ARTICLE FOUR.
THE SEVENTH PRINCIPLE OF ARTISTIC SINGING.
The seventh principle of artistic singing is
Interpretation.
Theory.—Singing means infinitely more than the use of words and music; it means the expression of the author's idea as a whole.
Devices.—The application of all true principles by drawing, as it were, a mental and emotional tone-picture, as suggested by words and music.
The following article upon this subject was kindly written, especially for this book, by my friend and pupil, the well known teacher, Mr. John Randolph.
Interpretation in song is the faithful reproduction of the intention of both poet and composer. This reproduction includes the revelation of the characteristics of the poem itself, whether lyric, dramatic, or in other ways distinctive. It also reveals the musical significance of the composition to which the words are set. The melodic, rhythmic, and even harmonic values must be made clear to the hearer. But interpretation includes more than this reproduction, essential though it may be. If the expression of the intention of poet and composer fulfilled the sum total of interpretation, one performance would differ little from another. A clear-cut, automatic precision would be the result, perhaps as perfect as the repetition given out by a music-box and certainly no more interesting. Another element enters into interpretation. The meaning of the poem and its accompanying music must be displayed through the medium of a temperament capable of self-expression. A personal subjective quality must enter into the performance. The singer must reveal not only the significance of words and music, but his own intellectual and emotional comment upon them. Upon this acceptance of the inner meaning of words and music, and upon his ability to weave around them some strands of his individuality, depend the character and originality of the singer's interpretation as a whole. Let us see how this comprehension of the meaning of songs may be acquired; upon what foundations rests the ability to make the meaning clear; and if we can do so, let us discover the springs of that elusive quality commonly called "temperament" which gives the personal note to one rendition as distinct from another, and without which the clearest exposition of vocal meanings becomes tame and colorless.
The singer is a specialist, but all successful specialization rests upon the broad foundations of general culture. The reason why there are so many singers and so few artists who thrill us with the revelation of the intimate beauties of the songs of Franz, Grieg, and MacDowell, to take only a few names from the rich list of song writers, is because people sing without acquiring the range of vision which makes such interpretation possible. How can one sing, let us say, a German song, imbued with German romanticism and melancholy, unless he knows something of the German art, the German spirit, the German language, the German national characteristics? A knowledge of literature, art in general, and the "Humanities," to use an old-fashioned word, is absolutely necessary to interpretation of a high order. Too often, alas, the singer imagines that the study of tone production, or acquaintance with musical literature, or a polished diction, will make him sing with the combination of qualities called style. Not so! Upon the broad foundations of general culture, which distinguishes the man of refinement from his less fortunate brother, rests also the specific ability to sing with distinction. Moreover, the singer must have definite musical ability, natural and developed by study. He must thoroughly comprehend rhythm, melody, and harmony in order that his attention may not be distracted from interpretative values to ignoble necessities of time and tune. It is not possible to sing Mozart, not to say Beethoven and Wagner, without acquaintance with the vocabulary and grammar of the wonderful language in which they wrote. Familiarity with the traditions of different schools of composition and performance is necessary also in order not to sing the songs of Bach and Handel like those of Schubert and Schumann, or Brahms like the modern French composers; in order not to interpret with like effects indiscriminately songs of the oratorio and opera, of Italian, German, French, English and modern Russian schools.
Unquestionably the singer must have control of the physiological and technical possibilities of his voice. No one can make words and music mean anything while he is wondering what his voice may do next. Developed intelligence, emotional richness and refinement, musical knowledge, a properly placed voice capable of flexibility and color, distinct articulation, polished diction, these are some of the preliminaries to successful interpretation in song.
Let us see what special qualifications assist in the actual performance of song, in the attempt to give pleasure or artistic gratification by singing songs for others to hear. In the first place let us consider the limitations as well as the advantages of the human voice. I must ask you to remember that considered as an instrument it is smaller in power than some instruments, shorter in range than many others, often less beautiful than the tones of the violin. But in one respect it transcends all others. It is capable of revealing the mind and soul of the one who plays upon it. The speaking voice, as well as the voice in song, reveals thought and feeling to the hearer; those subtler shades of meaning which distinguish man, made in the image of God, from his humble companions, are made clear to those about him by this instrument—this wonderful, persuasive, cajoling, beseeching, enthralling, exciting, thrilling, terrifying instrument! Have you not been moved by the tones of the speaking voice? How can we train the voice in song to express these varying shades of meaning, and can we learn to use them systematically instead of accidentally or when we are impelled by strong emotion? I know that there is a popular impression that some singers possess a mysterious quality known as "temperament," and that others do not. Having this uncertain quality, one singer stirs an audience; having it not, the hearer remains unmoved. If by temperament, intelligence and emotional richness of nature are meant, I do not believe that anyone who is not to some extent possessed of these faculties can stir the feelings of his hearers to any considerable degree. But surely many, almost all people capable of conquering the physiological, psychological, technical, and musical difficulties to be overcome before learning to sing at all well, possess these qualities. And even if modern songs of the best type abound in subtle, emotional expression and varying shades of intellectual significance, it is, I believe, possible for most singers to gain in interpretative facility by learning to connect the thought and feeling underlying the song with the spoken words which are their natural outlet and expression.
I say spoken words; for speech is the more spontaneous expression of thought and feeling, through which individuality attains its simplest and most complete expression. Speech is the normal method through which we make clear our ordinary thoughts, feelings, desires, repulsions, and attractions to those about us. Song is the finer flower of artistic expression, one of the means through which imagination and the creative and interpretative faculties find an adequate medium and outlet. But the words of the poem, whether spoken or sung, must first be thoroughly understood before the reader or singer attempts to make anyone else comprehend or feel them. Too often an apparent lack of "temperament" is only the failure to have a definite understanding of the meaning of the words the singer is vainly endeavoring to impress upon his audience. Let the singer recite or read aloud the words of his songs. This is a natural form of expression, and requires a less complex process of thought than singing, which demands several automatic reflexes in securing tone production; let him read aloud, trying to give out every shade of thought and feeling the poem contains, in a tone which is persuasive and appealing. Later, when he can do this with appropriate emphasis in speech, let him try to express the same meanings in his singing voice. In all probability he will find that he is much assisted by the music, if his tone production is reasonably correct and authoritative, and he be enough of a musician to grasp readily tonal values. The sense of the words, the emotion and thought underlying the words, will suggest the color and character of voice appropriate to the expression and interpretation of the song as a whole. Of course, if he tries to impress upon his hearer that he thinks it rather weak and foolish to give up completely to the full significance of the words, and to impersonate their narrative or dramatic significance, there is no help for him. I am inclined to think that the fear of seeming exuberant or foolish, the unwillingness to give one's inner self to others, or a self-consciousness which prevents it, is at the root of much apparent lack of "temperament." The singer must be both the narrator of the story of the poem and the impersonator of the principal characters in that story. Upon the completeness of his understanding of the meaning of the poem, and his revelation of its meanings, as well as upon the absence of stiffness or self-consciousness in suggesting the moods or characteristics displayed, will depend the impression of temperamental force upon his audience.
The following suggestions may be of some value as devices in making songs mean something; and this, after all, is the object of all attempts at interpretation.
Suppose you take a new song—one you have never seen before. Do not sit at the pianoforte, and play at it and sing at it until, after a fashion, you know it. This way of learning leads to the kind of statement recently heard after a peculiarly bad performance, "Why, I never think of the words at all when I sing!" Instead of doing this, if you have been taught to do so, read the song through, observing its general character. If thinking music without playing or singing be impossible for you, play it over, carefully noting tempo and other general characteristics, until you have an understanding of the melody, rhythm, and musical content. Observe how the words fit the music, still without singing. Then read the poem silently and carefully, and decide whether it is narrative, lyric, dramatic, churchly, or in other ways distinctive. Next read the poem aloud, giving the voice character appropriate to its sentiment, phrasing it intelligibly, observing the emotional portent, and coloring it accordingly. If the poem be narrative, tell the story with life and vitality; if it be dramatic, attempt to impersonate the characters concerned; if it be devotional, recite with dignity and devotional quality. Finally, when both words and music are well in the mind, if possible with an accompaniment, but certainly standing, sing the song. Sing, making a compromise between the strict rhythmical value of the notes and the demands of the sense of the words. Keep the general outlines of the music so far as phrasing and rhythm are concerned; but whenever a sacrifice must be made, sacrifice the musical value and emphasize the emotion, the meaning, the poetry, the dramatic or narrative significance of the words. Phrase with this end in view; sacrifice anything except tone-production to this end. Do not distort the rhythm, but bend it sufficiently to emphasize important words and syllables, by holding them a little, at the expense of unimportant words or syllables. Finally, remember that misguided enthusiasm is not interpretation.
No real interpretation is possible without a full comprehension of the meaning of both words and music. Study the voice. Study its possibilities and its limitations. Study music until the musical element of difficulty is reduced to a minimum, and until the character, style, and traditions of the various song forms are well within your grasp. No matter how beautiful may be the voice, or how well placed, no amount of enthusiasm or temperament can atone for a meaningless or unintelligent treatment of the intellectual, emotional, and musical characteristics of the song as a whole.