Advice to Singers

by Frederick James Crowest

[ON THE CHOICE OF MUSIC.]

There are, of course, no rules to be given to guide the student in the choice of music, except the general ones, to choose good music, pleasing music, and music suited to his voice and powers. But those general rules touch incidentally on a few points on which it may be well to offer a few remarks.

Music must suit the Voice.—Your music must not only be appropriate for your voice in compass, but it must be such as has been written for a voice of your kind. This is a most important thing to remember. Nothing is more provoking to a person of good taste and musical knowledge than to hear songs composed for a voice of one class sung by a voice of a totally different character; and yet this is a vice which even good artists will sometimes weakly succumb to. The popular song of Gounod's, "Quand tu chantes berçée," for instance, has been sung to death by many soprani and contralti, in various keys. One would have thought that the words alone would have shown them the utter absurdity of what they were doing; but no, for the sake of producing an effect (upon an audience who naturally supposed that public singers of high standing knew what they were doing, and why they did it), these good ladies committed what I do not scruple to call a vulgar and inartistic blunder. The song is a man's song, and no woman should attempt it.

This fault is one which amateurs are very apt to fall into, and a long list might be made of songs which have suffered this unfair treatment. Soprani sing tenor songs—(I have often, in the early days of the popularity of "Il Trovatore," heard a soprano sing "Ah, che la Morte!"—tenors, those written for soprano—(e.g., I know an amateur tenor whose "crack" song is Iphis' "Farewell" in "Jephtha"). Contralti and mezzo-soprani steal bass and barytone songs, as "But who may abide," from the "Messiah," and basses and barytones return the compliment by appropriating "What tho' I trace," or "O rest in the Lord.")

There is a reason, quite apart from the question of taste, which renders this practice objectionable. A composer of any skill writes his accompaniment as well as his melody with reference to the voice which he wishes to sing it. Now, if that voice be—we will say—a soprano, the accompaniment will be written for a voice of that pitch, as well as of that character and compass; the progressions of harmony will be written with due regard to the actual place of the vocal notes in the scale. But directly the song is sung by a tenor—a voice which pitches every note an octave lower than the soprano—the relation of the vocal notes to the accompaniment is changed; notes that were intended to be fourths above the accompaniment will become fifths below, and progressions which were correct in the composer's intention become wrong in the effect produced by the singer. That is an extreme case, I grant, but it is only a fair instance of the sort of result which follows on such changes, and it is sufficient to show that the rule rests on reason and not caprice.

"Original Keys."—Do not bind yourself, as some think it necessary to do, always to sing your songs in the original keys. Remember that opera and oratorio music, and a large number of modern "ballads," were composed for performance in large buildings, theatres, and concert-rooms. The keys, therefore, were chosen with due reference to that fact, and to the (in many cases) exceptional voices of the singers. The raising of the pitch in later years also affects the question.

Now, if you have to sing in a drawing-room, the pitch, volume of tone, and style of delivery must be appropriate to chamber music, and not to the stage of Covent Garden, and the keys which are necessary for due brilliancy and effect in a concert-room are frequently unsuited to a drawing-room, giving an appearance of strain and noisiness to the singing. A good deal of opera music is as unfit for singing in a drawing-room as would be a grand symphony for performance there; and an artistic singer should bear in mind this principle of fitness in his selection.

At the same time, if it is considered desirable to transpose a song, let it be only for that reason, and let the aim be to produce the same effect, relatively, in the drawing-room, as the song in its original key is intended to produce in the concert-room. Do not transpose recklessly, merely to "suit your voice:" if you are a barytone, for instance, do not sing tenor songs a few notes lower; or, if you are a soprano, do not transpose contralto songs to suit your register. For the character of the music (if the music is good) suits the voice for which it was intended, and there is a risk of destroying that character by giving it to a voice of another kind. This has been proved over and over again on the stage in several notable instances.

Execution.—Do not be too ambitious in selecting florid songs for performance either in public or private. "Fireworks" in a drawing-room rarely please, while in a concert-room they must be very perfect and first-rate in execution to do so. Of course, if you are a professional artist you must include such work in your studies, and even for the amateur the practice of florid music, under a master, is most desirable as an exercise. But where the choice of a song for a concert rests with yourself, sacrifice ambition to prudence, unless your voice is naturally a very flexible one, and your training in that style of music very complete. I give, on this subject, a quotation from an old and experienced writer on music and singing: