I was in Warsaw recently as a judge for the Moniuszko International Vocal Competition, where I heard some very wonderful voices from all over the world. Some of the singing was not up to professional standards, but the singers appeared to have a degree of competence, regardless of what country they were from. Hide them behind a screen and you could not tell which singer was from Italy, Australia, or anywhere else.
I believe all people are born with rather similar qualities. The obvious differences from one voice to the next are largely independent of race or nationality. Some very small people can have thick or long vocal cords, and some very tall, muscular people can have the opposite. The same would be true of their lung capacity, resonance, and other vocal characteristics.
It seems to me, therefore, that all differences inherent in voice quality must arise from two major factors: language and vocal schooling.
Language
Language can have a strong influence on the voice, depending on where a singer was raised and the early speech patterns with which he or she grew up.
Most singers seem to sing best in their native language. Have you ever heard Caruso’s recording of “Over There”? It was for the First World War effort and was wonderful in its sentimentality, but could it even begin to compare with “Cielo e mar” or “Celeste Aida”?
Who could even imagine that Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, master of the German Lied, could possibly have made as important a career singing only Italian opera? That is not to say that a good singer from Finland or Sweden cannot successfully master the ability to sing well in Italian or French, and of course, many singers in the world demonstrate a good capacity for foreign languages. Their voices are probably more comfortable in their mother tongues, however—the sound is geared to their early familiar, natural patterns and they are not trying to fit into a foreign language’s diction, which can take a lot of (not always successful) preparation.
The Italian language lends itself to a free flow of sound, but Italians may have some problems trying to sing in German or English. As a matter of fact, I cannot recall ever hearing any notable Italian singer who even attempts to sing in a different language.
When French singers try to sing in a foreign language their mother tongue presents a few problems: built-in nasality and the language’s treatment of the letter “r.” Similarly, Koreans may experience some articulation difficulties when trying to sing in Italian or German. That doesn’t mean that all Korean and French singers have trouble singing in different languages, as many good French and Korean singers prove.
Language influences the early development of speech, which in turn influences early attempts to use the singing voice. In many cases this can be crucial to singers’ ongoing vocal progress—which brings us to the second aspect of vocalism in the Eastern and Western worlds.
Vocal Schooling
Many have attempted to divide different countries into separate schools of vocalism—but shouldn’t good singing really be universal?
In Germany we have Wagner. He never quite accomplished his goal of Gesamtkunstwerke [total, integrated, or complete artwork]. His music can be truly spiritual. Who can deny the sheer magic of Parsifal? But it does give us a glimpse into one aspect of German singing: the huge orchestra and full orchestrations of his operas can sometimes encourage a shouting contest. (Hitler loved heroic, loud singing, and rewarded the loudest.) To be heard above the orchestra, Wagner singers are often forced to over-accentuate the words, creating a harsh and unpleasant diction and resulting in the antithesis of expressive legato. This of course has a great deal to do with the sensitivity of the conductor, and the competence of the performers, some of whom are really wonderful.
Is this the “German School,” however? What about Mozart, Schumann, and Brahms? Germany, Austria, and Switzerland must include some variations in taste, including various applications of vocal technique, so can we actually call this a particular school of singing?
I had the pleasure of hearing the Russian Mariinsky Academy in concert in New York City last year. Here was an example of artistic legato singing that made all the vowels equally important, keeping the diction intelligible. The singers are extremely well trained in every way, including drama, musicianship, and expression. Everything in the concert was well prepared and coordinated. I salute the Mariinsky Academy for its obvious attention to detail and artistic integrity.
Again, is this a distinctly Russian school? Certainly there could be some influence from the notoriety of the Mariinsky, but is this a total product of what we might call the “Russian School”? Within such a vast country, I believe that would be just as imprecise as any other general labeling of a so-called school.
This brings us to the United States. Some say American singers are the best in the world. If that ever turns out to be true it will be due only to the sheer volume of potential performers. Hundreds of universities and colleges in America have music and vocal departments. Add the many conservatories and music schools and America is home to an enormous number of vocal students who are seriously engaged in trying to become professional singers. With such a great amount of competition, America is bound to have some examples of excellence—but is there an “American School”?
American English is a real example of a language that, in all of its various accents and dialects, lends itself to speech problems that tend to produce readily swallowed and often pressured sound. This fosters many techniques supposedly designed as the real answer to proper vocalism. Thus, America boasts many American schools, but no national school.
Regarding the African-American singer, I have heard many arguments about the unusual quality of black voices and their range capacities. Why could Jessye Norman sing both as a mezzo and a soprano? Why could Grace Bumbry sing mezzo and then try to sing Lady Macbeth? Is it an African-American phenomenon that Shirley Verrett happened to have a very wide range? How could Simon Estes sing Wotan and then also sing Amonasro? Is all this because of some kind of African-American vocal superiority?
I have known many singers in my lifetime—black, Asian, and Anglo-Saxon—with very wide ranges and unusual voices. James Morris sings Wotan and then somehow manages to get through singing Scarpia. Even Plácido Domingo started out as a baritone and then became a celebrated tenor. Then there was Ettore Bastianini, who began his career as a bass and ended up as one of the great baritones. We can look at singers such as Marilyn Horne, who could sing very high coloratura passages and also negotiate the mezzo range. Maria Callas, who had an enormous range, began at some point to sing even Carmen. And what about Sutherland? Her sizable voice, with its abundance of resonance capacities, could soar well up into the stratosphere.
Again, the technique all these successful singers employed made them unusual, not their ethnicity.
I can understand that some African-American singers find it comforting to feel that they have some advantage in vocal quality and range. It certainly is a harsh reality that they have a much harder time getting hired in certain opera houses. This, unfortunately, is not vocal justice. African-Americans should get the same opportunities as anyone else. Skin color should have nothing to do with the evaluation of singers. They should be judged on their personal, individual abilities. This is the 21st century—we don’t have to believe in the myths of the past.
Western-style opera in China is a relatively new phenomenon. Professor Guo Shuzen deserves much credit for her role in introducing the art of Western opera into the Chinese cultural scene, and also for introducing of some of her students into professional careers around the world, including at the Metropolitan Opera.
Is the prominence of Guo and her students a product of what we should call a “Chinese School”? Instead, in the increasing internationalization of the art of singing, we might be seeing an example of a unifying blend.
What happened to Bel Canto? Even in Italy, the mother of true Bel Canto, it is not always treated in the true tradition of its origin. Unfortunately the art of legato seems to be missing in many parts of the world. Certainly the Italian language and culture can lead to more emotionally expressive, even hysterical, performance practices, but Italy, just like any other country, does not have just one standardized technique of singing.
The differences in cultures between singers from the East, the West, or wherever, may be a matter of vocal technique rather than the romantic idea that certain voices are more beautiful than others because of where the singers happen to come from.
You could argue that the influence and language of a particular national composer might predispose that country’s singers to have a kind of national singing trait. This could affect the actual quality of a voice and shape it into an irresistibly indigenous sound.
The music of Tchaikovsky, for example, could influence a kind of romantic expressiveness indigenous to the Russian culture. The nature and quality of Puccini or Verdi could bring out the tragedy of the Italian soul. The sweet, tranquility of Debussy could encourage a devotion in French singers to a kind of musical serenity. Each such composer’s music, in its own manifestation, might define a kind of gravitation toward a particular, national quality of sound that could lead to an attempt to characterize it as a particular school of singing.
Why can’t all of these differing emotions and expressions be equally transferable from one culture to another? Whether Puccini, Mozart, Fauré, or Tchaikovsky, the difference lies in how the material is sung—the interpretation not the technique. Interpretation is a matter of individual, or even national, taste, but the actual quality of singing is a matter of technique, which ought to be universally applied, regardless of a singer’s origin or particular voice quality. This again illustrates that you cannot define just one sound as purely Eastern or purely Western.
Indeed, tastes vary from country to country. In certain parts of Europe, Anna Netrebko is not totally appreciated, despite her Diva status. Other parts of the world, including the United States, place her on a pedestal as a wonderful singing actress, regardless of some of her possible imperfections.
Taste can also vary within countries. When I was studying in Italy, I observed that many Italians either preferred Caruso or else they loved Gigli, but rarely both. Caruso had a dark voice like a cello and Gigli had a brighter quality, more like a violin. Both were celebrated tenors and both wonderful singers, but personal taste led some to appreciate one more than the other.
Now we come to a really challenging subject: the controversial “chest voice,” which I prefer to call the “lower voice.” Here the attitudes between the countries of the world differ greatly. For many years vocal teachers insisted that the chest voice is harmful. The lower voice is a part of the human voice that cannot be ignored, however. If treated properly it can often enhance certain passages. It can be quite useful, such as when Callas proclaimed “davanti a lui tremava tutta Roma;” or when Ewa Podles, in Handel, negotiates her enormous coloratura, leading to an amazing carrying of the “chest” to unusual depths; or when Marilyn Horne charmed us with a wonderful array of Rossini low notes.
In Germany and France teachers dislike the chest voice. In America, for many years teachers looked on the chest voice as not vocally therapeutic. In recent times, however, it has become more in vogue. When the Mariinsky Academy was at Carnegie Hall, the New York Times revue glowed with applause for their skillful use of the “chest voice.”
It still remains to be seen whether this “lower voice” sound will eventually become vocally desirable, or at least acceptable—another example of the differences in practices from country to country.
In conclusion, all of this leads me to believe that there are no real national schools. Instead, many differing ideas regarding vocal technique can vary from studio to studio, taking into account that some countries might gravitate toward giving more attention to detail and accuracy in musicianship while others are more influenced by language and emotion. You could almost conclude that there are as many vocal techniques as there are singers (or is it teachers?).
The goal of any good singing technique should at least include an attempt to bring out the true natural beauty of the voice, without emulating any other singer, or without trying to make the voice into something that is not its real quality. You cannot fight nature. When you achieve your true natural quality, that is the real essence of beauty, no matter in what region or country, East or West.
