HINTS ON VOCAL TRAINING—THE BREATH.
By BERNARD W. FISHER, A. M.
The prevalence of throat troubles is so marked in America, and by no means least so in this city, that if one hundred individuals, collected at random, had their throats examined, it is probable that four out of every five would be found to have these delicate organs more or less affected. Whatever cause may be assigned by the medical expert in each particular case, the importance of a thorough mastery of the art of correct breathing can hardly be insisted upon too strongly. If it be urged that the widely distributed works of Behnke and others must have put an end to any general ignorance of the importance of this branch of vocal training, I can only reply that a defective style of breathing is by no means uncommon even in public singers, while among amateurs it is so rare that a perfect management of the breath excites in a critical observer a feeling of gratified surprise. The name and works of Behnke have, of course, been known in this country for a considerable time, but some of his statements are too striking to be omitted in an article on this subject. When lecturing at the Tonic Sol-fa College, London, he took ten students and measured their lung capacity in cubic inches, by means of the spirometer, with wrong or "collar-bone" breathing. He then showed them how to breathe correctly, that is, midriff and rib breathing. The average increase among the ten was twenty-five cubic inches of air; the least increase twelve inches, and the greatest forty-five. He adds: "I imagine that these figures are more eloquent than any words, and I think it superfluous to make any further comment on them."—('Mechanism of the Human Voice,' page 20.) Now, putting aside the extreme increase of forty-five inches, let anyone consider what an increase in lung capacity of twenty-five cubic inches of air must mean to the vocalist in the execution of difficult passages, to the speaker using his voice by the hour, and, lastly, to the running athlete. It will surprise a young man commencing vocal training to inform him that, at the same time, he will become a better man in the gymnasium and the race; but unless good lungs are an advantage to the athlete in name only, the above figures tell their own tale. I may add that, in teaching young men and boys, I always put this view of the subject before them, knowing that it will be an incentive to their acquiring a thorough mastery over the interesting art of "taking breath."
Correct breathing cannot cure disease. The medical expert must do that. But it will prevent disease; and when the throat, under proper treatment, has been brought to a healthy state, it will assuredly be the chief means of keeping it in that condition. The following is a striking instance to the same effect:
Some years since, an English clergyman had to give up all ministerial duty from "Clerical Sore Throat." Acting under the absurd advice of a London teacher of elocution, he resided in Spain for five years without the slightest benefit. He then returned, and at the house of the elocutionist who had made him an exile saw a copy of Behnke's celebrated work. Coming to the conclusion that the author must be rather clever, he at once consulted him. Following his advice he had his throat made medically sound by Lennox Browne, and then took the usual course in breathing and voice production under Behnke. A short time after I was with Herr Behnke, when a post card arrived from the clergyman: "I preached yesterday in Chichester cathedral, and was congratulated on the strength of my voice and the ease with which I filled the building."
A few weeks since I heard a sermon in a Cleveland church. The preacher took short "collar-bone" breathings, using twice the power necessary for the building, and towards the conclusion was in evident distress (which naturally communicated itself to his hearers), a failing voice and perspiring face. If before entering the ministry he had learned to breathe and use his voice properly, such troubles could never have existed.
There is yet another unpleasant affliction which correct breathing will rarely fail to cure, a high-pitched and effeminate voice in a man. I quote again a case from the same work:
Mr. M——, a tall, thin young man, engaged in evangelistic work, suffered from "weakness of voice." He spoke chiefly in a "child voice," over which he had very little control. His breathing power increased by sixty cubic inches in two lessons. "In one week more," adds Herr Behnke, "I could dismiss him with a full, sonorous man's voice in place of the uncertain child's squeak with which he had come to me."