these effects are produced. Such a
mistake is not infrequently made by vocal physiologists who are not
practical musicians or singing-teachers. Nor must the term "clear
timbre" be understood to mean the "white voice" ("_voix blanche_," or
"_voce bianca_"); this, like the guttural timbre, being only
occasionally employed for the expression of some violent passion, such
as hate.

Like the admirable paintings of Eugene Carriere, for instance his
masterly portrait of Paul Verlaine, a song, sometimes an entire role,
may be worked out in monochrome; though the gradations of tint are
numerous, they are consistently kept within their preconceived
colour-scheme. Some few exceptional singers, like Jean-Baptiste Faure
or Maurice Renaud, have this gift of many shades of the one colour in
their singing of certain roles. The colour is determined by the
psychological character of the personage portrayed; a gay, reckless
Don Giovanni calls for a brighter colouring throughout than that
necessitated by the music allotted to a gloomy Vanderdecken or an
embittered and vengeful Rigoletto. One may, therefore, formulate the
following rule: The general character of the composition will decide
the tonal colour appropriate for its general interpretation; the
colouring necessary for its component phrases will be determined by
the particular sentiment embodied in them. Emotions like sorrow, fear,
despair, will find fitting expression in the sombre quality of voice,
graduated in accordance with the intensity of the emotion. The
opposite sentiments of joy, love, courage, hope, are fittingly
interpreted by gradations of the clear and brilliant timbre. The dark
or sombre voice will be used in varying shades for the recitative from
_Samson_ (Handel), "Oh, loss of sight:"

[Music: Oh, loss of sight, of thee I most complain!]

while the clearest and most brilliant timbre possible to be obtained
is plainly indicated for the same composer's "Sound an alarm!" from
_Judas Maccabaeus_.

[Music: Sound an alarm, your silver trumpets sound!]

It was a rule formulated by the old Italian school of singing, when
_l'arte del bel canto_ in its true sense did really exist, that no
phrase--musical or verbal--should be repeated with the same nuances.
Very many instances might be given of the happy effect obtained by
observing this rule. One will suffice. It is taken from the Lamento of
Queen Catherine (of Aragon), who, slighted by Henry VIII. for Anne
Boleyn, si