for the high and the
noble, that they may be able to find the correct mode of expressing
it in singing. It is a very hard but not impossible work to educate
true artists, who, penetrated with faith in the high worth of their
art, shall fulfil its aim by exercising a refreshing and elevating
influence upon their fellow-men. But, in order to be able to form
true artists, a teacher must be devoted without intermission to his
own culture, scientific and general; must strive with pleasure, and
love, and inspiration to accomplish the high work of his calling,
and make the severest demands upon himself, before he can expect
anything great of his pupils.

Having spoken of those parts of the _technique_ of the art of
singing which rest upon impregnable natural laws, such as the
registers of the voice, the formation of tones in regard to
strength, pitch, and timbre, &c., let us consider more closely
those other parts of the _technique_ which rest upon psychological,
i.e., æsthetic principles (_Motiven_). To these belong _Rhythm_,
_Correct understanding of the Tempo_, _Composition_, _Execution,
that is, the delivery of the sentiment of the composition, and
the aids thereto_.


RHYTHM

To the principles of beauty belong, above all things, order and
regularity. In music this order consists in measures of time. All
measurement by time, even the scientific, depends upon rhythmic,
regularly returning results, as in the revolutions of the earth,
of the moon, and in the vibrations of the pendulum, &c. Thus, by
the regular interchange of accented and unaccented sounds in
music and poetry, we obtain the rhythm of the work.

But while in poetry the structure of verse serves only to
reduce to artistic order the external accidents of expression
by language, rhythm is not only the external measure of time in
music, but it belongs to the innermost nature of its power of
expression, giving to music its distinctive character. There
is, therefore, a finer and much more various culture of rhythm
necessary in music than in poetry. Here rhythm determines not
only the time, how long a note is to be maintained, and how
many notes fall within a certain space of time, but it also
distinguishes those notes which are to be sung with more or
less emphasis.

We know that in a bar of 2/4 time the first beat must be more
accented than the second; in a bar of 4/4 time the rhythmical
accent falls upon the first and third beats; in a bar of 3/4 and
3/8 time only upon the first; and in 6/8 upon the first and
fourth. This rhythmical accentuation must become a second nature
to the learner before he can express any particular sentiment in
a piece of music, and therefore he must be early practised in it.
Rhythmical accentuation can always be employed very differently
according to the character (_Stimmung_) of a composition, and the
most different effects in expression are thus produced. One can,
by a greater or less degree of strength, or by a sudden impulse
of the breath, change the accent, as well as by a slight
retardation of the note. Also, by transferring the accent to
those notes naturally not accented, that is, in the 2/4 time to
the second beat, or to the second half of the first, by so-called
_syncopes_, the whole character of a piece is changed. In musical
passages in which many notes come upon one beat and the character
of which is light and pleasing, a peculiar charm is produced when
several rhythmical accents are made upon the same beat, and
likewise in slow passages the swelling of the tone upon the
accented note is very pleasing. Let the same phrase in a song
be sung with different rhythmical accents, and we may easily
see how such changes will give the passage quite another character.

The old Italian singers understood to a remarkable degree the
use of rhythm in the execution of vocal music. But the poetical
rhythm of the words accompanying the voice gives to the singer
a guide, reference to which shows him at least how and where
he may employ the nicer shades of musical rhythm.


CORRECT UNDERSTANDING OF THE TEMPO

To give the pupil the feeling for the correct tempo of a
composition is more difficult than to teach him to understand
rhythm. Our best musicians, whose merits deserve the fullest
acknowledgment, often fail here, making the tempo of a piece of
music either too slow or too quick, and so weakening its whole
effect. This happens especially with the old compositions which
preceded the introduction of the metronome. The old Italian
vocal compositions are in this respect treated the worst by our
musicians, who belong to the strictly classical school. The
character of these pieces is prevailingly sentimental, and the
_tempi_ were not so quick then as now. If a piece thus composed
in slow time is set, without reference to its sentiment, to the
quickest possible tempo, it becomes ordinary and vulgar in
character; the most beautiful adagio may in this way be degraded
to a street-ballad. The songs of our modern composers have to be
sung to a quicker tempo than that to which they are set, or they
are tedious and wearisome. This is particularly the case with
the compositions of Schubert, and the whole effect of his
beautiful songs is often ruined by a degree more or less too
rapid. Singing too slowly, or in false tempo, is now-a-days
a very prevalent fault. And yet the singer has in the words
a surer guide than is granted to the instrumental performer.
Therefore, by well considering these and getting them by heart
without the music, as if they were the outpouring of his own
feelings, he will be most likely to strike the correct tempo in
singing them. In this way many of our recent favorite songs gain
a somewhat fresher tempo than that at which they are usually
sung. The choice of the time, being dependent upon the taste
of the artist, requires special attention and study.

Although the tempo is usually indicated by some designation, as,
for example, allegro, adagio, &c., yet the allegro or adagio may
be given with different degrees of quickness, and the designations
still be perfectly correct. We have no precise designations for
the nicer degrees of tempo, and yet a very slight degree has an
influence upon the character of the piece. The metronome, by which
in instrumental music the tempo is defined, is only occasionally
used as a guide in vocal compositions, because the singer may be
guided by the words and by the sentiment which the words indicate.

The _tempi_ must be ascertained by a knowledge of the composers,
and by reference to the periods in which their compositions
first appeared. It would be an error to play an andante by
_Bach_ or _Haydn_ like one of _Chopin's_ or _Hiller's_, or sing
the allegro of an aria by _Pergolese_ or _Caraffa_ as quickly as
the allegro of one of _Meyerbeer's_ arias. But whether a piece
of music be light and ornamental in character, or heavy and
labored, weak or powerful, quiet or passionate, depends on
rhythm and tempo.


COMPOSITION

Classic art sought as the only aim in its works to represent
pure beauty. In the compositions of the old masters regard
was had only to the sweetness of melody, and everything was
excluded from them that did not fall agreeably upon the ear.
But in modern music what is even unfavorable to sensuous
pleasure is accepted, and we have accustomed ourselves to
a more vigorous and powerful mode of representation, the
aim being to excite by sudden contrasts.

In so far as music is to represent the most secret life of the
soul, and as in art everything natural, so far as it admits of
being idealized and represented, is allowable, this tendency of
art in music has its justification. But here, as in everything
in which the principles of beauty are concerned, the true limit
must not be overstepped. The old masters composed only in
consonances, and _Helmholtz_ has shown scientifically that
consonances alone have an independent right to existence.
Dissonances, according to _Helmholtz_, are only permissible
as transition points for consonants, having no right of their
own to be. Down to _Beethoven_ we find dissonances correctly
employed by all the old masters. And greater and nobler effects
were attained than are possible to our modern musicians with
their accumulation of dissonances and sudden contrasts.

With the two composers in whom our modern classic epoch reached
its zenith, begins the gradual decline of the art of singing.
_Mozart_ held it necessary to his musical education to study
in Italy the vocal compositions of the old masters, and to make
himself thoroughly acquainted with the qualities of the singing
voice. Hence the vocal compositions of Mozart will remain
beautiful and to be held up as models for all time, for they
unite the sweetest and loveliest melody with an appreciation
of sentiment the noblest and most ideal.

The giant genius of _Beethoven_, inspired and artistic, found
the material developed to perfection by his predecessors, and
with overpowering strength forced it to yield itself to his
service. His masterworks of composition, in the grandeur of
their style, excel everything that had been produced before
him. But he has treated the human voice as a subordinate
instrument.

Because all that _Beethoven_ produced was grand and beautiful,
he has been blindly imitated, and it has been wholly forgotten
that music has in all times drawn its best nourishment from
song, and only by means of song has it risen to its high
estate, and that instruments can never reach what is possible
to a thoroughly educated human voice.

A musician, exclusively devoted to the piano, never dreams of
writing a concert piece for the violin, because he knows that
he is not sufficiently acquainted with the peculiarities of
that instrument; but every musician imagines himself able to
compose for the human voice, although its peculiar qualities
are far more numerous and far more difficult to be rightly
dealt with.

The strictly classical musicians of the present reject all
Italian music as bad. The objection made to it is, that the
music is never adapted to the words, but often expresses
something wholly different and sometimes directly opposite to
their meaning, and that it never gives back to us any high,
poetic sentiment, but aims to bribe us with ornaments only,
and accidents. In regard to modern Italian music this judgment
may be just. These superficial compositions are a product of
Italian music in its decline, and can force for themselves
a certain popularity only by their pleasant and easy melodies.
Even the old Italian music seems at first sight to pay little
or no regard to the sense of the words, especially when the
time, according to the classic German method, is set too
quick. Upon closer study, however, we soon perceive that,
although the music is treated as the chief thing, the meaning
of the words is certainly given when the music is rightly
performed. Were it not so, our music would hardly ever have
been able to form and develop itself upon and through these
old vocal compositions.

As the pictures of Titian, Rubens, and other great painters of that
time, who were masters of form as well as of color, will always be
considered as works of art and models, so the compositions of the
old Italian singing masters and of those who went from their schools
are to be held up as examples for vocal composition. In their works,
as in all the works of art of that time, form takes precedence of
the spirit, that is, the words and their poetic significance are
treated as secondary matters. But all the peculiar properties of the
human voice find therein due consideration; everything at variance
with them is avoided, and every interval, every vowel, is so
introduced that the voice can flow out with the greatest perfection.
These ornamented compositions can be sung more easily and with less
effort than a simple aria of a modern composer.

The fine tact and the correct feeling with which in those old
vocal compositions what nature directs was observed, show that
they are the works of singers of the golden age of the art of
singing, of artists who with an exact knowledge of the beauties
and capabilities of the voice possessed, and in those days were
compelled to possess, the most thorough culture in the theory
of music.

In opposition to this old, classic Italian style of composing
song, which considered and treated music for its own sake alone,
and regarded the words only in so far as they aided the voice
and the expression of the music, stands the classic style of
Germany. In this latter the first attention is paid to the
poetic meaning and expression of the text. Rightly to apprehend
the sense of the words and to give it, by means of the music,
a deeper, nobler expression--to transfigure it, as it were--is,
according to this style, the purpose of the composer, who
commonly has only the slightest reference to the peculiar
qualities of the voice and the fitness of the composition to
be sung. In the classic Italian style the form predominates--in
the German, the inspiration or soul of the composition. In the
Italian the music and the singing capability of the composition
are attended to almost exclusively. In the German, the main
thing is the poetical expression of the signification of the
words. When we now sing the wonderful and exquisite compositions
of _Schubert_, _Schumann_, _Mendelssohn_, etc., we soon feel the
impossibility of giving one or another tone as beautifully as it
should be given according to the quality of the voice, and as we
are able to give it by itself. Or it is hard for us to strike
this or that tone with perfect purity or with the requisite
force, &c. These songs are _not_ adapted to the voice as the old
Italian arias were, but composed without accurate knowledge of
the voice, and therefore cannot develop the voice in its highest
perfection. _Mendelssohn_ often lays the strongest expression
in his soprano songs upon the f♯², the transition tone from the
falsetto register to the head voice. For the expression of the
highest passion, which requires strength, the head voice is not
adapted, at least not in its transition tone. Accordingly, it is
usually sought to sound this tone with the falsetto register, to
which it is not natural, and is therefore hard to be sung, and
also becomes sharp and offensive in the male voice especially,
where this note is formed just upon the transition from the
second chest register into the falsetto. _Schubert_, again, in
his songs commonly so places the words that the favorable vowels
seldom come upon the right tones. _Schumann_ also very often
uses intervals which come upon the boundary tones of the
register, and can hardly be struck with purity. Thus there
are very many hindrances to a fine development of the voice,
oftentimes in the most beautiful compositions of our times,
hindrances, which many of our composers are more or less
chargeable with putting in the way.

It is evident from what has been said that it is by no means
a matter of indifference how the words of a song are translated
into another language. Compositions easily sung naturally lose
by translation, for it is generally left entirely to chance
whether the appropriate vowels fall upon the right tones.
A teacher must take great care, especially in beginning
instruction, to give his pupils compositions adapted to
singing. All the exercises and solfeggi should be expressly
arranged for the purpose, and also so arranged that the pupil
shall have steadily increasing difficulties to encounter, in
order that the vocal _technique_ may be fully illustrated.
Along with these exercises and solfeggi, arias should be
practised, particularly at the beginning. The older Italian
compositions are the best adapted to vocal culture, because
they were made with special reference to the qualities of the
voice. Arias are preferable to songs, because they usually
require more flexibility of voice, and therefore assist the
_technique_. In arias the music is more prominent than in
ballads, and the sentiment more marked and consequently more
easily apprehended. The same words are commonly more often
repeated, and must, of course, be sung differently, and thus
the pupil is brought acquainted at once with the different
external aids to a fine execution.


EXTERNAL AIDS TO A FINE EXECUTION

A teacher must see to it at first with the utmost attention that
all the tones according to their pitch are struck with purity,
and this can be done only by his repeating them over and over
again to his pupil, because, as we have already remarked, our
pianos, according to the present method of tuning, are never
sufficiently pure to form a singing tone. When the learner
has once become familiarized to the fine sound of pure tones,
he will hear and distinguish them, and learn to strike them
correctly with our pianos. How important to a fine timbre of
the tones the right direction of the breath is and its control,
as well as the best mode of securing these points, we have already
described at some length. The old Italian masters had established
distinct rules by which the breath was to be renewed.

These were:

1. Before the beginning of a phrase.

2. Before trills and passages (_fiorituri_).

3. After tied notes.

4. Before syncopes, and especially accented notes.

5. Between two notes of the same pitch and the same value,
in slow phrases.

6. After a short (_staccato_) note.

7. At all pauses and resting-points.

8. Before a note, which, by being accented, was to be especially
distinguished in the middle of musical passages, usually before
the highest note of a musical phrase, in order to give the music
a light, graceful character.

In light, airy pieces of music, this last mode of taking breath
had a charming effect, but was mostly left to the taste of the
singer. The earlier singers, moreover, were very skilful in
finding those places where, according to the character of the
composition, an unusual taking of breath was of special effect.
On the other hand, it was considered an advantage in a singer
to take breath as rarely as possible, and, as we have intimated
in the introduction of this book, it was esteemed a great
accomplishment to sing long with one inhalation.

In the old Italian music, by which the vocal _technique_ is
best illustrated, these rules must be observed. In German
music the breathing is governed by æsthetic principles, and
is regulated by the words of the song. Accordingly, breath
can be taken only at the beginning or end of a sentence,
conformably to the punctuation. But if the sentences are too
long, then the breath is to be taken at some fitting place in
the middle of the sentence, so that a word must not be broken
by the breath, nor the article or adjective separated from
the subject.

An Italian aria, in which the attention is given chiefly to
the music and its externals, is executed far more easily and
beautifully than a German aria or a German song. Our German
ballads, full of deep sentiment and in which the music should
give a higher and richer expression to the poetic significance
of the words, require in their execution such sterling spiritual
culture as only the most extraordinary talent can supply the
place of. In the execution of these songs it is, above all
things, necessary that the words should be distinctly heard.
It easily happens in singing that the noise (_Geräusch_) of
the consonants partly from the stronger sound of the tones is
entirely covered, and so words are indistinctly heard. The sound
of the consonants must, therefore, be given more prominently in
singing than in common speech, so that they may be heard along
with the tones. It is a good practice to repeat the words,
exaggerating the articulation. Thus, by persevering attention,
a distinct articulation in singing may be attained without
difficulty. Recitative offers an excellent practice for this
purpose, the music here being subordinate to the words,
according to the intervals of which the composition is for
the most part constructed. Although our recitative is formed
after the declamation of the Greeks, yet it is not to be sung
like this, with pathos, but according to our modern taste, as
naturally as possible, just as in a like situation the words
would be spoken.[19]

To the external aids to expression belongs the swelling of the
tones, one of the easiest, most natural, and most graceful of all
our helps. It consists in giving a tone, whose time permits it,
different degrees of strength. In a contrary way much time is
usually spent in singing the scales, beginning _piano_ and
increasing in strength to the greatest possible _forte_, and
then letting the voice grow weaker and weaker. Instead of these
exercises, which require exertion, the same thing can be attained
far more easily by swelling the tones where it is required in the
composition. In melancholy or mournful compositions, swelling
upon those tones which the rhythm requires to be accented is
very beautiful. But when exaggerated, or where a fresh, cheerful
character is to be preserved in the composition, this aid to
expression easily renders the effect sentimental. Unhappily,
our whole music is vitiated by this sickly sentimentalism, the
perfect horror of every person of cultivated taste. In these
later years the powerful reaction of German æsthetics has had
favorable results in regard to instrumental music, but in the
execution of vocal music this unhealthy fashion of singing still
always commands great applause. This sickly sentimental style has
also naturalized in singing a gross trick unfortunately very
prevalent, the _tremolo_ of the notes. When, in rare cases, the
greatest passion is to be expressed, to endeavor to deepen the
expression by a trembling of the notes is all very well and fully
to be justified, but in songs and arias, in which quiet and
elevated sentiments are to be expressed, to tremble as if the
whole soul were in an uproar, and not at all in a condition for
quiet singing, is unnatural and offensive.

A very beautiful aid to expression, but now only seldom heard,
is the transition from one register to another on the same
note. A note begins with tolerable strength, for example, _d_,
with the action belonging to it of the chest register, and
while it grows weaker it passes imperceptibly into the action
of the falsetto tones. Or the reverse. A note of the chest
register is begun with the action of the falsetto, and becoming
stronger changes into the chest register to which it naturally
belongs. Correctly employed, the most delightful effects may be
produced in this way, especially by a male voice.

Ornaments, such as _appoggiaturas_ and _turns_, _roulades_,
_trills_, &c., are to be used only with taste and care. The
old Italian compositions, which were so arranged as to show
the voice in its fullest brilliancy, have their ornaments
commonly in such phrases as were to be first sung several
times in a simpler way. In the frequent repetition of the same
melody and words, those places were designated by so-called
_firmates_, where it was permitted to the artist to introduce
embellishments according to his own taste. In German arias
embellishments are allowed to be introduced according to the
taste of the singer, only, however, with the greatest care;
but in German ballads not at all. And yet we often hear
artists, who have acquired a certain flexibility of voice,
introducing their little trickeries in the most inappropriate
places.

But none of these aids to expression are to be used so often as
to become mere mannerisms. Only when employed in due measure can
they have an æsthetically fine effect. As so much depends upon
the taste of the singer, it is necessary that he should, above
all things, have a thorough appreciation of the sentiment which
is to find expression in the piece, and seek to make it his own,
and then the ornament is to be introduced only where it accords
with the sentiment, that is, where it is appropriate. The two
greatest artists of the present day, Lind and Stockhausen,
whose expression is perfect, take great pains to understand
the composition thoroughly, and in this way to be fully imbued
with the sentiment.

Without the animation of a soul, singing fails of all effect upon
the hearer, and is ordinary and wearisome. But this animation
must be with understanding and taste--i.e., æsthetically beautiful.
For the beautiful continues beautiful and true only as long
as it is in proportion and not exaggerated--only while those
fine lines are not transgressed where it begins to be untrue,
that is, affected and ridiculous.


TIME OF INSTRUCTION

The old Italians began with quite young pupils, commonly when they
were in their ninth or tenth year. The great demands which were
then made in regard to the technical culture of the voice required
a long time for instruction, usually five or six years. The
extraordinary fulness and power of tone possessed by the earlier
artists could be acquired only by persevering and adequate practice
of the vocal organ, taken while in the process of growth. Those
singers, men and women, whose voices have been celebrated for their
fulness and strength of tone, such as _Catalani_, _Perini_, &c.,
sang in their fifth year, under the careful oversight of persons
musically cultivated. In childhood the impulse to imitation is
strongest, the vocal organs are more tender and pliant than in
adults; and hence, when care is taken to avoid fatiguing and
straining the voice, children learn much easier and better than
grown persons. They are also preserved by early and correct singing
from the many bad habits with which the teacher has to contend in
adults. That special skill and care are required in a teacher who
has in charge the voices of children, there can be no question. But
unhappily, no regard is paid to this consideration in the system of
teaching singing in the schools, universally introduced in France,
Germany, and Switzerland. To any teacher who can sing at all,
or play on any instrument, the tender voices of children are
entrusted, and he allows them to sing together in chorus, satisfied
if the tones are not grossly false and the time is kept, paying no
regard to the formation of the voice. Now it is well known that
even practised singers avoid singing much in chorus, considering it
injurious to the voice. Although schooled and educated voices can
endure a much greater strain than children's voices, yet children
are often, without any understanding, required to sing loud, in
order “to bring out the voice.” In such a way of singing it is
simply impossible that every separate voice should be attended to,
even were the teacher competent to attend to it; while it often
happens that at the most critical age, while the vocal organs are
being developed, children sing with all the strength they can
command. Boys, however, in whom the larynx at a certain period
undergoes an entire transformation, reach only with difficulty the
higher soprano or contralto tones, but are not assigned a lower
part until, perceiving themselves the impossibility of singing
in this way, they beg the teacher for the change, often too late,
unhappily, to prevent an irreparable injury. Moderate singing,
without exertion, and, above all things, within the natural limits
of the voice and its registers, would even during the period of
growth be as little hurtful as speaking, laughing, or any other
of the exercises which cannot be forbidden to the vocal organs.
But it is wiser not to allow boys to sing at all while the larynx
is undergoing its change.

The plan of introducing into schools instruction in singing, so
excellent in itself theoretically, tends, by the way in which
it is carried out in practice, to lessen the number of voices
susceptible of artistic culture, without any compensation in an
awakened feeling and understanding of music. In the palmy days
of the art of singing there was no instruction given in singing
in the schools, but there were instead numerous schools for
singing, where children were trained into artists by the most
skilful teachers, and whence proceeded good singers, male and
female, in great numbers.

The numerous vocal music Unions and _Männerchöre_, as such,
contribute as little as school singing to the elevation and
improvement of the vocal art, the sole object of which is to
cultivate the individual voice for artistic singing. Considered
as a means of moral culture, the rise and increasing prevalence
of chorus singing among all orders of the people merit commendation
and aid, but not in the interest of the art of song.

Apart from this school instruction, now becoming so popular,
people commonly venture to entrust their sons and daughters,
but not until they are quite grown, to a singing master to be
educated. But then it is expected that he shall, in the shortest
time possible, often in the space of a few months, advance them
so far that they shall be able to sing with applause before
company.

Such is the case in Germany, and in a much higher degree in
America, while in the various conservatories of Europe there is
now required a period of from four to seven years for education
in the art of singing. In the Conservatory of Milan, which is
now held to be the best school for our art, pupils are admitted
only upon the condition that they will remain seven years.

Thus, while every instrument, if anything is to be made out
of it, demands years of practice, to the human voice alone is
time denied, simply because, I suppose, almost every one has
a somewhat natural aptitude for singing.

The greatest fault, however, is to be found in the present mode of
teaching singing, which is so superficial that people have become
accustomed to overlook the possibility of changing a voice and
rendering it beautiful. For the most part instruction begins where
and with what it should end; the aim is, paying only passing
attention to the timbre and the formation of tone (_Tonbildung_),
to teach the pupil to sing certain favorite pieces with the due
execution, and to see that the breath is taken at the right places
and that the tone is not too impure. But the human voice is
susceptible of much higher culture than any instrument. And it
requires more gifts and far more study to become a true and
distinguished artist in singing than are necessary to the mastery
of other instruments. It would most assuredly contribute to the
advancement and elevation of the vocal art, if gifted children,
as it often happened in former times, were early instructed in
singing with the requisite care and skill. Thus, educated for
their art, and giving to it their best powers, they would be able
to satisfy far higher demands and attain to quite another and
higher artistic perfection than we are wont now-a-days to find
anywhere among our vocal artists. Such children would then, at
the age at which at present instruction in singing begins, have
already mastered all technical difficulties and be able to apply
themselves chiefly to the æsthetic cultivation of their art. With
young girls especially, whose vocal organs do not change so much
as those of boys, the earliest possible beginning of instruction
would be in the highest degree advantageous. It is owing only to
the unnatural, overstrained method of studying the art of singing
now prevalent that a principle recognized and applied in the
learning of all other arts, and even in all the other branches
of music, has universal prejudice against it.


CONCLUSION

An artist can be formed only by his own intelligence and
practice, under the direct guidance of a master. But here,
more than in any other art, the constant watchfulness of
a teacher is a necessity. For, as one gets only an imperfect
idea of his own personal appearance from a mirror, so the
singer and dramatic artist can form but a partial judgment of
his own performances. They are too subjective, and cannot be
viewed as an external whole, like the works of the painter
and sculptor. It is, moreover, as has already been remarked,
simply impossible to obtain even a partial knowledge of any
art from books alone, even if we were able to describe with
precision the fine, delicate differences of tones, colors
and forms.

These pages, therefore, make no claim whatever to be regarded
as a manual of singing. They aim only to communicate and extend
a knowledge of the latest discoveries and advances in the domain
of vocal art, and to protest against and correct prevailing
prejudices and errors in regard to this art, as well as to
engage the attention of those to whose care the culture of
the voice is entrusted.

 [18] The friends of this style of music (programme music so
      called) appeal to the authority of Beethoven, who, it is
      claimed, opened the way for it when he introduced into his
      Pastoral Symphony interlineations which should suggest the
      right sentiment to the hearer. But, although Beethoven
      allowed himself to approach the uttermost limits in this
      direction, he never overstepped them. It was only in his
      Pastoral Symphony that he introduced these interlineations,
      and they do not entirely contradict the peculiar character
      of the music, as so many of our modern programmes do.


        PROGRAMME

        To Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony, December 22, 1808.

           I. Agreeable sensations upon visiting the country.

          II. Scene at a brook's side.

         III. Merry gathering of country people.

          IV. Thunder and storm.

           V. Happy and grateful emotions after the storm.
              More emotional than descriptive.
              Expression rather than representation of feeling.


        PROGRAMME

        To a Prize Symphony, by Joachim Raff, performed in
        Vienna, 1863.

           I. D major. Allegro.
              Portrait of the German character,--its capability of
              elevation, proneness to Reflection, Gentleness and
              Valor, as contrasts that blend with and permeate one
              another in manifold ways--overpowering proneness to
              meditation.

          II. D minor. Allegro molto vivace.
              In the open air, in the German grove, with the sound of
              horns, Away to the fields, with the songs of the people.

         III. D major. Larghetto.
              Gathering round the domestic hearth, transfigured
              by love and the Muses.

          IV. G minor. Allegro-dramatico.
              Ineffectual struggle to establish the unity of the
              fatherland.

           V. D minor. Lament. D major. Allegro trionfale.
              Opening of a new and elevated era.

 [19] Although our recitative is formed after the recitative
      of the ancient drama, yet the latter, according to all
      accounts, appears to have been very different from our
      opera recitative, and to have had greater resemblance
      to the monotonous recitation of the Romish Liturgy,
      which seems to be a relic of ancient art.




APPENDIX




STRUCTURE OF THE VOCAL ORGANS


The larynx is a sound-giving organ belonging to that class of
wind instruments called reed instruments, although it differs in
various respects from all artificial arrangements of the kind.
The sound or tone-generating apparatus of the larynx consists of
tense, elastic _membranes_, the so-called _chordæ vocales_, which
are enclosed in a sounding case composed of movable cartilaginous
plates, and may be stretched by a certain apparatus of muscles in
very different and exactly measurable degrees. They are made to
vibrate audibly by a current of air impelled with various degrees
of force and at will by the lungs in expiration through the
narrow chink (glottis) formed by the fine edges of the chords.
Thus the lungs correspond to the bellows of the organ; the
trachea, at the top of which the vocal instrument is placed,
answers to the conduit (_Windrohr_), and the cavity of the throat
in front of the instrument with its two avenues, the mouth and
the nostrils, to the resonance pipe (_Ansatzrohr_).


THE LUNGS

The lungs are two cellular, sponge-like elastic organs, largely
made up of little cavities of conical shape, which, in the
regular alternations of two opposite respiratory movements of
air, are at one time expanded, and then again compressed. The
two lungs are not of equal size; the right lung is one-tenth
larger in volume than the left.


THE TRACHEA, OR WINDPIPE,

Through which the air of the lungs enters and passes out,
consists of from sixteen to twenty-six cartilaginous rings,
posteriorly incomplete, lying horizontally one above the
other.

These rings are connected by a membrane covering them externally
and internally. As they enter the cavity of the chest, they divide
into two branches, likewise composed of rings, one entering the
right, the other the left lung. Before they join the lungs they
divide again into several smaller branches, which again subdivide
fork-like in the lungs, and terminate in numberless little
grape-like clusters of hollow vesicles. The diameter of the
trachea in adults is from one-half to three-fourths of an
inch when at rest.


THE LARYNX

The larynx may be regarded as the funnel-shaped termination
of the trachea. It enlarges upward and is composed of various
cartilages more or less mobile, connected by ligaments and
moved by muscles. The exterior of the larynx is formed by the

     I. Thyroid cartilage.
    II. Cricoid cartilage.

The cartilages in the interior are:

     I. The Arytenoid cartilages.
    II. Cartilages of Wrisberg.
   III. Cartilages of Santorini.
    IV. Cuneiform cartilages.

To the cartilages of the larynx must be further added the
Epiglottis, with the little cartilage at the centre of its
inner side.

1. The _thyroid cartilage_ is the largest cartilage of the larynx,
and consists of two four-cornered cartilaginous plates held together
in front and diverging behind; the anterior borders are convex, and
consequently where the two plates meet in front they form an upper
and a lower notch or slit. The posterior angles of this cartilage
extend into the so-called horns of the _thyroid cartilage_. At
the upper horns are ligaments attached, which form the connection
between the hyoid bone and the larynx, while the lower horns serve
to join the thyroid to the cricoid cartilage. In females and boys
the angle formed by the two plates of the _thyroid cartilage_ is
obtuse. In the male sex at a certain period the larynx changes
its shape, and the plates of the _thyroid cartilage_ then form an
acute angle, which is visible on the outside of the throat, and is
popularly known as the _Adam's apple_. At this time the diameter
of the male larynx becomes a third larger than that of the female
larynx, and in consequence the voice is lower, and its different
registers are more enlarged in compass.

2. The _cricoid cartilage_ resembles in shape a seal ring;
its broader side is situated posteriorly between the lower
horns of the _thyroid cartilage_, and it is connected by its
lower edges immediately with the upper edge of the first ring
of the trachea. From its side at the back part project two
rounded surfaces, which give attachment to the _arytenoid
cartilages_.

3. The _arytenoid cartilages_ are two small but very mobile bodies
in the form of three-cornered pyramids. The base of the pyramid
rests upon the before-mentioned rounded surface at the back of the
upper border of the _cricoid cartilage_; one of its sides turns to
the front, the two others to the back and outwards. The surfaces
between the anterior and postero-interior corners are accordingly
turned towards one another. The surface posteriorly is concave,
and affords space for a part of the _arytenoid muscle_; the inner
surface is smooth, and forms, during quiet breathing, a part of
the lateral wall of the larynx; the anterior surface is rough and
irregular, and to it adhere the _vocal chords_, the _thyro-arytenoid
muscle_, the _lateral and posterior crico-arytenoid muscles_, and
upon these the bases of the _cuneiform cartilages_. The _arytenoid
cartilages_ are lengthened at their summits by two little
pear-shaped elevations, the _cartilages of Santorini_ (called
_apophyses_ in Garcia's observations), which are connected with
them by ligamentous fibres, and extend with them some distance
into the larynx.

4. The _cartilages of Wrisberg_ are described by Hyrtl as slight
elevations upon the front or anterior edge of the _arytenoid
cartilages_, inclining towards the interior, and, like all
parts of the larynx, covered by the mucous membrane.

5. The _cuneiform cartilages_ (as Wilson names them) are two
long, slender cartilaginous laminæ which become somewhat broader
at both ends. These cartilages, with their base, rest in the
middle of the anterior surface of the _arytenoid cartilages_,
and reach to the middle of the vocal chords, by which they are
enveloped. The action of these cartilages renders possible the
production of the head tones, but they are not found in every
larynx. The fact that they are oftener found in the female
larynx than in that of the male, and that the male larynx is
mostly used in scientific investigations, as it is larger and
more easily dissected, may be the reason why up to the present
time no mention is made of them either in German or French
manuals. They are sometimes referred to as cuneiform cartilages,
or confounded with the cartilages of Wrisberg, probably because
it seemed unaccountable that these important bodies should so
long have escaped the attention of anatomists.

From the anterior surface of the _arytenoid cartilages_, extending
towards the centre of the inner wall of the _thyroid cartilage_,
running diagonally through the cavity of the larynx, are stretched
the two pairs of chords already more than once mentioned--the vocal
chords, consisting of folds of the mucous membrane which envelopes
the whole larynx. The two lower of these chords, the vocal chords
strictly so called, into which the _cuneiform cartilages_ project
and through which the interior thyro-arytenoid muscles run, have
their points of attachment at the _arytenoid cartilages_, somewhat
lower than the upper pair. Each of these parallel pairs of chords
form between their lips a slit running antero-posteriorly. The slit
of the upper pair is opened in the shape of an ellipse; that of the
lower pair, the glottis, is very narrow. As the upper chords have
their point of attachment posteriorly and higher, they form with
the lower chords two lateral cavities, the ventricles.

The two pairs of chords, therefore, are the free interior edges
of the membrane, covering the whole larynx and extending into it
to the right and the left. Only the lower vocal chords serve
directly for the generation of tones. More or less stretched and
presenting resistance to the air forcibly expired from the lungs
through the trachea, they are thus made to vibrate. The upper or
false vocal chords do not co-operate with them to generate tone,
but like all the remaining parts of the mouth and throat belong
to the resonance apparatus of the voice, to which also appertains
the back part of the mouth, the _pharynx_, over the œsophagus,
the throat, or gullet. This is separated from the anterior cavity
of the mouth by the palate, which is a curtain formed by the
mucous membranes of the cavity of the mouth, and the centre of
which forms the pendent uvula.

Above the œsophagus, immediately over the palate, lie close
together, and separated only by a very thin osseous partition,
the two posterior nasal orifices. These serve as passages for
the air during inspiration and expiration; they are likewise
considered as belonging to the resonance apparatus.

Upon both sides of the cavity of the mouth, between the two
wings of the palate, lie the tonsils, two glandular bodies,
which separate the sides of the cavity of the mouth from the
_pharynx_. The anterior cavity of the mouth, which is separated
from the nasal cavities by the palate, requires no description,
as every one can acquaint himself with its structure in his own
person and in others. Upon its formation, as well as upon the
position of its different parts and upon the character of those
parts of the larynx and of the cavity of the mouth which have
been described as the resonance apparatus, the difference in
the fulness and timbre of tones depends.

The _epiglottis_ is fixed at the anterior portion of the
larynx, at the root of the tongue, within the angle formed by
the two surfaces of the thyroid cartilage. It is a very elastic
fibro-cartilage, freely moving in a posterior direction. Its
color is yellowish and its general form that of a spoon; its
upper surface is covered with a multitude of little mucous
glands set in shallow cavities. In the downward passage of food
the _epiglottis_ covers the upper orifice of the larynx like
a valve, over which the food passes into the œsophagus or
gullet, without being able to enter the larynx and the trachea.
In the centre of its interior side there is a little rounded
cartilage, movable in every direction, which has as yet no
name. Czermak mentions it first in his observations with the
laryngoscope. In the male larynx, after the voice has altered,
the cartilages become more or less ossified and gradually
harden with increasing age. The cartilages of the female
larynx, with rare exceptions, usually continue with little or
no change. The muscles, by which the movements of the larynx
are effected, are:

     I. The posterior crico-arytenoid.
    II. The lateral crico-arytenoid.
   III. The crico-arytenoid.
    IV. The thyro-arytenoid.
     V. The arytenoid.
    VI. The internal thyro-arytenoid.

In late works upon laryngoscopy the different muscles of the
larynx are variously designated and divided. Bataille terms the
first three of the above-named muscles the exterior muscles of
the larynx; the three others he comprehends under the name of
thyro-arytenoid or vocal muscle, which divides into three slips
in the interior of the larynx. This, however, as well as the
description of the character and action of the different muscles,
belongs to the department of science. What I have already stated
seems to me to be sufficient for an understanding of the action
of these organs in the production of sound in the different
registers. The reader is referred to any good manual of anatomy
for a full description of the muscles, ligaments, nerves, vessels
and membranes.


THE END.




  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE.

  The following amendments have been made to the original text:

  Page 24:
      “and were the forerunners of the opera and oratorio”
  for
      “and were the fore-/runners of the opera and oratorio”

  Page 26:
      “But in that brilliant springtime of vocal art”
  for
      “But in that brilliant spring-/time of vocal art”

  Page 30:
      “i.e., the old singing masters taught”
  No comma in original (added for consistency).

  Page 42:
      “by their anterior apophyses, without leaving any space”
  Comma missing from original.

  Page 48:
      “vol. x. 4th Series, pp. 218-221, 1855.”
  for
      “vol. x. 4th Series, p. 218-221, 1855.”

  Page 66:
      “i.e., those tones where a different action”
  No comma in original (added for consistency).

  Page 79:
      “the tones of the head register.”
  Period missing from original.

  Page 87:
      “the reed of the mouthpiece.”
  for
      “the reed of the mouth-/piece.”

  Page 108:
      “the air coming from the lungs through the trachea,”
  for
      “the air coming from the lungs through the treachea,”

  Page 118:
      “then the high inharmonic over-tones are prominent,”
  for
      “then the high inharmonic overtones are prominent,”

  Page 132:
      “a¹ accented-b¹ a¹ accented-b¹”
  for (compare fourth note)
      “a¹ accented-b¹ a¹ accented-a¹”

  Footnote 18:
      “struggle to establish the unity of the fatherland.”
  for
      “struggle to establish the unity of the father-/land.”







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