ARTICLE THREE.
THE TWO PREVAILING SYSTEMS.
The misunderstanding or the misapplication of any principle, theory or device, always leads to error. This was eminently true of the misunderstanding and misapplication on the part of many writers and teachers who based their systems upon the theories of the scientists and the self-styled scientists. The result is evident; it is that which is known as the local-effort, muscular school of the nineteenth century; the school which to this day so largely prevails; the school which makes of man a mere vocal machine, instead of a living, emotional, thinking soul.
The local-effort school attempts, by direct control and manipulation of muscle and of the vocal parts, to compel the phenomena of voice. In this respect it is unique; in this respect it stands alone. The truth of this statement becomes evident when we stop to consider that in nothing known which requires muscular development, as does the art of singing, is this development or training secured by direct manipulation and control of muscle. There is nothing in the arts or sciences, nothing in the broad field of athletics or physical culture, nothing in the wide world that requires physical development, in which the attempt is made to develop by direct effort as does the local-effort school. Hence we say the mistake they make is in attempting to compel the phenomena of voice, instead of studying the conditions which allow them to occur. It might be interesting, it certainly would be very amusing, to enumerate and illustrate the many things done under the name of science, to compel the phenomena of voice; but space will not permit. Many of them are well known; many more are too ridiculous to consider except that they should be exposed for the good of the profession.
The result of all this direct manipulation of muscle is ugliness—everywhere hard, unmusical, unsympathetic voices. The public is so used to hearing hard, muscular voices that the demand for beautiful tone is not what it should be. In fact, it is not generally known that it is possible to make almost any voice more or less beautiful that is at all worth training. The hard, unmusical voice of the day is a hybrid, unnatural and altogether unnecessary voice. Physical effort in singing develops physical tone and physical effect. Common tone makes common singing. A great artist must be great in tone as well as in interpretation.
The disciples of the local-effort school lose sight of the fact that when a muscle is set and rigid, either in attempting to hold the breath or to force the tone, it is virtually out of action; that instead of actually helping the voice it is really preventing a free, natural production, and that other parts are then compelled to do its work; this accounts for many ruined voices. "To make a part rigid is equal to the extirpation of such part. While it is in a state of rigidity it ceases to take part in any action whatsoever: it is inert and the same as if it had ceased to exist."
The local-effort school is accountable for many errors of the day. The incubus of this school is fastened upon the vocal profession with octopus-like tentacles which reach out in every direction, and which strive to strangle the truth in every possible way; but, while "life is short, art is long;" the truth must prevail.
As an outgrowth of the local-effort school, and as an attempt to counteract its evil tendencies, there is to-day in existence another school or system known as the limp or relaxed school, or the system of complete relaxation. The object of this relaxation is to overcome muscular tension and rigidity. This is the other extreme. The followers of this school forget that there can be no tonicity without tension. Flexible firmness without rigidity, the result of flexible, vitalized position and action, is the only true condition. The tone of the school of relaxation is nearly always depressed and breathy; it always lacks vitality.