Desultory Voice Practice
European schools and teachers stand aghast at what American pupils
demand and at their expectations. Accustomed to the years of attention
to detail and to seeing their own students willing to wait long years
before good results are achieved, they naturally think the American
students wild. These Americans want to do in one year what Europeans are
willing to use three or four years for. Those teachers say it cannot be
d
ne and set down American students as conceited fools. While at first
glance the teachers appear right, may they not be wrong? America to-day
has more inventions in use, more quick ways of working in all lines of
life, and can show quicker results in all lines of activity than any
other nation. Methods and ways have been devised and adapted to American
speed in all branches. May such not apply to study? So this item is
prepared in the interest of American students, living under American
conditions. It is useless to say, "we live too fast." Take facts as
they are and adjust our custom to the day, place and situation.
Until within comparatively few years the plan for cultivation of the
voice and preparation for song singing was to sing a few sustained tones
for warming up the voice, as the saying was, and then to sing vocalizes.
In the earlier stages of practice solfeggii and vocalizes of easy range
and light character were employed. As these were acquired, similar ones
of greater difficulty were used and as the singer gained confidence in
himself and ability to sing better, the exercises were still increased
in difficulty. The time employed in study extended over several years
and with the result that those who had patience and perseverance became
able to sing. Not one, however, in a thousand, who studied ever arrived
at a point which allowed him comfort in his singing or pleasure to his
hearers. That is, to the idea of a practical mind, desultory voice
study. It may be adapted to the contented plodding of an old world
civilization, but is not in keeping with the age of electricity or of
gigantic schemes. It must be kept in mind by every one that "old things
have passed away and all things have become new." The very association
about us makes mind keen to rapidity of action, speaking from incisive
thought. A plodder stands back while the brilliant man moves to the
front. By the plodder is meant he who is willing to go slowly. By the
brilliant man, he, though he may not have more native talent than the
other, has by calling to his aid those commanding elements of success,
moved surely and therefore swiftly, through the perplexities of every
existence, to the front. Every thing which cuts off wastefulness of time
becomes a weapon with which to fight perplexities. In such an active
life, he who would cultivate the voice and become a musician must map
out for himself a course of study which will give him the best results
in the quickest possible time.
It is patent to every one who intelligently teaches that the road
followed during the last few generations lacks these short roads to
success. One asks, and with justice, if we have now found the royal road
to learning which it has ever been said does not exist. If that means
the road by which, at one bound, we reach perfection, the answer must be
that no royal road has been found. There have been planned, however,
ways of procedure which must shorten the trip. I know not when man first
practised dentistry but this I do know, that the doctor of dental
science who works on lines of even one generation back is valueless.
To-day the terrors of the dentist's chair are reduced to a minimum, if
not entirely removed. Photography, a science of our day, has swiftly
grown to an art. I recall a photographer who in 1870 was noted for
perfect work. He was so satisfied with himself and his work that he
neglected to use the new ways which were being discovered. In 1880 his
work was considered so bad as to be condemned by all and his studio was
forsaken. Printing by the sun had not been discarded but how to use the
science had been carefully advanced--wasteful and slow method discarded,
and surer and better results obtained. Is a musician less keen of
perception and adjustment to circumstances than the dentist and
photographer? Pride rebels against an affirmative answer. Then the
natural deduction is that he has learned to apply new ways and methods,
by and through which he can produce surer and more beautiful results
than could his predecessor in his profession. As a first step toward
progress he recognised the faults of the old way and sought a change
from them. The chief of the faults lay in seeking to cultivate a sound.
He said in substance, then, that "since cultivating a sound is wrong I
consider that no such thing as sound exists. It cannot be perceived by
any of the senses. It cannot be seen, tasted, smelt, felt, or even
heard." (Parenthetically, it may be said if one takes exception to the
latter statement, that proof is given of the truth if one sings into a
phonograph. The singer cannot recognise what the instrument sounds back
as his voice. Others may recognise it but he cannot. The hearing of
my voice by another, no matter how much he may tell me about it, does
not show me how it sounds, and I must conclude that I cannot hear it.)
Since none of the five senses can bear upon sound, for cultivating it,
sound, or tone if you wish to call it so, is worthless. This then which
the old teachers watched for years, was intangible, and to watch it
to-day and to try to form singers by manipulating so subtle a thing,
produces wastefulness, and desultory practice. Go to the foundation.
What produces voice? Vibration of air reservoirs. What governs the air
and gives the vibration? Muscle. What are muscles, where are they, how
can they be managed? They are contained within the portion of the body
between the waist and the eyes, and form, while used in voice
production, about all of that portion of the body, and they can be
managed by the understanding and command of the mind. The general
understanding of vocal anatomy, and the positive control of that anatomy
that it may do just what the will demands is the foundation of voice
practice. Such positiveness makes possible the rapidity of vocal
development akin to the surety of the dentist's art and the certainty of
the photographer. The prime fault of old methods is, at one stroke, cut
away. A new growth on the foundation appears.
Many musical journals discuss methods, Italian, French, German. Even
wonder if we will ever have an American method. Such discussion is
waste. There is one method. All schools build on it. He who
understands it best and is surest in teaching it, gives best result and
is the best teacher. He, the best teacher, is such only when he applies
his mind to each and every act of his pupil and banishes for the time
being every other thought from mind. In a proper lesson every minute is
used thoroughly. No sixty seconds can be thrown away. The mind of the
teacher alert to the necessity of his charge makes every minute tell.
With this as a preamble, turn to the pupil who is by himself to avoid
desultory practice.
You have a voice. Every one has. Yours, you know, is a very good one.
You want (not, would like) in the quickest time to make it do just what
you conceive a fine singer should do. Then, know what is to be done,
understand how to do it, and do it. The boys say "One to make ready, two
to prepare, and three--." But you stand around making ready, preparing
so long. Why? Do you know what is to be done? Ask the teacher, and don't
let him evade positive instruction. Garcia, when asked the cause of
Jenny Lind's great success, replied "She never tried to do anything 'til
she knew how. More than once she has come to my house of an evening and
said 'I did not fully understand what you told me to-day. Will you
explain it again?' After that she never needed to be told again." At a
lesson understand what is taught. Don't pretend you do when you do not.
After going home from each lesson, write in a book kept for that purpose
what has been said at the lesson. Read that book often. This will fix in
mind, as well as preserve for reference, the instruction, and make sure
the understanding of it. Then it is for you to do it. Once the pianist
played scales by the hour to limber the hand; now he thinks only of the
muscle which causes each finger to strike, and makes that muscle work at
once. What formerly took months to do he now does in days. Desultory
practice is avoided. A teacher in a certain city complained that another
teacher got pupils by advertising quick method. Cut off desultory
practice, apply mind where brute force has formerly held sway, and quick
method is the result.
One reference to complaint brings others to mind. The most precious
commodity known is time. Twenty-four hours only in a day. How little and
how valuable. Yet if all is conserved, how much and how great. Masonic
instruction divides the day into three portions; one for our usual
avocations, one for good of self and family, and one for refreshment and
sleep. So much for instruction. Can some wasteful acts of life be
reduced or eliminated, that we may economize time, and what is better,
form habit of utilizing all of the precious commodity? What a lesson one
can draw on these elevated trains. Each morn, a man (one man, or how
many think you?) enters and finds a seat. Immediately he is into his
newspaper. A half hour later he gets out, having arrived at his station.
What has happened? He has read the newspaper. No, he hasn't read the
newspaper. Ask him what he has learned. He can't tell you. One item,
two, three, perhaps--and these of little value. That is not reading. It
is cursory glancing, desultory and wasteful. Stop it. Thirty precious
minutes gone. A glance at a paper (provided one knows the general
make-up of the paper he reads) tells him all in it of value. Six minutes
is enough, except when something of unusual moment is to be read, and
that doesn't happen once a month. The other twenty-four minutes should
go into some other purpose. A book, magazine, play, or even silent
thought will give value for the twenty-four. At night, on the way home,
the man skims through an evening paper. Almost one hour of the
twenty-four thrown away. Compute the amount of educational advancement
possible to this city were the hundreds of thousands of hours thrown
away daily to be used in progressive study or thought. You and I help to
waste, do we?
The command of the mind is the underlying need of the student. It has
come into thought that should one apply himself every minute to some
work that he would fatigue and wear out. He could not stand it. Wrong.
The mind cannot wear out, even if it can fatigue. Rest is the opposite
of unrest, and unrest is equivalent to fatigue. The superficial reading
or skimming, shifting of thought through the thousand objects which come
before the mind gives the unrest and through it, the fatigue. Stop the
unrest, and let rest abound. Rest comes through definite change of work.
The man who leaves his office, rushes to mountain and farm, sees new
scenes, faces, customs, eats new food, rides, fishes, swims, climbs and
dances, is the one who comes back rested. There has been no unrest, but
radical change. The first assistant engineer of the New York aqueduct
was to me at one time an object of astonishment. It was said of him,
"When he works, he works; when he plays, he plays; whatever he does it
is for the time all in the world to him." At that time he held an
important engineering position, was an officer in a military
organization, secretary of a yacht club, active in church society,
leader in literary circles in classic Boston and never was rushed. The
change of work was the secret of it all. Rest came by turning out of
mind what did not pertain to the act then in hand. Every act was new.
Of a certain minister it is said "He can do more in ten minutes than
most men do in a day." His church has fifteen hundred members and his
Sunday school a larger number. Calls, sermons, the sick, weddings,
funerals, the poor (for he had four charity societies), his family,
young people's societies,--yet he has time for all and he sees callers,
more in one week than you and I do in a year. How does he do it? What
you and I waste time upon, he does not. No gossip, worry, standing
before a mirror, dozing over dinner, or unrest for him. Vary the
monotony a little and find rest. Don't fear doing too much. Wear out, if
need be, but don't rust. It is the busy man who has lots of time. Do you
want advice, a helping hand? Avoid the lazy man, for he has no time for
you. The busy man has. Why is it that the busy teacher draws the most
pupils? Were he to half teach ten pupils they would leave him and no
more would come. Because he can attend to forty, and that by making to
each a profitable half-hour, forty more come. The half supplied teacher
is less able to teach his small flock than the pushed teacher. He must
turn quickly from act to act and thus keep rested, by change of scene,
pupil, music and vivacity. "Can you jump immediately from a lesson to
the desk and write one of your magazine articles?" asks one. Nothing
easier. Fix the mind on what is to be done that minute, and do it. It
makes a heaven of earth.
Instruction which is not practical is little worth. You are interested
in improving yourselves vocally. To you let me plan a first step toward
preventing desultory voice practice. Under four headings. Practical
ones.
First.--Establish customs. The best one I know is to plan in advance
to accomplish certain things. Make up the mind what you would like to
do. Each night make out a little card of what is to be done next day.
Probably not half the things planned will be executed, at first. What of
it. Some have been done; but better, that unconscious growth which
carries custom into habit will be developed and the system which will
grow out of the custom of preparing the cards and attempting to work out
that which was planned, will cut off more wasteful minutes than you
admit are in your day. After a time it will come that all the items you
write on the card at evening will not be too much to do on the following
day. Compare the card of the thirtieth day with that of the first and
you will find you wrote quite as many (if not more) things to do and now
you can do them all, and feel no hurry and far less fatigue. Will you
try that?
Second.--Give certain times each day to certain things. You can't? You
can. I'll give proof you can. Having planned what is to be done the next
day and allowed that custom to become habit, will develop such
regularity that each hour will have its regular work and nothing will
crowd it out. The system produces it. Turn a kaleidoscope. Each jarring
makes new adjustment of figure. Your duty is a kaleidoscope. The proof
is that every one who tries such adjustment, succeeds. The school boy
knows the time of bell ringing, the hour for arithmetic, geography, etc.
The train man knows the minute to be at each station. The clerk or
workman is ready to stop work at a certain time. Certain theatres
announce what scenes will be on at every minute of the evening. You
think and would say, "But these admit of no interruption, and I may have
interruptions." To which I say "These permit no interruption, and if
you were as systematic, you would permit none." A friend calls at the
door to see you. You waste five minutes (only five?) talking to him.
Think it over. Was that necessary? Couldn't it have been said in
two--one, or less? Next time, kindly, but firmly excuse yourself. If the
friend thinks you snubbing, you can afford that, for the friend is a
wasteful one and better be dropped than allowed to spoil you. The fault
when we waste time is in us, not in the friend. A lady called recently.
"Your time is valuable. I'll say in one word what I want." 'Twas said,
and she went. Kind lady! To whom? Me? Not at all. She is one of the
busiest women in the city and couldn't afford to give much of her time
to the errand, but neatly complimented, in order to cover what some
might call selfishness. Be wise. That kindly habit comes from preventing
waste.
Third.--Banish every low or lowering thought. For now, for no reason
except to save time, and help form habit which prevents waste. Every
thought has its sure influence. Every thought of envy, hatred, jealousy,
of crimes, accidents, misfortunes, sorrows, our own or those of others,
is an evil. It takes time out of life and saps life-activity. Supplant
it with pure and good thought. Health, brightness, pleasure, art and
beauty are subjects which lift. Upward, upward, toward heaven! That must
be the student's mental attitude. Enough would drag down. Cast the down
view away. Look up and go up. You do not study for the purpose of going
downward. Upward again to the top--and you must do it by having your
thought good and pure.
Fourth.--Interest friends in your practice. Only one word about that.
No one can long go in any mental work alone. Progress is mental work.
Rising draws others to and with us. See a little whirlwind take up the
dust. It gathers more and more until a column twenty or thirty feet high
is before us. Tell father, mother, friends, those you can trust, what
you hope to do and what your efforts to accomplish that, are. Seeing
you in earnest they will help--with misgivings at first, may be, but
they will join the column and make one with you sure.
Summary, briefly. By systematic utility, every minute contributes to
progress, forming habits which prevent wasteful thought and fatigue. The
customs of former years need not be followed because direct result will
come from direct application of thought to study. Old world ways and
past generation ideas do not belong to-day in either teacher or pupil,
and, therefore, are to drop out. The wastefulness of uncertainty and
evil in mind may be overcome by directness of effort until good habit
crowds out the evil. The first and all important step is the plan of
action. Acknowledge no limitation to growth. Love soundness, careful
thought, steadfast purpose.