I am about to pack my bags and go back to Torino for a Master Class that will bring me back where another Falsetto kerfuffle in my life was born.
Last September I had the privilege to work with some really talented young people who offered me many opportunities to use Garcia. It was a tenor, of course, who started the ball rolling toward an incident in Rovereto. I taught that tenor how to sing “Una furtiva lagrima” from L’ELESIR’ D’AMORE. It wasn’t the only aria we worked on, but it became a bone of contention. I mentioned this tenor’s success in the little concert we did in Torino in a previous blog from that city. It was a struggle to convince him, but eventually he successfully put Falsetto to exactly the use for which the Bel Canto composer, Donizetti, intended. The result was most gratifying, but a kerfuffle was set to catch up to me a month later.
Now, my struggle with my Torino tenor was nothing new to my work. I strove for an extended period, back in Plattsburgh, to convince another tenor to utilize Falsetto in Bel Canto music with eventual and welcome success. Apparently Verdi loving voice teachers are loath to accept Falsetto as a worthy component of good singing, and I encountered in these tenors a shared attitude of aversion for Falsetto use. My Plattsburgh tenor told me that his previous Maestri had told him that what I was suggesting to him was “not singing”.
Even with this background, I was not ready for the incredulous inquiry I received after the Rovereto concert. A Rovereto home boy baritone participated in the concert, and during the crowded aftermath he got in my face (it was very noisy in the hallway) and asked me if I had, by chance, ever worked with a certain tenor. It was my Torino guy. I told the home boy that I had worked with him in more than one master class, upon which declaration the baritone told me that he had recently been on the jury of a competition in which that tenor had sung “Una furtiva lagrima”. He did not win the competition because of the way he sang that aria. The baritone wanted to know if it were true that I had taught him to sing so badly. Given that I was not there to hear what that tenor had done, I was at a loss to discuss the quality of his rendition of “Una furtive lagrima” but I did manage to bellow that I had taught him how to sing the aria “alla” Bel Canto. I was happy that at that point in our semi-shouted conversation a bevy of fans grabbed him away from me and I was accosted by a few audience members that wanted to recount to me good memories of performances in which I sang. I felt badly for my Torino tenor.
The baritone’s dislike for good Bel Canto style was easily understandable given his performance of Mozart’s music in the concert. Everyone, including me, would praise the quality of the man’s voice, but I wouldn’t suggest his rendition as a model for anyone to follow in the interpretation area. This is because I believe Mozart’s music lives best in a style of singing that this Rovereto home boy just didn’t bring to the concert. I suspected that many of my favorite components of Mozart style are missing from the man’s vocal technique.
I subsequently learned from my Torino tenor that he was a “good friend” of this Rovereto home boy and that they had shared a voice teacher. A light bulb switched on in my head! It has long been my observation that teachers often teach the style of singing they employed, when and if they sang for a living, as if it were a technique. I have often heard and read references to Verdi technique, Rossini technique, Bellini technique etc. essentially mixing style and technique together. These Torino / Rovereto events brought home to me most forcefully how limiting this way of thinking and teaching can actually be. Vocal technique is not style specific, but empowering to all styles. Style and technique are not the same thing. Each style, excepting the hardest Bel Canto, has a limited set of technical requirements, and teaching only those requirements leaves the student bereft of many elements of technique necessary for the other styles.
I knew that the technical components I had taught my Plattsburgh and Torino tenors to use for “Una furtiva lagrima” would inspire an audience to applaud. My audiences did when I used them. Since I learned these technical things from a woman born just 5 years after Garcia’s death and I learned how to apply them to “Una furtiva lagrima” from a man of her generation who attended her alma mater at the same time she did, I assume my taste and style of execution for the singing of this aria are traditional. Looking back at the history of music through the lens each composer offers us on the time line can be a wonderfully enlightening study, but if one of them, like Verdi, becomes a glass so darkened that his becomes the only style visible to a teacher or singer, then just about all other composers’ music will suffer damage at the hands of the teacher and the voice of the singer. It was nice to hear from my Torino tenor about his audience at the competition that he didn’t win. He told me that they enthusiastically approved of his rendition, even if his “good friend” Rovereto home boy, and the teacher they once upon a time shared, who was also on that jury, didn’t like it.
Falsetto has a place in the House of Music, even for boys. There is a lot of confusion about when it is called for, what it should sound like and when it is inappropriate. I hope to get to these issues very soon.
The artist in the above video is my reason for never singing Nemorino. I knew I couldn’t compete with Luciano. My Torino tenor is no match for Luicano either, but he learned to do everything Luciano did in the above video and more. I’ll be back to explain the “more”.