Music and Words
The speaker should learn to harmonize his music so exquisitely with his words that to the uninitiated the accompaniment seems rather extempore improvising than the result of toil and diligence. As a matter of fact, it is extremely rare that even the greatest artists dare trust to the inspiration of the moment to provide them with adequate accompaniment.
An artist may have a theme or motif borrowed from some composer, and he may be sufficiently gifted to plan it out and develop it for himself, but always with careful thought and deliberation before he gives it public expression.
The dual art is as full of vagaries and traps as the French language, and at first the student who finds himself handicapped by inability to conquer it, cannot do better than study some poems written to music, and at these he must work steadily before he attempts to patter to accompaniment.
A few musical poems mastered will go far to secure him an air of ease and self-possession.
Correct attitude at piano.
For instance, undertake some such study as Racine’s tragedy of “Athalie,” which has been so exquisitely set to music by Mendelssohn. In the opening bar of “Allegro Moderato,” a few notes are played to introduce the passage, “Where do those women and their children go?” Then there are a few more notes, followed by the words, “The Lord hath laid the queen of cities low.”
The four succeeding bars are treated in the same way. The music ceases while “Her priests are captives” is recited. Then a chord is struck, and the voice goes on unaccompanied, “Her monarchs are rejected.” Another chord, “Her godly rites forsaken, unprotected.” The sixth bar opens with a chord, and is followed by the words, “Down, temple! Cedars, down!” and terminates with four semi-quavers.
This is an intensely dramatic poem, written in rhymed Alexandrines, and the student must take great care not to rend the words from the accompaniment, or the accompaniment from the words. The short phrases and detached chords must punctuate and emphasize the sentences, and lend weight and finish to the whole. This is not a difficult task when compared with such a study as “The Dream of Jubal,” in which the music accompanies the words in strict time, the combination of voice and pianoforte flowing smoothly, the components dependent and yet never waiting for each other.
The only way to reach perfection is to study the poem and music separately at first, until the student is fairly familiar with both. Then continue them with the aid of a metronome until the technicalities of the mechanism, which include correct emphasis, pauses, and rhythm, and the proper flow of the phrases, are mastered.
When this has been frequently rehearsed, the student may try his powers without the metronome, and gradually, but surely, he will master the antagonistic forces arrayed against him.
The artist who possesses a natural gift of composition will find it extremely useful, for there are many exquisite poems which, although seeming to clamor for a musical accompaniment, have not yet been touched; but this combination is fraught with perils, and those who approach it must be for ever wary of the grotesque and unfit.
In burlesque, of course, the artist has great license in the matter of accompaniment. He may exaggerate and slash his pianoforte (taking care never to drown his voice), and achieve the absolutely absurd and ludicrous, but, in the poems or patter that need delicacy, lightness of touch, melancholy cadences or bubbling, merry notes, he cannot be too careful in the theme he chooses to aid and color his portrayal. In such pieces, the right attitude, the right gesture, the right expression must be studied and gripped, so as to add their subtle beauty to the whole. The accompanying sketch shows the correct attitude at the piano, or rather, the attitude generally adopted by the professional musical-sketch artist. The body is turned “three-quarters” to the audience, the head full-faced, the left foot working the pedals, while the right usually follows the direction in which the performer is looking.