VOCAL REGISTERS
A vocal register has been defined as "a series of tones produced by the same mechanism." This means that in beginning with the lowest tone of the voice and ascending the scale, one comes to a point where before going on to the next scale-tone, a readjustment of the vocal organs is necessary, this change in the action of the larynx and vocal cords beingfeltby the singer andheardby thelistener. The point at which the readjustment takes place,i.e., the place where the voice goes from one register into another, is called thebreak; and one of the things the voice trainer tries to do for each pupil is to teach him to pass so skilfully from one register to another that these breaks will not be noticeable to the hearer—the voice eventually sounding an even scale from its lowest to its highest tone. There is considerable difference of opinion as to the number of registers existing in any one voice, but perhaps the majority of writers incline to the view that there are three; the chest or lower, the thin or middle, and the small or head. It should be noted, however, that the readjustment in the action of the vocal cords referred to above probably takes place only when passing from the lowest register to the next higher one, and that such changes in action as occur at other points are more or less indefinite and possibly even somewhat imaginary. Authorities differ as to just what the change in mechanism is in passing from the chest register to the middle one; but the most plausible explanation seems to be that in the lowest register, the change in pitch from a lower tone to the next higher one is accomplished at least partly bystretchingthe vocal bands more tightly, and that when the limit of this stretching process has been reached, the cords relax slightly, and from this point on each higher tone is made byshorteningthe vibrating portion of the cords; in other words, by decreasing the length of the glottis (the aperture between the vocal cords). This point may become clearer if we compare the process with tuning a violin string. The string may be a third or a fourth below its normal pitch when the violinist begins to tune his instrument, but by turning the peg and thus stretching the string tighter and tighter, the tone is raised by small degrees until the string gives forth the pitch that it is supposed to sound. But this same string may now be made to play higher and higherpitches by pressing it against the fingerboard, thus shortening the vibrating portion more and more. The tuning process may be said to compare roughly with the mechanism of the chest register of the human voice; while the shortening of the string by pressing it against the fingerboard is somewhat analogous to what takes place in the higher registers of the voice.
We have now enumerated what seem to us to be the most essential matters connected with vocal procedure; and if to such information as is contained in the foregoing paragraphs the conductor adds the knowledge that themessa di voce(a beautiful vocal effect produced by swelling a tone from soft to loud and then back again) is to be produced by increase and decrease of breath pressure and not by a greater or lesser amount of straining of the throat muscles; thatportamento(gliding by infinitely small degrees in pitch from one tone to another), although a valuable and entirely legitimate expressional effect when used occasionally in a passage where its employment is appropriate, may be over-used to such an extent as to result in a slovenly, vulgar, and altogether objectionable style of singing; and that whereas thevibratomay imbue with virility and warmth an otherwise cold, dead tone and if skilfully and judiciously used may add greatly to the color and vitality of the singing, thetremolois on the other hand a destroyer of pitch accuracy, a despoiler of vocal idealism, and an abhorrence to the listener; if our conductor knows these and other similar facts about singing, then he will not run quite so great a risk of making himself ridiculous in the eyes of the singers whom he is conducting as has sometimes been the case when instrumentalists have assumed control of vocal forces. But let us emphasize again the fact that these things cannot be learned from a book, but must be acquired through self-activity,i.e., by actual experience in singing; hence the importance of vocal study on the part of the prospective choral conductor.
In conclusion, let us enumerate the main points involved in what is called good singing—these points applying to choral music as directly as to solo performance.
1. The intonation must be perfect;i.e., the tones produced must be neither sharp nor flat, but exactly true to pitch.2. The tone must be attacked and released exactly at the right pitch;i.e., the voice must not begin on some indefinite lower tone and slide up, or on a higher tone and slide down, but must begin on precisely the right pitch.3. The tone must be absolutely steady, and there must be no wavering, notremolo, no uncertainty. This means absolute breath control.4. The tones must follow one another without break, unless the character of the music demands detached effects; in other words, there must be a perfectlegato. The tones must also follow each other cleanly, unless the character of the music makes the use ofportamentodesirable.5. The singer must feel the mood of each song, and must sing as he feels, if he is to perform with real expression. This is a much more vital matter in song interpretation than the mere mechanical observation oftempoanddynamicindications.6. The text must be enunciated with sufficient clarity to enable the audience to catch at least the most important ideas presented. This involves not only thecompletepronunciation of each syllable instead of the slovenly half-pronunciation so commonly heard; but implies as well that the sounds be formed well forward in the mouth instead of back in the throat.
1. The intonation must be perfect;i.e., the tones produced must be neither sharp nor flat, but exactly true to pitch.
2. The tone must be attacked and released exactly at the right pitch;i.e., the voice must not begin on some indefinite lower tone and slide up, or on a higher tone and slide down, but must begin on precisely the right pitch.
3. The tone must be absolutely steady, and there must be no wavering, notremolo, no uncertainty. This means absolute breath control.
4. The tones must follow one another without break, unless the character of the music demands detached effects; in other words, there must be a perfectlegato. The tones must also follow each other cleanly, unless the character of the music makes the use ofportamentodesirable.
5. The singer must feel the mood of each song, and must sing as he feels, if he is to perform with real expression. This is a much more vital matter in song interpretation than the mere mechanical observation oftempoanddynamicindications.
6. The text must be enunciated with sufficient clarity to enable the audience to catch at least the most important ideas presented. This involves not only thecompletepronunciation of each syllable instead of the slovenly half-pronunciation so commonly heard; but implies as well that the sounds be formed well forward in the mouth instead of back in the throat.
If the singing of a soloist or a chorus can meet the test of these requirements, the singing may be called good.
THE PROBLEM STATED
In constructing a concert program for either a solo or an ensemble performance, and in the case of both vocal and instrumental music, at least five important points must be taken into consideration:
VARIETY
We have given variety first place advisedly; for it is by changing the style and particularly through varying the emotional quality of the selections that the conductor or performer will find it most easy to hold the attention and interest of the audience. In these days the matter of keeping an audience interested presents far greater difficulty than formerly, for our audiences are now much more accustomed to hearing good music than they used to be, and a performance that is moderately good and that would probably have held the attention from beginning to end in the olden days will now often be received with yawning, coughing, whispering, early leaving, and a spirit of uneasiness permeating the entire audience, especially during the latter part of the program. The change of etiquette brought about by the phenomenal popularization of the moving picture theater has doubtless had something to do with this change in the attitude of our audiences; the spread of musical knowledge and the far greater intelligence concerning musical performance manifested by the average audience of today as compared with that of fifty years ago is also partly responsible; but the brunt of the charge must be borne by our habitual attitude of nervous hurry, our impatience with slow processes of any kind, and the demand for constant change of sensation that is coming to characterize Americans of all ages and classes. It is doubtless unfortunate that conditions are as they are; but since the attitude of our audiences has admittedly undergone a decided change, it behooves the program maker to face conditions as they actually exist, rather than to pretend that they are as he should like them to be. Since our audiences are harder to hold now than formerly, and since our first-class performers (except possibly in the case of orchestral music) are probably not greatly above the level of the first-class performers of a generation ago (although larger in number), it will be necessary to keep the listener interested by employing methods of program making, which, although they have always been not only entirely legitimate but highly desirable, are now absolutely necessary. As stated above, the obvious way to help our audience to listen to an entire concert is to provide variety of material—a heavy number followed by a light one; a slow, flowingadagioby a bright snappyscherzo; a tragic and emotionally taxing song like theErl-Kingby a sunny and optimistic lyric; a song or a group of songs in major possibly relieved by one in minor; a coloratura aria by a song in cantabile style; a group of songs in French by a group in English; a composition in severe classic style by one of romantic tendency,et cetera. These contrasting elements are not, of course, to be introduced exactly as they are here listed, and this series of possible contrasts is cited rather to give the amateur maker of programs an idea of what is meant by contrast rather than to lay down rules to be followed in the actual construction of programs.
UNITY
But while contrast is necessary to keep the audience from becoming bored or weary, there must not be so much variety that a lack of unity is felt in the program as a whole. It must be constructed like a symphony—out of material that has variety and yet that all belongs together. In other words, the program, like a musical composition, must achieveunity in variety; and this is the second main problem confronting the conductor or performer who is planning a concert. It is impossible to give specific directions as to how unity is to be secured, for this is a matter to be determined almost wholly upon the basis of taste, and taste is not subjectable to codification. The most that we can do for the amateur at this point, as at so many others, is to set before him the main problem involved, and in constructing a program, this is undoubtedly to provide variety of material and yet to select numbers that go well together and seem to cohere as a unified group.
LENGTH
Our third question in making a program of musical works is, how long shall it be? The answer is, "It depends upon the quality of the audience." An audience composed largely of trained concert-goers, many of whom are themselves musicians, can listen to a program composed of interesting works and presented by a first-rate artist even though it extends through a period of two and a half hours, although on general principles a two-hour program is probably long enough. But one made up mostly of people who have had very little musical training, who read little except the daily newspaper and the lightest sort of fiction, and whose chief amusement is probably attendance upon the picture show,—such an audience must not be expected to listen to a program that is either too heavy or too long; and our judgment is that for such a group a program an hour and a half long is probably more suitable than one of two or two and a half hours. Our feeling is,furthermore, that the "tired business man" would not object so strenuously to attending the serious musical performances to which his wife urges him to go if some of these matters were considered more carefully by the artist in planning the program! But here again, of course, we have a matter which depends altogether upon the kind of music presented, whether the entire program is given by one artist or whether there are several performers, whether the whole program is of one kind of music or whether there is variety of voice and instrument, whether the performers are amateurs or professionals, and upon whether the performer is an artist of the first rank and is able by his perfection of technique, his beauty of tone, and his emotional verve, to hold his audience spellbound for an indefinite length of time, or whether he belongs to the second or third rank of performers and is able to arouse only an average amount of interest. Our purpose in including a discussion of the matter is principally in order that we may have an opportunity of warning the amateur conductor not to cause an audience which would probably give favorable consideration to a short program, to become weary and critical by compelling them to sit through too long a performance. This is particularly true in the case of amateur performance; and since this book is written chiefly for the amateur director, it may not be out of order to advise him at this point to plan programs not more than an hour or an hour and a quarter long, at first. It is far better to have the audience leaving the auditorium wishing the program had been longer than to have them grumbling because it is too long.
ADAPTABILITY TO AUDIENCES
Our fourth problem has already been presented in discussing the other three, for it is because of the necessity of adapting the performance to the audience that we haveinsisted upon variety, unity, and reasonable length. Many a concert has turned out to be an utter fiasco because of failure on the part of the program maker to consider the type of people who were to listen to it; and although on such occasions it is customary for the performer to ascribe his failure to the stupidity of the audience, it must nevertheless be acknowledged that the fault is more commonly to be laid at the door of the one who planned the event. A program composed of two symphonies and an overture or two, or of two or three Beethoven sonatas, is not a suitable meal for the conglomerate crowd comprising the "average audience"; indeed it is doubtful whether in general it is the best kind of diet for any group of listeners. Here again we cannot give specific directions, since conditions vary greatly, and we must content ourselves once more with having opened up the problem for thought and discussion.
EFFECTIVE ARRANGEMENT
Having selected musical material that is varied in content and yet appropriate for performance upon the same program; having taken into consideration what kind of music is adapted to our audience and how much of it they will probably be able to listen to without becoming weary; our final problem will now be so to arrange the numbers that each one will be presented at the point in the program where it will be likely to be most favorably received, and will make the most lasting impression upon the auditors.
In general, of course, the heavier part of the program should usually come in the first half and the lighter part in the second, for the simple reason that it is at the beginning that our minds and bodies are fresh and unwearied, and since we are able to give closer attention at that time we should accordingly be supplied with the more strenuous music when we are best able to digestit. But although this is doubtless true in most cases, we have often noticed that audiences are restless during the first part of the concert, and frequently do not get "warmed up" to the point of giving close attention to the performance until ten or fifteen minutes after the program begins, and sometimes not until the second half has been reached. For this reason, and also to cover the distraction arising from the entrance of the ubiquitous late-comer, it seems best to us that some shorter and lighter work be placed at the very beginning of the program—possibly an overture, in the case of a symphony concert. The phenomenon here alluded to has an exact parallel in the church service. When we enter the church, we are thinking about all sorts of things connected with our daily life, and it takes us some little time to forget these extraneous matters and adjust ourselves to the spirit of a church service, and particularly to get into the appropriate mood for listening to a sermon. The organ prelude and other preliminary parts of the service have as their partial function, at least, the transference of our thoughts and attitudes from their former chaotic and egoistic state to one more appropriate to the demands of the more serious part of the service to follow. Somewhat the same sort of thing is found in the case of the majority of people who go to a concert hall for an evening's performance, and although the end to be attained is of course altogether different, yet the method should probably be somewhat the same. Our feeling is therefore that there ought usually to be some comparatively light number at the beginning of the concert program in order that we may be assisted in getting into the listening mood before the heavier works are presented. On the other hand, an artist often plunges into a difficult composition at the very beginning of the concert, and by his marvelous technique or his tremendous emotional vitality sweeps his audience immediately into an attitude of rapt attention; all of whichproves again that art is intangible, subtle, and ever-varying—as we stated at the beginning.
THE IMPORTANCE OF SMALL DETAILS
In concluding our very brief statement of program-making, it may be well to mention the fact that small details often have a good deal to do with the failure of audiences to follow the program with as keen attention as might be desired. These details are often overlooked or disdained merely because they seem too trifling to make it worth the artist's while to notice them; but by seeing to it that the concert hall is well warmed (or well cooled), that it is well lighted and well ventilated; that the doors are closed when the first number begins, and that no one is allowed to enter during the performance of any number; that there are no long waits either at the beginning or between numbers; that unnecessary street and other outside noises are stopped or shut out so far as practicable; and that the printed program (if it has more than one sheet) is so arranged that the pages do not have to be turned while compositions are being performed—by providing in advance for someone who will see to all these little matters, the artist may often be rewarded by a fine type of concentrated attention which would not be possible if the minds of the individuals comprising the audience were being distracted by these other things.
The printer too bears no small responsibility in this matter of having an audience follow a program with undiminished attention from beginning to end, and there is no doubt that the tastefully printed page (and particularly if there are explanatory remarks concerning the composer, style, meaning of the composition,et cetera) will usually be followed with much keener attention than one the parts of which have merely been thrown together. The reason for this we shall leave for some one else to discuss—possibly some writer of the future upon "the psychology of the printed page."
NECESSITY OF CORDIAL RELATION
In chorus directing, it is of the utmost importance that conductor and accompanist not only understand one another thoroughly, but that the relationship between them be so sympathetic, so cordial, that there may never be even a hint of non-unity in the ensemble. The unskilful or unsympathetic accompanist may utterly ruin the effect of the most capable conducting; and the worst of it is that if the accompanist is lacking in cordiality toward the conductor, he can work his mischief so subtly as to make it appear to all concerned as if the conductor himself were to blame for the ununified attacks and ragged rhythms.[35]
CHOOSING THE ACCOMPANIST
In order to obviate the disadvantages that are likely to arise from having a poor accompanist, the conductor must exercise the greatest care in choosing his coworker. Unless he knows of some one concerning whose ability there is no question, the best plan is probably to have several candidates compete for the position; and in this case, the points to be especially watched for are as follows:
Of these four, the last two are by no means the least important; and sometimes it is better to choose the person who has less skill in reading or technique but who has sufficient innate musical feeling to enable him not only to follow a soloist's voice or a conductor's beat intelligently, but even to anticipate the dynamic and tempo changes made by singer or conductor.
The minds of conductor and accompanist must work as one. In stopping his chorus for a correction, it should be possible for the conductor to assume that the accompanist has followed him so carefully and is in such close musical rapport with him that, before the conductor speaks, the accompanist has already found the badly executed passage, and the instant the conductor cites page and score, is ready to play the phrase or interval that was wrongly rendered. The same sort of thing ought of course to take place whenever there is a change of tempo, and it is to be noted that in all these cases the accompanist must make amusicalresponse to the conductor's interpretation, and not merely anobedientone.
COURTEOUS TREATMENT NECESSARY
Having chosen the best available person to do the accompanying, the next thing in order will be to treat the accompanist in such a way that he will always do his best and be a real help in causing the chorus to produce effective results. Next to the conductor, the accompanist is undoubtedly the most important factor in producing fine choral singing; hence our reference to the accompanist as the conductor'scoworker. The first thing to note in connection with getting the best possible help from the accompanist is that he shall always be treated in a pleasant, courteous way, and the conductor must learn at the very outset not to expect impossible things from him; not to blame him for things that may go wrong when some one else is really responsible; and in general, to do his utmost to bring about and to maintain friendly,pleasant relations. This will mean a smile of approval when the accompanist has done particularly well; it may involve publicly sharing honors with him after a well rendered performance; and it certainly implies a receptive attitude on the conductor's part if the accompanist is sufficiently interested to make occasional suggestions about the rendition of the music.
If you as conductor find it necessary to make criticisms or suggestions to the accompanist, do this privately, not in the presence of the chorus. Much of the sting of a criticism frequently results from the fact that others have heard it, and very often if the matter is brought up with the utmost frankness in a private interview, no bad blood will result, but if a quarter as much be said in the presence of others, a rankling wound may remain which will make it extremely difficult for the conductor and accompanist to do good musical work together thenceforth.
NECESSITY OF PROVIDING THE MUSIC IN ADVANCE
One of the best ways to save time at the rehearsal is to provide the accompanist with the music in advance. Even a skilful reader will do more intelligent work the first time a composition is taken up if he has had an opportunity to go through it beforehand. This may involve considerable trouble on the conductor's part, but his effort will be well rewarded in the much more effective support that the accompanist will be able to furnish if he has had an opportunity to look over the music. When the accompanist is not a good reader, it is, of course, absolutely imperative that he not only be given an opportunity to study the score in advance, but that he berequiredto do so. If in such a case the conductor does not see to it that a copy of the music is placed in the accompanist's hands several days before each rehearsal, he will simply be digging his own grave, figuratively speaking, and will have no one but himself to blame for the poor results that are bound to follow.
ORGAN ACCOMPANYING
If the accompaniments are played on the organ, the conductor will need to take into consideration the fact that preparing and manipulating stops, pistons, and combination pedals takes time, and he will therefore not expect the organist to be ready to begin to play the instant he takes his place on the bench; neither will he be unreasonable enough to assume that the organist ought to be ready to pass from one number to another (e.g., from a solo accompaniment to a chorus) without being given a reasonable amount of time for arranging the organ. The fact that in such a case the accompanist has been working continuously, whereas the director has had an opportunity of resting during the solo number, ought also to be taken into consideration; and it may not be unreasonable for the organist to wish for a moment's pause in order that he may adjust his mental attitude from that demanded by the preceding number to that which is appropriate to the number to follow. All this is especially to be noted in performances of sacred music, in which no time is taken between the numbers for applause. In any case, the least the conductor can do is to watch for the organist to look up after he has prepared the organ, and then to signal him pleasantly with a nod and a smile that he is ready to go on with the next number. This will not only insure complete preparedness of the organ, but will help "oil the machinery" and keep relations pleasant.
The conductor of a church choir should remember that the organist has probably studied and is familiar with the dynamic resources of his instrument to a much greater extent than the conductor; and that many times the organist is not depending upon hisearin deciding the amount of organ needed, so much as upon hisknowledgeof what the total effect will be in the auditorium. It is frequently impossible to tell from the choir loft how loud or how soft the sound of the organis in the body of the house. The conductor, not knowing the dynamic values of the various stop combinations as well as the organist, must not presume to criticize the latter for playing too loudly or too softly unless he has gone down into the auditorium to judge the effect there. Even this is not an absolute guide, for the balance is very likely to be different when the auditorium is full of people from what it was when empty. Moreover, the amount of choral tone frequently increases greatly under the stimulus of public performance. All in all, therefore, a good organist should be permitted to use his own judgment in this matter. In any case, do not resort to conspicuous gestures to let him know that there is too much or too little organ. He has probably discovered it as soon as you have, and will add or subtract as soon as it can be done without making an inartistic break in the dynamic continuity of the accompaniment. If a signal becomes absolutely necessary, make it as inconspicuously as possible.
ACCOMPANIST MUST SEE DIRECTOR
We have previously stressed the fact that the conductor must stand so that his beat may be easily seen by all performers; and this matter is of the utmost importance in connection with the accompanist. He must be able to see youeasilyif he is to follow your beat accurately; further, he should be able to see your face as well as your baton, if a really sympathetic musical relationship is to exist. This may appear to be a small point, but its non-observance is responsible for many poor attacks and for much "dragging" and "running away" on the part of accompanists.
The sum and substance of the whole matter may be epitomized in the advice, "Be courteous, considerate, and sensible in dealing with your accompanist and verily thou shalt receive thy reward!"
ORGANIZING ABILITY NEEDED TO AVOID WASTING TIME
Having now reviewed the various essentials in conducting from the standpoint of public performance, we wish emphatically to state our conviction that in many cases both choruses and orchestras have been short-lived, being abandoned after a season or two of more or less unsatisfactory work, directly as a result of the inefficient methods used by the conductor in the rehearsal. In an earlier chapter (p.18) we noted that the successful conductor of the present day must possess a personality combining traits almost opposite in their nature;viz.,artistryandorganizing ability. We were referring at that time to business sense in general as needed by the conductor in selecting works to be performed, deciding upon the place, duration, and number of rehearsal periods, engaging artists to assist in the public performances, and in general, seeing to it that the business details of the organization are attended to in an efficient manner. But such organizing ability is needed most of all in planning and conducting the rehearsal, and there is no doubt that mediocre results at the public performance and not infrequently the actual breaking up of amateur organizations may be traced more often to the inability of the conductor to make the best use of his time in the always inadequate rehearsal hour than to any other source. It is for this reason that we have thought best to devote an entire chapter to a discussion of what might be termed "The Technique of the Rehearsal."
EFFICIENCY NOT A DESTROYER OF IDEALISM
The wordefficiencyhas been used so frequently in recent years that it has come to be in almost as bad odor as the wordartistic, as employed by the would-be critic of esthetic effects. This antipathy to the word is perhaps most pronounced on the part of the artist, and there has been a well-defined feeling on the part of a good many of us that efficiency and advancement in art appreciation do not perhaps go hand-in-hand as much as might be desired. Granting the validity of this criticism of efficiency as a national ideal, it must nevertheless be evident that the artist has in the past been far too little concerned with life's business affairs, and that both he and his family on the one hand, and those having business relations with him on the other would be far better off if the artist would cultivate a more businesslike attitude in his relationships with the rest of the world. However this may be in general, it is certain that the conductor of the present must take more definitely into consideration what is going on outside the world of art; must recognize the fact that this is now a busy world and that there are a great many interesting things to do and a great many more distractions and amusements than there were a half-century ago; and that if the members of a chorus or orchestra (particularly in the case of an amateur society) are to continue to attend rehearsals regularly and to keep up their enthusiasm for the work of the organization, the conductor must see to it that something tangible is accomplished not only during each season, but in each and every practice hour, and that regular attendance at the rehearsals does not cause the members to feel that they are wasting time and energy.
This is, after all, the essence of scientific management—to accomplish some desired result without any waste moves and without squandering valuable material; and surely no artistic loss will be involved if efficiency of this type is applied to conducting a musical rehearsal. Onthe contrary, the application of such methods will enable the conductor to secure a much higher degree of artistry in the public performance because, by avoiding any waste of time in rehearsing, he will be able to put the musicians through the music more often, and thus not only arouse greater confidence on their part, but be enabled to emphasize more strongly the interpretative, the artistic aspect of the music. Most of the rehearsal hour is often spent in drilling upon merecorrectnessof tone and rhythm, especially in the case of amateur organizations.
In order to make these matters as concrete and practical as possible, we shall give in the remainder of this chapter a series of somewhat unrelated suggestions about conducting an ensemble rehearsal, trusting that the reader will forgive the didactic (and possibly pedantic) language in which they are couched.
PLANNING THE REHEARSAL
Do not make the mistake of attempting to study your score at the same time that your singers or players are learning it. Study your music exhaustively beforehand so that at the rehearsal you may know definitely just what you are going to do with each selection and may be able to give pointed directions as to its rendition. This will enable you to look at your performers most of the time, and the freedom from the score thus allowed will make your conducting very much more effective and will enable you to stir your singers out of their state of inertia very much more quickly. Weingartner, in writing upon this point (with especial reference to the public performance) says:[36]"He should know it [the score] so thoroughly that during the performance the score is merely a support for his memory, not a fetter on his thought." The same writer in another place quotes von Bülow as dividing conductors into "those who havetheir heads in the score, and those who have the score in their heads"!
Study the individual voice parts, so as to find out so far as possible beforehand where the difficult spots are and mark these with blue pencil, so that when you want to drill on these places, you may be able to put your finger on them quickly. It is very easy to lose the attention of your performers by delay in finding the place which you want them to practise. It is a good plan, also, to mark with blue pencil some of the more importantdynamicandtempochanges so that these may be obvious to the eye when you are standing several feet from the desk.
Decide beforehand upon some plan of studying each composition, and if a number of works are to be taken up at any given rehearsal, think over in advance the order in which they are to be studied. In brief, make a plan for each rehearsal, writing it out if necessary, and thus avoid wasting time in deciding what is to be done.
In case you are a choir director, learn also to plan your services weeks or even months in advance,[37]and then keep working toward the complete carrying out of your plan by familiarizing your musicians with the material as far in advance of the public performance as possible. In this way the music isabsorbed, as it were, and the singers and players are much more apt to feel at ease in performing it than when it has been taken up at only one or two rehearsals.
DISCIPLINE IN THE REHEARSAL
It is impossible to conduct well unless you have the absolute attention of every singer or player. Hence the discipline at all rehearsals must be rather strict and the performers must be trained to keep their eyes on you practically all the time. (In the case of choral music, it would be well to have a great deal more of it entirelycommitted to memory so that at the performance the singers might be enabled to give the conductor their absolute attention.) You have a perfect right to demand that all shall work industriously during every working minute of the rehearsal hour and that there shall be no whispering or fooling whatsoever, either while you are giving directions, or while you are conducting. If you are unfortunate enough to have in your organization certain individuals who do not attend to the work in hand even after a private admonition, it will be far better to drop them from the organization, for they are bound to do more harm than good if they are retained. On the other hand, you will recognize the temptation to whisper which the performer feels while you are giving a long-winded explanation of some pet theory of yours, and you will accordingly cut down the amount of talking you do to the minimum. A good rule to follow is this: "Talk little at the rehearsal, but when you do talk, be sure that every one listens." Keep your performers so busy that they will have no time to think about anything but the work in hand. Plan plenty of work so as to be able to keep things moving through the entire hour. Better a rehearsal conducted in this way and only one hour long, than a slow-moving, boresome affair, two hours in length. If the tax of such concentrated attention is too severe to be kept up constantly for an entire hour, plan to have a five-minute intermission when everyone may talk and laugh and thus relax. The author has found that with a body of amateur singers, a ninety-minute rehearsal, with a five- to seven-minute intermission in the middle, works very well indeed.
BEGINNING THE REHEARSAL
Do not shout at your chorus or orchestra if the members are noisy. Wait until the noise subsides entirely before you begin to speak, and address them in a quiet, dignified, authoritative way when you do begin.Unless you have some pointed remark to make about the rendition of the music, it is far better to give merely the place of beginning without making any remarks at all. Securing quiet by a prolonged rapping with the baton is a sign of weak discipline. Do not rap at all until the music is distributed, the accompanist in his place and ready to begin, your score open, and until you know exactly what you are going to do first. Then let just a slight tap or two suffice to notify everyone that the rehearsal is to begin at once.
LEARNING DIFFICULT PASSAGES
In drilling on a difficult passage, it is usually better to stop at the actual spot where the mistake occurs than to go on to the end and then turn back. Find the exact spot that is causing trouble and "reduce the area of correction to its narrowest limits," as one writer[38]states it. It is to be noted that merely one repetition of such a passage is usually of little avail.It must be gone over enough times to fix the correct method of rendition in mind and muscle as a habit.If a section sings a certain passage incorrectly twice and then correctly only once, the chances are that the fourth time will be like the first two rather than like the third. The purpose of drilling on such a passage is to eradicate the wrong impression entirely and substitute for it an entirely new habit at that point. After learning a difficult tonal or rhythmic phrase in this way, be sure to fit it into its environment before assuming that it has been finally mastered. The difficulty in such passages often consists not in performing the intervals or rhythms in isolation, but in doing them while the other parts are going on.
LOCATE DIFFICULT SPOTS QUICKLY
In directing attention to some particular place in the score about which you wish to speak, give the details of your direction always in the same order,viz.:(1) page, (2) score (orbraceif you prefer), (3) measure, (4) beat. Thuse.g., "Page 47, second score, fourth measure, beginning with the second beat." Give the direction slowly and very distinctly, and then do not repeat it;i.e., get your musicians into the habit of listening to you the first time you say a thing instead of the second or third. Carrying out this plan may result in confusing unpreparedness on the part of your singers or players for a time or two, but if the plan is adhered to consistently they will very soon learn to listen to your first announcement—and you will save a large amount of both time and energy.
REHEARSAL LETTERS AND NUMBERS
Ensemble music is frequently supplied withrehearsal lettersornumbers, these enabling the performers to locate a passage very quickly. When not printed in the score, it will often be a saving of time for the conductor to insert such letters or numbers in his own copy of the music in advance of the first rehearsal, asking the members to insert the marks in their music as he dictates their location by page and score, or by counting measures in the case of orchestra music. These letters or numbers are best inserted with soft red or blue pencil.
THE "WHOLE METHOD" OF LEARNING
When a new composition is to be taken up, go through it as a whole a few times, so as to give everyone a general idea of its content and of the connection and relation of its parts. After this, begin to work at the difficult spots that you have found, then when it begins to go fairly well, work definitely for expressive rendition. You will of course not expect ordinary performers to go through the composition the first time in a very artistic fashion. If they keep going and do not make too many mistakes, they will have done all that non-professionals should be expected to do.Psychologists have found as the result of careful investigation that the "whole method" of study is much to be preferred to what might be termed the "part method," because of the fact that a much clearer and closer association between parts is thus formed, and there is no doubt but that this point applies very forcibly to the study of music. In an interview published in theNew York Worldin June, 1916, Harold Bauer writes as follows about this matter as related to piano music:
Now, in taking up a new work for the piano, the child could and should play right through every page from beginning to end for the purpose of obtaining a definite first impression of the whole. A mess would probably be made of it technically, but no matter. He would gradually discover just where the places were that required technical smoothing, and then by playing them over slowly these spots would be technically strengthened. By the time the composition was thoroughly learned the technique would be thoroughly acquired, too. Obtaining first a perfect mental picture of the whole, and afterward working out the details, is better than learning a work by starting with the details before gaining a broad impression of the composition as a whole.
Now, in taking up a new work for the piano, the child could and should play right through every page from beginning to end for the purpose of obtaining a definite first impression of the whole. A mess would probably be made of it technically, but no matter. He would gradually discover just where the places were that required technical smoothing, and then by playing them over slowly these spots would be technically strengthened. By the time the composition was thoroughly learned the technique would be thoroughly acquired, too. Obtaining first a perfect mental picture of the whole, and afterward working out the details, is better than learning a work by starting with the details before gaining a broad impression of the composition as a whole.
This method of studying musical compositions is especially important from the standpoint ofexpression. In many an instance, the source of wrong interpretation (or of no interpretation at all) may be traced directly to a method of studying the composition which has not impressed the singers or players with its essential meaning and spirit, and with the significance of the various details in relation to the plan of the work as a whole. This is particularly true of choral compositions, and in taking up such works, it may often be well for the conductor to read aloud the entire text of the chorus that is being studied in order that the attention of the singers may be focused for a few moments upon the imagery conveyed by the words. Such attention is frequently impossible while singing, because the minds of the singers are intent upon the beauty or difficulty of the purely musical aspects of the composition, and thus the so-called "expression" becomes merelya blind and uninspired obedience to certain marks likepiano,forte, andritardando—the real spirit of interpretation being entirely absent.