in night!” the clear timbre is used with gradually increasing volume until at the phrase (sung adagio) “Ministers of death!” the timbre changes abruptly to a sombre quality with sinister effect, which effect is augmented by being sung pp.

[Listen]

A still more striking example of the impressive effect produced by sudden contrasts of intensity is offered in the magnificent air “Total Eclipse,” from Samson (Handel). In it, a judicious use of tone-colour, accent, and variations of tempo, all combine to elucidate in the highest possible degree the idea of both composer and poet:

[Listen]

The words “Sun, moon and stars” should be given strongly accentuated, and the tempo gradually accelerated. The repetition of the phrase should be sung with still greater intensity; then, at the passage “are dark to me,” the colour of the voice changes to one of very sombre quality, and the original tempo is resumed. The first consonant in the word “dark” should receive a slight stress.

The crescendo has always been a favourite device of composers, particularly of those who write for the lyric theatre. It was an effect held in high esteem by Rossini, who introduced it constantly in his operas—witness his overtures and ensembles. All are familiar with the wonderful crescendo which precedes the appearance of the Knight of the Swan, in Lohengrin, where the sonorities are augmented by gradual additions of voices and instruments until the culminating point is reached. An instance more poignant still is found in the great “Liebestod” in Tristan und Isolde.

Although Hérold, the French composer, observed that in working up to a climax one should begin a long way off, a singer must be careful not to reach his maximum of vocal sonority before the musical climax is attained. The tenor Duprez created a sensation that is historic, in the long crescendo passage in the fourth act of Guillaume Tell, by gradually increasing the volume of sound, as the phrase developed in power and grandeur, until the end, which he delivered with all the wealth of his exceptionally resonant voice.

Before closing this chapter on Intensity, I should advise singers whose voices possess great natural volume or power not to abuse this valuable quality by employing it too frequently. The ear of a listener tires sooner of extreme sonority than of any other effect. Talma, the great actor, wrought many reforms on the French dramatic stage, not only in costume—prior to his time Greek or Roman dress only was worn in tragedy—but also in the manner of delivering tragic verse. Against the custom, then prevalent, of always hurling forth long tirades at full voice, he inveighed in these terms: “Of all monotonous things, uproar is the most intolerable” (de toutes les monotonies, celle de la force est la plus insupportable). An artistic singer will use his most powerful tones, as a painter employs his most vivid colours, sparingly.

PHRASING

PHRASING is simply musical punctuation. In singing, it may be separated, like accent, into two divisions: Musical and Poetic, or Verbal, phrasing. If the following passage were performed by an instrument, it would not require any particular grouping or phrasing:

[Listen]

But when sung, it would fail in effect if not performed with a very slight pause after the word “nobis,” thus:

[Listen]

As another illustration of the excellent effect of correct phrasing may be cited the song Psyché, by Paladilhe. Its effect is heightened if the musical phrasing be judiciously combined with a change in Colour and Intensity:

[Listen]

(Should be sung):

[Listen]

It is the clashing of the Musical and Verbal phrasings that often makes translations of lyric works unsatisfactory. The two phrases are independent, not welded together. So far from being “Music wedded to immortal Verse,” these instances resemble those ménages wherein each unit leads a separate existence. When this is the case, the singer must decide as to whether the musical phrase, or the poetic phrase, demands the greater prominence.

The following Phrasing and Colouring would be good and effective if the passage were played on an instrument:

[Listen]

But if sung thus, as it sometimes is by careless artists who pay little attention to the verbal significance of what they are singing, it would sound absurd, because the poetic phrasing is entirely ignored. The correct way of performing the passage (from the aria “Voi che sapete,” in Act II of Mozart’s Nozze di Figaro) is the following:

[Listen]

In the next extract (from Act IV in Un Ballo in Maschera, by Verdi), it will be noticed how oblivious the composer was of the claims of verbal phrasing. The whole scena is admirably written for the voice, and contains many graceful passages of great melodic charm. But although the music may claim to represent the character of the situation as a whole, it is disfigured by the complete disregard of the sense of certain groups of words: