Some people wonder why a person who is gifted with voice simply can't get up and sing without any instruction. The reason is that voice is an instrument; a natural, human instrument, it is true, yet one in the use of which the fortunate possessor requires practice and training. The purpose of a singing-method is to produce a perfect coördination of all parts of the human voice-producing mechanism, an apparatus which is by no means simple but, in fact, rather intricate and complicated. It will be found, for example, that such a natural function of life as breathing has to be especially adapted to the requirements of the singing voice; that breathing such as suffices for the average person will not suffice for correct voice-production. Again, in every voice certain notes are better than others, and a correct method of voice-production, while it may not be able to make every
note in the range of voice of equal quality, brings the whole voice up to a more even standard of excellence. It leaves the best notes as good as ever and brings the notes which naturally are not so satisfactory, nearer the standard of the best. The great singers, in addition to natural aptitude, remain students throughout their careers.
There are certain fundamental principles in a correct method of voice-production, for it is based upon study and knowledge of the organs concerned therein. But if the method were a hard-and-fast one, it would not be correct. For there are so many individual differences, physical and temperamental, between pupils, that there must be elasticity and adaptability in a method that claims to produce the best results.
Knowledge and experience should be combined in a teacher. Garcia wrote a voice-manual; and Tosi published a method as far back as 1723. But a teacher who has bought a translation of the "Traité complet de l'Art de Chant" by no means is a second Garcia, nor has a teacher who chances to have read Tosi's book a right to set himself up as an instructor of singing after the old Italian method. The old Italians, like Tosi and Porpora, were men of great practical experience in teaching, and
they understood how to adapt method to individual needs. Consciously or unconsciously, their method was physiological—the fundamental principles of the physiology of voice-production were there; but these great teachers knew that individual differences had to be allowed for and that a singing-method is not a shoemaker's last.
Sometimes, indeed, it is the pupil who makes the master. One of those born singers, man or woman, whom Nature has endowed with superlative gifts and whom some unknown yet meritorious teacher, perhaps in America, has started aright, goes abroad and, after a while, comes forth, not made, but fortunately not marred, from a foreign vocal studio and enters upon a great career—and the foreign teacher's fame becomes international. The real foundation for that career may have been laid in an American city. But ambitious young Americans, instead of seeking out that teacher, will flock to the foreign one.
In such matters we are the most gullible people on the face of the earth. An Italian, now dead, but in his day the most high-priced singing-teacher in London, used to devote the greater part of his lesson periods to telling his pupils how fond certain
members of the English Royal family were of him and to pointing out the souvenirs of their favor which he had displayed in his studio. Yet, doubtless, his pupils thought that, all the while they were listening to his chatter, they were taking lessons in voice-production! Americans dearly love a foreign name, and especially an Italian one, when it comes to selecting a singing-teacher. But all is not gold that glitters, and the fact that a teacher writes "Signor" before his name does not necessarily signify that he is Italian, but often only that he would like people to believe he is, because there is a foolish belief that every Italian teaches the old Italian method. The famous Mme. Marchesi, in spite of her name, is not Italian. She acquired it by marriage to Salvatore Marchesi, an Italian baritone. Before that she was Fräulein Mathilde Graumann, a concert singer of Frankfort-on-the-Main; and sometimes I wonder whether, if she had remained Fräulein Mathilde Graumann, she ever would have become the famous teacher she is. But Marchesi she is, and famous; and I do not doubt justly so. Yet even the pupils of so famous a teacher differ regarding the value of her method. Thus Melba never fails to sing her praises. On the other hand, Emma Eames, knowing that she was
speaking for publication and that a stenographer was taking down her words, said: "Mme. Marchesi is a thoroughly good musician. Any one who goes to her with an established voice can learn a great deal from her in the interpretation of many rôles. She is an admirable teacher of expression and of the general conception of a character. As a drillmaster she is altogether admirable. She teaches you the value of utilizing your time, and she makes you take a serious view of your work, which is important, for hardly an American girl who goes to her has an idea of studying seriously. She also is capital at languages. But when it comes to voice-development, I consider that she fails. My voice naturally was broad and heavy. After the end of the first two years' study with her I could not sing A without difficulty. She did not seem to know how to make my voice light. It was getting heavier and less flexible all the time."
Some years ago Mme. Marchesi's daughter, Mme. Blanche Marchesi, appeared on the concert stage in New York. As the daughter and pupil from childhood of her famous mother, she was supposed to be an ideal exponent of the Marchesi method. Professional singers and instructors flocked