Music: Canary Bird’s Way

One of radio’s biggest, most persistent boosters has been Soprano Frances Alda. Three winters ago when most important singers were half-apologetic about their occasional broadcasts, Alda was proudly singing in a series of Puccini operas aired by American Radiator &Standard Sanitary Corp. (TIME, Nov. 18. 1929). Last week Soprano Alda announced another enviable radio contract. With Meyer Davis’ orchestra she will broadcast every Tuesday night this winter for the Waldorf-Astoria. And next week at a studio in the Waldorf-Astoria she will start taking pupils for opera, concert and for radio.

One thing is certain about the pupils Madame Alda sends into radio. They will not croon their way into overnight prosperity. They will not use voices so small and pinched that they are inaudible a few feet away in the studio. The control man will not be the real hero of their performances. Alda pupils must learn to sing in the canary bird’s way. They must begin by developing tight abdominal muscles, soft, relaxed throats.

To stand correctly, to breathe so that the diaphragm region under the lower unfixed ribs expands while the first lumbar vertebra protrudes, to cultivate an open throat—unless a pupil has learned these fundamentals at least, no capable, conscientious vocal teacher will turn him loose on the musical market. A singer should make sure that his palate is arched, his tongue slightly grooved, the back wall of his throat visible, his upper lip free.

Some pupils have been taught to hold a lighted candle in front of their mouths to make sure that no gusts of breath come out with the sound, to sing into an open umbrella so that the sound of their own voices comes back to them. One old Italian teacher used to train his pupils on the syllables bee-bah-lo-nee exclusively. Methods and phobias outnumber teachers. Alda’s teacher, the late great Mathilde Marchesi, who also taught Melba and Calve, would never permit a pupil of hers to have her hair washed.