WITH PRACTICAL ADVICE ON VOICE CULTURE.
By MADAME MELBA.
During the years immediately preceding my first and, for me, my most memorable visit to Europe, the late Marquis of Normanby was Governor of Victoria. At that time I was regarded in Melbourne as a very good amateur pianist, much in request for private parties, at which I always played, and on very rare occasions also sang. At one of these functions, given at Government House, I gave some songs between the pianoforte selections, and the Marchioness of Normanby, in thanking me, said, "Child, some day you will give up the piano for singing, and then you will become famous."
That was the simple comment that set me seriously thinking of a career as a singer. I had always felt that I would become a professional in music—pianist, organist, violinist, perhaps, but something in music, at any rate; but from that moment I knew in an irresistible way that I was to be a singer.
That remark of the Marchioness made me understand, and determined me to grasp "the skirts of happy chance." I courted every semblance of opportunity, and I see now, as then, how fateful a factor opportunity must be with all who aim at a public career. Even the born singer may waste divine gifts for want of opportunity, and the possessor of highly developed vocal talent may entirely sink into obscurity without it.
Among students of similar talent and health she who succeeds is the one with alert mind, who is ever on the qui vive for her chance. The girl who fails is generally lacking in mental and physical energy—too prone to believe that opportunity on ready foot trips unsought even to the laggard's door. The born or inspired singer always sings, although in isolated cases want of opportunity may limit the sphere of those rarely endowed people.
While it is true that the present time offers extraordinary scope for art by reason of a wide-spread knowledge on all subjects, I think the increased chances of success which the growing popularity of music offers have been largely discounted by the numbers of performers and professors who, without proper qualifications have set themselves up as apostles of music, and unfairly and recklessly overcrowded a profession which should be exceptionally difficult to enter.
No doubt many aspirants—I speak solely of women—are encouraged and flattered by the fact that in the profession of music women fare better than in any other walk of life, and the monetary reward of great singers and teachers may be said to have reached a stage of almost extravagant appreciation.
In my opinion the great singers of our day would not be so few if there were more competent teachers and a more complete realisation of the greatness of the task. It is not that lovely voices are rarer than formerly, or talent more sparingly given of God. The piano or violin student will devote ten years to the technique of his instrument, while the vocalist or the teacher too often regards research at an end after studying a year or two, or even a few months only.
Just here, however, I should like to make it plain that the student who cannot give a promising account of herself after eighteen months' thorough study is, to my mind, never likely to do really great things. I do not mean for a moment that she should then be a full-fledged singer, but that she should be able to give clear indications as to future possibilities.