Chapter XXVIII: Conclusion: A Word From a Laryngologist to Singers

Many books on _voice_ and _voice culture_, written by singing
teachers, assume almost the proportions of a Treaty on Physical
Culture or on Laryngology by prescribing a large number of
physical exercises or by dispensing advice of a purely medical
character regarding the hygiene of the voice and the care of the
throat.

As a laryngologist of many years’ practice, mostly among
professional singers, we cannot refrain—before closing this
book—from having our say on these medical recommendations,
coming for the most part from outsiders to the profession.

To the question, What measures of prevention against impairing
the voice or what particular precautions for the throat must be
taken by singers, we have only one emphatic reply, _Correct
singing_, above all things.

It may seem an exaggerated and severe statement, but it is
nevertheless true that in the majority of cases when singers
complain about their throat and voice, their troubles cannot be
ascribed to any disease, but are the direct result of a wrong
voice production, the real source of worry for professional
singers. “I have caught a bad cold” is the ready excuse to which
a bad singer usually resorts, and which the public always
accepts, while the experienced laryngologist easily finds out
that the “cold” is nothing but habitual strain on the vocal
organs.

We may quote here the case of a coloratura soprano, whom we kept
warning for years, when she called on us for treatment—usually
after performances or recitals—that there was nothing wrong with
her throat, except the strain of bad singing. At last one day
she became convinced that she should change her method of
singing and acquire an easier voice production. She has never
had to consult a throat specialist since then and her habitual
after-performance colds have completely disappeared. Of course,
like all ordinary mortals, singers are liable to suffer from
colds and sore throats, and so far science has not discovered
any special means to render them immune. In order to guard
against these indispositions they must comport themselves as any
intelligent person does.

Singing does affect the throat, but _bad singing_ sets in a
chronic congestion of the vocal organs through undue strain and
violent effort, just as correct dancing does not harm the legs,
while bad dancing may deform or sprain the ankles or even
cripple the performer.

In a previous chapter we have already stated that a strongly
developed breathing apparatus or throat is not always a
determining factor in good singing, but that correct voice
production greatly contributes to the muscular strengthening of
these organs. The physical constitution of a singer is
independent of his natural or inherited gift for the art, and
the physical training which is indispensable in the case of a
prize fighter or an acrobat is of no avail for the development
of the vocal organs; some great artists are and have been small
and thin, some others of lesser fame are or have been, on the
contrary, endowed with an exceptional _embonpoint_, and, so far,
it has been impossible to measure talent by inches or by pounds.

The general health condition of an artist has certainly much to
do with his singing, but this is true with the proper discharge
of duties in any other walk of life.

There are hygienic principles which govern all the physiological
functions of our system, whether they be of a more muscular
nature, like boxing, fencing, and other sports, or more subject
to psychological control, like painting, playing, singing, etc.

For the proper performance of our work, in both instances, we
need the assistance of hygienic rules, so that our system may be
kept in a high degree of physiological efficiency; but there is
a difference in the hygienic rules pertaining to each of the
above cases. While it is urgent for a boxer or a fencer to keep
his muscles in continual training, it is hardly necessary for a
thinker, a writer, or anybody who is devoted to a purely
intellectual form of activity to overtax his physical strength.
As singing belongs to this latter class of activities, all books
and methods advocating physical training for singers seem to
consider singing more as a muscular action than as an
intellectual achievement.

We would suggest that singers take care of their health just by
following the normal rules of all intelligent people, without
exerting themselves in any form of physical training. The vocal
apparatus is a delicate machine, and must be treated carefully
and gently; general health is its best support.

There are no medicinal preparations of any kind that ought to be
recommended to singers who are in normal health; the beauty of
their voice cannot be enhanced or preserved by doctor’s
prescriptions.

We cannot deny that the organs we make most use of in our daily
occupation are our weakest spots, more readily exposed to the
attack of adverse conditions. It is true, in the case of most
singers, that their vocal organs are more sensitive than the
others to exposure or climatic variations. No pharmaceutical
products, however, can bring a radical relief in such cases;
singers who are compelled by their profession to migrate from
warm lands to cold countries, from dry climates to damp
climates, must try and acclimatize themselves by contracting
open-air habits, by avoiding overheated rooms, as well as cold
and damp habitations; they must lead a regular, wholesome life,
because a profession that is exercised mostly late at night
taxes more our vital resources than work done earlier in the
day.

Moderation must be the guiding rule: cold baths, cold
applications to the outside of the throat for a few minutes in
the morning, followed by a light massage of the neck to promote
circulation; but, above all, a daily practice of vocal exercises
of light nature, which act as an internal massage on the vocal
organs. These exercises must be done often during the day, for
fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. There is no more danger to
the vocal organs in practicing even several hours a day, if the
voice production is correct, than there is to the fingers of a
pianist or a violinist, though some allowance must be made for
the vocal organs, made of delicate tissues, which must be used
with more care than the hardened muscles of our fingers.

Here again—in closing our book—we cannot refrain from mentioning
Caruso as the most wonderful rebuke of all the prejudices and
the antiquated rules that still govern to-day’s schools of voice
culture. The great artist was a heavy smoker and indulged in
liberties that the majority of singers would consider as
forbidden fruit.

We have never known him to use any special preparations or to
take such precautions as any ordinary mortal would not take. A
light salt solution was his usual gargle during the
performances, and when his throat was much congested—often on
account of smoking—he used a spray of _apothesine_ and
_adrenalin_, prescribed by us. But the great singer was more
fond of munching an apple between acts than of anything else.

He was as simple in his living as in his hygienic habits, when
his vocal organs were concerned. Alas, his premature death shows
us now that he was perhaps over-generous with his own vitality,
and that on the altar of Art he laid down his life as a sublime
sacrifice.

His tragic death evokes in our memory the beautiful words that
the great French poet—Alfred de Musset—wrote almost eighty years
ago, at the death of Malibran, another great singer:

_Ce qu’il nous faut pleurer sur ta tombe hâtive
Ce n’est pas l’art divin, ni ses savants secrets:
Quelque autre étudiera cet art que tu créais;
C’est ton âme, CARUSO, et ta grandeur naïve,
C’est cette voix du cœur qui seule au cœur arrive,
Que nul autre, après toi, ne nous rendra jamais._

-----

Footnote 1:

_See_ Wagner’s _Actors and Singers_.

Footnote 2:

It should be noted that special care has been taken to make a
literal rather than a literary translation of the original.

Footnote 3:

Ancient orators used to give so much coloring of speech to the
inflection of their voices that they gave the impression of
singing their orations.

Footnote 4:

In the _Musical Observer_, November, 1919, taken from the
_Monthly Musical Record_.

Footnote 5:

The fact that “ease of pronunciation may account for the lack
of dramatic grandeur and vigor in Italian” makes us think of
Tommaso Salvini, the great Italian actor who played not only
in Italian repertoire, but also Shakespeare in Italian, for
English as well as American audiences. The effects of his
artistic voice of which we still hear, were not lacking in
dramatic grandeur and vigor, which, on the contrary, were very
prominent, despite the fact that he possessed the _easiest
pronunciation_.

The pianist, the dancer, the tennis player, or the acrobat,
does not lack in grandeur or vigor because of his ease in
performing; and the unfortunate horse who pulls a heavy truck
along a road littered with stones is not very much pleased
with his dramatic grandeur and vigor in accomplishing it. He
is trying to go ahead until, obliged to give up for lack of
strength, he stretches himself out on the ground. Ease, after
all, is not such a deadly evil in the world as Mr. Kofler
seems to think.

Footnote 6:

Lilli Lehmann, the great German prima donna and intelligent
artist, in a quotation already given in this chapter, shows
that she is of the contrary opinion.

Footnote 7:

We can appreciate the true merit of anybody compelled, because
of the difficulties of his language, to study it deeply and
perseveringly; but we do not see the benefits accruing to
voice culture by training the voice through as difficult a
medium as the English language, when it can be so easily
avoided by adopting a much more convenient one.

Footnote 8:

This conception coincides entirely with the ideas of Wagner,
as expressed in the following: “If Italian singing is
practicable in a German throat, it can only be through
acquisition of the Italian tongue.” Wagner, _Actors and
Singers_.

Footnote 9:

The classification of Italian vowels is similar to that of the
Latin and Greek. _See_ Goodwin, _Greek Grammar_; Allen and
Greenough, _Latin Grammar_.

Footnote 10:

The word vowel, in fact, is derived from the Latin _vocalis_,
the root of which, _vox_, _vocis_, means voice. Therefore,
vowel means voice.

Footnote 11:

Dr. Mills says that S cannot be sounded without more or less
of a hissing sound, suggesting the escape of air, which is
very unpleasant to the ear; and unfortunately these hissing
sounds are very common in English, so that the speaker or
singer is called upon to use all his art to overcome this
disagreeable effect.

Footnote 12:

These consonants, when associated with the vowels _e_ and _i_,
keep the sound of k only if written with an h between, as in
_che_, _chi_, _ghe_, _ghi_. Otherwise this sound is soft, as
in chest, gem, chill, gin.

Footnote 13:

Copyright, 1922, by D. Appleton & Company

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
● Renumbered footnotes and moved them all to the end of the
final chapter.
● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
● The caret (^) is used to indicate superscript, whether applied
to a single character (as in 2^d) or to an entire expression
(as in 1^{st}).