A man might be a great pianist or a fine violinist—he might even be a great composer—without ever concerning himself at all with the other arts. But in the case of the singer this would be quite impossible.
For it is the singer’s business to interpret poetry in song and to play his part in drama on the stage, and it is obvious that he cannot hope to do these things properly without making himself acquainted with those arts also in addition to his own.
How can one hope, for instance, for a fine interpretation of a great song if the words themselves mean nothing to the singer? He may sing the notes, but he cannot possibly do justice to his task unless he enters completely into the spirit of the words and the meaning of the poet.
And in the same way how can one hope to give a satisfactory impersonation of a part in an opera except by studying carefully the drama as a whole, grasping the intentions of the author, making oneself acquainted with the period of the action, and generally entering into it and all the literary, dramatic, historical, and other details of the work as well as considering it from the purely musical point of view?
I am well aware that the opposite practice has often enough been followed. I have heard, indeed, of artists who have sung in such an opera as “Il Trovatore” for years without having ever troubled to understand the course of the action as a whole, and who were consequently in a state of total ignorance as to what it was all about.
But I cannot believe that any one who addressed himself to his task in that unintelligent spirit would ever be likely to give an interpretation of his own part of much significance or value.
In my own case I go so far as to study not only, as a whole, any opera in which I have to take part, but even to learn, or at all events familiarise myself with, all of the other rôles. And I may add that I have found the practice helpful not only to myself but also to my fellow-artists before now, when perhaps some nervous tenor or timid débutante has temporarily “dried up,” and I have been enabled to come to the rescue and relieve the situation. This, however, merely en passant.
The main point I am insisting on for the moment is that the vocalist who wishes to make the most of his powers cannot have too solid a foundation in the way of general knowledge and culture. There may be no direct connection between the one thing and the other, but his art will benefit none the less—will gain in depth and force and subtlety—in virtue of the fact that it is the outcome of a cultivated nature and the product of a mind which has thought and pondered over the deeper problems of existence.
Chapter VII
STUDY AN INSTRUMENT
I MAY add, too, that there is no excuse for singers to neglect the cultivation of their minds, inasmuch as they have so much more time for this purpose than many of their fellow-students in other branches of the profession.