Vocal Culture Once More

—A friend in Munich writes to us: The name of the Italian teacher of singing in Paris, to whom commendatory reference was made by a member of the Club in December last, is Sbriglia. I may add that the discussion of this topic is exceedingly important at the present time, and that the views expressed in the Contributors’ Club have gratified many musical people, more especially those who are interested in vocal culture. A Parisian journal calls attention to A Warning Note, and advises all young Americans who think of coming to Europe for the cultivation of the voice to read it before securing their passage. The evils of false, hasty, and superficial methods of vocal training are making themselves felt more and more, and wherever they prevail lead to a rapid decline of the opera. This is decidedly the case in Munich, where there has been, within a few years, a fatal falling off in the performances of the once famous Hofoper. Since the resignation of Frau Basta there has been no colorature singer on the stage, and, what is worse, the director, Baron von Perfall, does not intend to secure any one in her stead, because, from a Wagnerian point of view, such singing is of little or no account. Whether one is fond of florid music or dislikes it is a matter of taste; but that in a Royal Opera, like that of Munich, there should be no one capable of executing it is a disgrace. It is now impossible, for example, to give sueli operas as Rigoletto, the Magic Flute, and the Huguenots in Munich without calling in foreign aid, because there is no one there who can sing the parts of Gilda, the Queen of the Night, and the Queen of Navarre. Quite recently, when circumstances rendered it desirable to represent these operas, it was necessary to invite Madame Biazzi from Rotterdam to take the aforementioned rôles. If the inhabitants of Munich occasionally get a chance to hear these and other musical productions of a like character, they have to bless their “stars.”

Wagner was probably the greatest master of harmony that ever lived, and shows this exceptional power in the grandeur and originality of his orchestral effects. How magnificent are the instruments in Siegfried, but how tedious the solo-droning of Wodan, and even the recitative monologue of the youthful hero himself! One often wishes that they would remain behind the scenes, and not interrupt with their monotonous declamation the splendid performance of the orchestra. Wagner, on the other hand, had no appreciation of melody, and no proper conception of the capabilities and limitations of the human voice. The one thing needful for the vocal parts of his musical dramas is not perfect training of the voice, but powerful lungs, such as his countrymen, perhaps more than any other people, are naturally endowed with ; but even their pulmonary power is not sufficient to endure, for any length of time, the wear and tear of his superhuman strains.

A musical critic of the Wagnerian school recently spoke of Patti as a wonderful natural singer, but without thorough training. The good man had so long accustomed his mind to the crude Wagnerian conception of vocal culture as to forget that the bird-like ease and evenness with which she pours forth her notes was the highest perfection of art, and would be impossible without the most thorough training. “The art itself is nature.” In noticing a concert given, a short time since, by Patti in Albert Hall, the Times remarked that her voice is richer and more beautiful than it was at her début in London, more than a quarter of a century ago. This result is due, not so much to excellent natural qualities of voice as to superior instruction according to the rational method of the old Italian school.

Significant for the approaching reaction against the excesses of Wagnerism is the present attitude of many of those who were once its most zealous apostles. I need only instance Friedrich Nietzsche, who was formerly one of the most genial and enthusiastic advocates of this movement, and wrote a book in exposition of the gospel of the so-called Bayreuther Messias; but who, in a recently published brochure, entitled Der Fall Wagner, is constrained to confess that Wagnerism was one of his diseases, an infection like measles and scarlet fever, to which all persons are liable in certain stages of their growth and development, but from which he is now wholly recovered, and happily can never take again.