erward, except in the modern Italian school
of realistic singing. For this one must consider the voice normally and
sensibly.
I owe my treatment of my voice largely to Mr. Stephens, with whom I have
studied for the last eight years, taking a lesson every day I am in New
York. This is advisable, I believe, because no matter how well one may
think one sings, another trained mind with other ears may detect defects
that might lead to serious difficulties later. His methods are difficult
to describe; but a few main principles may be very interesting to
vocalists.
My daily work in practice is commenced by stretching exercises, in which
I aim to free the muscles covering the upper part of the abdomen and the
intercostal muscles at the side and back--all by stretching upward and
writhing around, as it were, so that there cannot possibly be any
constriction. Then, with my elbows bent and my fists over my head, I
stretch the muscles over my shoulders and shoulder blades. Finally, I
rotate my head upward and around, so that the muscles of the neck are
freed and become very easy and flexible. While I am finishing with the
last exercise I begin speaking in a fairly moderate tone such vowel
combinations as "OH-AH," "OH-AH," "EE-AY," "EE-AY," "EE-AY-EE-AY-EE-AY,"
etc. While doing this I walk about the room so that there will not be
any suggestion of stiltedness or vocal or muscular interference. At
first this is done without the addition of any attempted nasal
resonance. Gradually nasal resonance is introduced with different spoken
vowels, while at the same time every effort is made to preserve ease and
flexibility of the entire body. Then, when it seems as though the right
vocal quality is coming, pitch is introduced at the most convenient
range and exercises with pitch are taken through the range of the voice.
The whole idea is to make the tones as natural and free and pure as
possible with the least effort. I am opposed to the old idea of tone
placing, in which the pupil toed a mark, set the throat at some
prescribed angle, adjusted the tongue in some approved design, and then,
gripped like the unfortunate victim in the old-fashioned photographer's
irons, attempted to sing a sustained tone or a rapid scale. What was the
result--consciousness and stiltedness and, as a rule, a tired throat and
a ruined singer. These ideas may seem revolutionary to many. They are
only a few of Mr. Stephens' very numerous devices; but for many years
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