CHAPTER III

THE VOICE-THE INSTRUMENT WE PLAY

Seeming to Speak Naturally-The Handicap of a Halftrained Voice-Our Voice: Our Point of Contact with Our Public-The Dread of Elocution"-The Art of Concealing Art-Harry Lauder's Remarkable Voice-Charles Kean's Stage Voice-The Power of Tones-Saving the Voice-The Two Primary Tones -Distinct Utterance a Simple Achievement-Laughing Infectiously-Taste in Using One's Technical Skill.

THE

HE beginner is often told by the director not to strain and shout, but to

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speak naturally "; and then when he does speak naturally he is told that he cannot be heard. This is a baffling paradox, and one which everyone who takes up stage work seriously is likely to meet sooner or later. As a matter of fact the natural speaking voice is of little or no use on the stage, and neither is the shout. The secret of it is that a man should so train his voice that he

has the range, and the pitch that is necessary, but also the technique and the control which enable him to seem to speak naturally. If we are to be good actors we must train the voice, and study its use, with the determination to make it the best instrument it is capable of becoming. Often one is tempted to stop half-way; to develop the voice just sufficiently to pass muster and secure engagements, but this seems most short-sighted. The time is sure to come sometime when the serious worker feels keenly the handicap of a half-trained voice; when he realizes that, because of his early neglect of this vital part of his equipment, he is unable to reach the position to which his other proved qualities entitle him.

No matter how much we know about the art of acting, we must depend most of all upon our voice to express it to others. It is our point of contact with the people who give us our rating as an artist. That is why it seems so strange that the study of proper voice production is so ignored by actors of

the present. In the days of Kemble, Kean, Macready, Phelps, Edwin Forrest, and the others it was not so; the training of the voice was given first consideration. Those old giants realized that they must depend upon their voice to carry them to greatness; they realized, from what they saw others do, that wonders could be accomplished by training; they devoted themselves to this great primary as a matter of course. I once saw Samuel Phelps play Wolsey and, on another occasion, Malvolio. It was a good many years ago, but I remember most vividly the ease with which his splendid voice carried every syllable of those exacting parts to every part of the theater. It is the memory of his thoroughly satisfying voice which remains with me; it was a pleasure merely to listen to him; and I am sure his mastery was only gained by hard study and hard work, his voice was pleasing and powerful and moving because his use of it was governed by the laws of the technique he had learned step by step.

It may be that one reason young actors of the present shy at the cultivation of their voices is because of the striving for realism and naturalness which characterizes so much of what we do in the theater today. We are likely to hear a great deal more about concealing our art than about the art we are to conceal. The alert young modern" apostle

of realism and naturalness has in mind the sonorous tones and studied utterance of the actors of the Old School, and imagines that to be the dreadful result of any serious voice training. But I think this idea is due to a confusion of values-albeit a very natural confusion. I do not think the old actors of my youth went too far with their study, rather they did not go far enough. Having spent hard years to learn how to speak excellently, they saw no reason for disguising their " elocution," they were more inclined to display it with pride. They regarded it more as a virtue than a fault to speak ponderously and precisely. They sincerely thought, too, that upon their shoul

ders rested the burden of upholding the dignity and beauty of the English language; this was not a pose with them, they took it quite seriously and labored most conscientiously at their task. On the street, or in the club, or in the shop the finished thespian of those days was always the actor with the trained voice, he could not be mistaken. it is for us of the present to go further than they thought necessary. It is for us to learn all they knew of voice production, and correct intonation and inflection, but learn also how to make it all seem perfectly effortless and natural.

But

In the reaction from the old school way of doing things it has become rather the fashion to despise the study of elocution altogether; but there is no doubt in my mind that it is still essential for the man or woman whose life-work is acting. Stage effects do not come by chance, they are the result of studied effort. If an actor is to repeat night after night the effect that has once won applause, he must know how he got the