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, 304and 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 305organs. 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 306seem 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 307light 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 308was 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.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.

Renumbered footnotes and moved them all to the end of the final chapter.