from spoiling his
melodies with their florid additions, "he supplied his own
decorations, and made them so elaborate that the most skilled adorner
would have found it difficult to add to them" (Edwards). For thus
emancipating the composers from the tyranny of the singers Rossini
deserves great credit, and still greater honor is due him for having
shown, in his "William Tell," which he wrote for Paris, and in which
he discarded the florid style, that when he _did_ have a public which
appreciated simplicity of style and dramatic propriety in music, his
genius was equal to the occasion. It is a great pity that he did not
write several more operas in the style of "William Tell," for it is
the only one of his works which has preserved a portion of its former
popularity in Paris and elsewhere, thanks to its regard for dramatic
propriety.
Like the composers, the singing teachers in Italy consented to adapt
their method to the universal clamor for decorative, florid singing.
The audiences did not seem to care at all _what_ was sung to them, as
long as it was sung with sensuous beauty of tone, and facility of
execution; consequently sensuous beauty of tone and facility of
execution were almost the only things that the teachers aimed at. This
is illustrated by an anecdote concerning the famous teacher Porpora
and his pupil Caffarelli, which, although doubtless exaggerated,
nevertheless describes the situation graphically. Porpora, it is
related, gave Caffarelli a page of exercises to which he confined him
for five years. And at the end of that time he exclaimed: "You have
nothing more to learn! Caffarelli is the first singer in the world!"
As if facility of execution or technical skill were not the mere
beginning of vocal culture--the fashioning of the instrument, as it
were, with which the singer must subsequently learn the higher arts of
expressing human emotions in tones, of phrasing intelligently, and of
pronouncing distinctly, so that the poetic qualities of the text may
be appreciated.
In looking over specimens of the vocal music written by Porpora and
his contemporaries, we find passages in which a single syllable is
extended over one hundred and fifty-eight, and even a hundred and
seventy-five, notes. A more atrocious maltreatment of the text, and
misconception of the true function of the human voice, could not be
imagined. As Mr. H.C. Deacon remarks, "The passages in much of the
music of that date, especially tha
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