(aloud); and this would be promoted by such public readings and such instruction as we have in view. We hear not infrequently of gifts of a million dollars or more to a single university; and we think it is time that something should be done for those who have no opportunity to become very learned, but whose minds might by proper effort be attuned to what is best in Îiterature, and thus raised above the dreary level of commonplace ideas and petty personal concerns.'

OPERA IN ENGLISH.

There is a growing demand for the rendition of grand opera in English, if the critics are to be believed. The Hartford Courant declares that "the change is unavoidable not merely on general principles but because of the establishment of Wagner's theory of the music drama, in which the text and the music are of equal importance." This argu. ment is dwelt upon at some length as follows:

The preposterousness of singing in a language which not one in twenty of the audience understands is emphasized in proportion as the understanding of the text becomes important. In the old Italian opera it counted for next to nothing. People went to it to hear a few solos and a few choruses. The rest was of no consequence, and even these were enjoyed as music alone, not as integral parts of a whole, the effect of which depends largely on understanding the connection of this and that, and the development of musical themes in relation to the story of the play which gives them meaning, and with them produces the full effect of the work. In short, the new doctrine which Wagner taught has been accepted so widely that operas constructed without regard to it have little chance of commanding attention, and will have less and less as time goes on. The old favorites of the old school retain a hold yet which is owing chiefly to association and to reminiscence among the older hearers. Their claim to attention will grow slighter and slighter as a new generation comes on, and the beautiful music which many of them contain will be heard piecemeal, but not in its original place as part of a work which in its entirety will not attract listeners bred in a new and better school.

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No one supposes that the radical change of methods involved in giving the Wagner operas, for instance, in English is to be looked for at once; but the whole tendency is in that direction, and it is impossible to believe that mere tradition and the dictates of an idle fashion can withstand the earnest and reasonable desire of the music lovers, when they have realized a little more fully the incongruities of the present system. It is really a question of whether all singers shall learn the necessary number of languages, or all who attend the opera shall learn the same languages well enough to follow the singers easily and intelligently, whether they sing in French, German, or

Italian as is the case now. As between these two, the singers are naturally the ones to meet the requirement. When this is done the opera will obtain a popularity such as it has never enjoyed here, and incidentally it will meet more perfectly the conditions of an art production."

Another argument is found by the opposition to the star system with its high prices, which have placed grand opera beyond the reach of many. Opera in English, by native singers, on a scale that could be supported by cities of 250,000 people is advocated by Karleton Hackett and by W. S. B. Mathews in Music, and by others who have been quoted in this department. William J. Henderson, the musical critic of the New York Times, uses the libretto habit for a text, in treating this important question of opera in English. He says:

"How ridiculous the libretto habit is! People go to a theatre to see play in which the means of vocal utterance is music; and simply because they can hear that music, they forego all the delight and the meaning of costume, scenery, action, and facial expression because they must keep their eyes glued on a book containing the words, in order to know what the people on the stage are saying. The score habit is worse, though not so common, There really is no excuse for the futile struggle which some persons make to read the printed pages of a piano score at an operatic performance. If it were an orchestral score, and the reader were trying to discover the secrets of Wagner's instrumentation, there might be some reason for it; but the piano score is intended only for private study, for home consumption. It shows a hearty misconception of Wagner's purposes to give attention solely to his music. What becomes of the work of the future,' the organic union of poetry, painting, music, and action?

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art

All excuse for using libretti or scores would disappear if we had opera in our own tongue. The objection will at once be raised that it is not fashionable. That is true at present, but there is no reason why it should continue to be the case. Grand opera in English could be made as fashionable with English-speaking people as opera in French is with Frenchmen. It would be such an incentive to the production of original works! We have no grand opera composers now, and it may be many years before we have any. But that does not touch the root of the matter. If we had a market for the production of original operas, composers of other nations would be glad to bring their wares to it. Meyerbeer, a German, and Rossini, an Italian, were quite willing to write for the French stage.'

The musical critic of the New York Tribune remarks:

"In the nature of things the United States must soon follow the example of France, Germany, and Russia, and establish a national opera, or opera which, like

the drama, shall use the vernacular. From German opera to opera in English the step is feasible; from Italian opera. dependent on compositions that have no consonance with the dramatic tastes of the American people and the present time, the step is impossible. Progress in art means life; stag nation means death. Music in America must strive for an ideal in which the impulses and the feelings of the American people can find expression. Opera on German lines will build a road to that ideal; Italian opera on the old lines will open a chasm between it and our present activities. The time is almost ripe for the establishment of a great institution which shall be truly national, though independent of government support-national, in that it shall accord with the tastes of the American peo. ple and employ their tongue. If our opera can be polyglot, it can as well be English. Read the names of some of the American singers who have upheld foreign opera: Clara Louise Kellogg, Annie Louise Cary, Minnie Hauk, Emma Nevada, Emma Abbott, Lillian Nordica, Emma Eames, Emma Albani, Adelaide Phillips, Marie Litta, Ella Russell, Pauline L'Allemand, Helene Hastreiter, Marie Van Zandt, Sybil Sanderson, Leila Risley, Zelie de Lussan, Marie Engle, Charles R. Adams, David Bispham, Verdi, and Jules Perkins. There are more; and more to come."

POSING FOR PHOTOGRAPHS.

A few suggestions from G. G. Rockwood, the photographer, in regard to posing may be quite as useful to the subjects of portraiture as to photographers. The summary of suggestions given in the American Journal of Photography is as follows:

"1. Study both the faults and the graces of your subject, and endeavor to conceal the one and emphasize the other.

"2. Endeavor by the arrangement of light to secure effect. Audacity in the contrasts of light with shade is not the unpardonable sin.

3. Study variety of both pose and effect. Mannerism is objectionable in any branch of art, while orginality in treatment is quite as practicable and interesting as in painting. A recent writer says: Our subjects and our treatment of them must be emphatically our own; but, nevertheless, every student of the art owes it to himself to get what help he can from the study of the works of the great painters who have gone before. His object should be to notice, not only how natural appearances have been modified-or, as it is technically called, treated-by painters of acknowledged fame, but also why this was done. No artist who has in him any spark of originality will directly repeat any effect that has already been painted; but an earnest student can only benefit himself by trying in a measure to look at nature from the point of view of the masters of his art.'

Mr. Rockwood says that it is his own habit to diagnose the temperament of each

sitter as carefully as his personal comeliness. "To place the quiet, phlegmatic temperament in startling dramatic action is as discordant as to pose the nervous, active, sanguine subject in a library, reading a book!" Dress and all accessories should be subordinated to the subject of the picture. We quote further:

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As a rule, the light should fall at an angle of about forty five degrees upon the subject, and from as near a northern, sky as possible. Posing and lighting so supplement each other that I treat them together. Pose means, in a degree, balance. So, as we place our sitter under the light, the first effort would seemingly be so to pose or balance the head as to remove all fear of the head tumbling off, or rolling out of the picture. The size of the head in the picture is at times an important element. In the high foreheads, long, thin faces, large heads and often small bodies of a certain type of American women, the large head is peculiarly disastrous."

MUSIC IN THE KINDERGARTEN.

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"I am much interested in kindergarten schools," says John H. Gutterson, in the Popular Educator, and, as I remember the systems in vogue in my childish days, I almost envy scholars of to-day, with the bright, attractive schoolroom, and winsome teacher sans frown and rod. The idea of the present system seems to be to arouse all the faculties in the little brain, and enlist mind and heart and feet and hands in each half-hour lesson. This is exactly what I try to do with my small people, and they talk of dollar notes,' and 'twenty-five cent notes. A flat is a boy who has fallen down; a sharp, a boy who has climbed upon a fence. To grown people, no doubt, it sounds like foolishness, but foolishness (or rather simplicity) is bound up in the heart of a child' was written by one who is remembered down through the ages because of his wisdom.

“I should not like to buy candy of you!' I say to the child who plays a sixteenth note in the time allotted to an eighth, and she understands that someone is being cheated. Very homely illustrations, all, but they make an impression where careful, learned discourse would not penetrate at all. To make a child think as he practices is the first aim of a teacher is it not? But how many do actually think of anything beyond the notes, time (may be), and fingers (possibly)? With them music study means so many hours at the piano, so many lessons a week, and-get through as best you can. Who talks or lives music? No one but musical cranks, who can find a tune in the wind or a brook.

"Geography is talked, taught, traveled; so are French and German. Why not music then, since music is language universal? It is a new idea to a child, that the little German or French piano student, while not understanding a word of English, could yet play the same music we are using here

to-day; and much interest is excited by the comparative English, French, and German titles of our études and pieces."

VOICE AND CHARACTER.

The 46 Home Club" of the New York Outlook attributes bad tones in American voices to tone deafness and weakness of character:

New York this winter has had the benefit of several experts in voice-culture, in training the conversational voice. All these experts admit the disagreeable quality in the American voice, and each in turn advocates individual culture of the voice. We can not agree with one who maintains that the foundation of all voice-work is breath, and that when the breath is properly controlled, and the breathing-organs in proper use, the voice will be agreeable. Without doubt, tone-deafness is often responsible for the bad tones in the American voice. People do not listen to their own voices, are not sensitive to sound, or a defect in hearing prevents their detection of the disagreeable tones in their voices. What is needed is a trained ear, and this can be gained only by educating the ear to detect the difference between the cultivated and the uncultivated voice, and to imitate that which appeals to the sense of harmony. The fundamental construction of the voice rests in character. It is a rare thing for a man or a woman of beautiful character to have a disagreeable voice. Often there will be found, among the ignorant, voices like velvet, and when you come to know the possessors of these voices you find that they have a beauty of nature, and that the voice is but the natural expression of this beauty of nature. Whether a deliberate attempt to cultivate an attractive voice would reflect on the character is a problem worthy of experiment. One expert advises as a cure for indistinct pronunciation and carelessness in pronunciation the habit of reading aloud for fifteen minutes every day from some recognized writer of pure English. Select, she said, that which appeals to the best in oneself, and then read slowly and carefully, listening for final g, for careful pronunciation of th, for a clear pronunciation of s; and this practice, continued for six months, will end in giving clear enunciation. Nothing, however, was said of the education indirectly acquired by this method of treating the voice."

"Actual experience on the stage is surely not required of him. He is not expected to know all the ins and outs of theatre-management; while there is a standing complaint against a critic who is also a playwright, notwithstanding the fact that some of the ablest and fairest critics in France, England, and this country have been dramatists of distinction. That most of them who write plays are still enrolled in the great army of the unacted is owing partly to the fact that the dramatist's task demands undivided attention; but perhaps more largely to the other fact, just noted, that inventive and analytical skill do not often go hand in hand. Some well-directed practice in the art of modern play-making will measurably improve a dramatic critic's understanding of other men's plays; and in the spirit that would prevent him from nourishing his ambition to become a dramatist would also prevent any person who had written a book from serving as a literary reviewer.

The theatrical art of to-day partakes somewhat of the characteristics of all the sister arts; and it is undoubtedly desirable for a critic of the stage to have some sound knowledge of music and painting. But, while it is not uncommon to find among men of ordinary intelligence one who does not claim to be an authority on music or the fine arts, or even in certain branches of literature, one rarely meets a man who goes to the theatre at all who does not hold himself quite competent to pass final judgment on actors and dramatists who have devoted years of labor to their work. The ideal dramatic critic would be a man of the keenest sensibility, the clearest and broadest comprehension, and the most catholic taste; thoroughly trained for his task by the study of the literature and the history of the stage; familiar enough with its mechanical limitations not to demand the impossible; a student of painting, sculpture, anatomy, dancing, boxing and fencing, as well as of elocution and rhetoric; and, above all, capable of honestly appreciating the best in all forms of the drama and all varieties of acting,-free, i. e., from settled prejudices and strong personal bias. But that ideal would be possible only in an ideal world."

In regard to the function and the methods of modern criticism, the writer has this to say:

"With a theatre which still esteems Shakespeare, but rejects all his contemporaries and nearly all his seventeenth and eighteenth century successors, as well as most of the playwrights of the first threequarters of our own century; in which are contending, side by side, Ibsen, the German realists and pessimists, the young English writers of social drama and intellectual farce, the unabashed manufacturers of machine-made melodrama and horseplay burletta, and the dramatist of newspaper jokes; it is not possible for either actor or critic to adhere to one unchanging point of view. The best the reviewer of plays can do is to record clearly the im

pression made by any performance upon his own mind; and this in itself is a hard task which requires good training and the possession of a mind as sensitive to quick impressions as the film of the camera. That, under the circumstances, the general quality of newspaper criticism of the stage is so fair and interesting seems to me to be remarkable. In all newspapers of repute the 'regulation notice,' which used to be merely a fulsome, heavy, and ill expressed puff of a sort now fallen into disuse except in very small cities, has been replaced by a vivacious and graphic account of the performance. Still, a doubt may fairly be entertained as to whether the immense mass of well intentioned dramatic criticism is altogether beneficial either to the theatre or to the public. I am convinced, however, that nearly every newspaper, according to its kind, aims to provide for its readers the best reviews of plays it can obtain."

And what of the future of dramatic criticism? It is, according to Mr. Dithmar, not as dark as it is painted. The lot is hard and offers few prizes, but the critic has his reward. To quote:

"Still, if he have enough philosophy, he may console himself with the thought that he labors in a good cause, and that even if, in his efforts to make better understood a form of art that can never die, he has somewhat overstepped himself and helped to develop a race of imitation critics rather than a multitude of frankly receptive and highly appreciative spectators, that evil will in time be remedied. The theatre will grow in strength, in seriousness and in influence; and more good will come out of it in the future than ever came in the past. Now it is too much of a toy,-just as the phonograph and the kinetoscope are toys-because it has not been perfected. Modern development has affected it, thus far, only to the extent of bringing it nearer to the public. It is at the mercy of half-educated and tolerably well-to-do people, who are no longer satisfied with the few simple diversions of their fathers, who have found the cheap newspaper a substitute for the lecture, and who have been bred above dog-fighting, and yet are not capable of appreciating the best the drama affords.

"The dramatic critic's work is more useful than ever; and no modest craftsman can ask for better encouragement than the knowledge that he is needed. As a medium for expressing his views of life in general, he finds theatrical reviewing an especially congenial exercise. The drama is comprehensive and ever expanding; and to write about it day by day ought to be inspiring work for a man burdened with a 'message.'"

FRANK DAMROSCH'S SINGING-CLASSES. Frank Damrosch, lately appointed music supervisor in the New York public schools, is widely known by his success in teaching singing classes of novices at Cooper Union.

These classes, of from 800 to 1200, meet Sunday afternoons, six months of the year, and consist largely of young working men and women. The Messiah," was recently rendered in concert by them, and Mr. Damrosch's method of teaching is a subject of The current interest in this connection. New York Tribune says:

In teaching to read vocal music at sight, the first requisite is to give a clear knowledge of the relation of musical sounds to each other-relative pitch-and of how to produce these sounds. Mr. Damrosch would, therefore, at the outset, teach his classes to sing a major scale with the syllables do, re, mi, etc., by imitation, thus establishing a measure of pitch, from which the relations of all the sounds in the scale can be deduced. They are then identified by their number in the scale. The class is thoroughly drilled in the various intervals, beginning with the simplest, till all those contained in the major scale can be sung on demand, the teacher not singing at all. No difficulty is found in accomplishing this if taught in the proper manner and order. Simpler relations of pitch having been mastered thus, positive pitch is introduced by giving the names of the sound letters and practicing in similar manner with them. The class, having gone so far, is ready for the last of these elementary steps, the representation of sounds by their characters-the notes upon the staff. The teacher calls for a sound by its name; the class having sung it, he writes its character on the staff, and informs his pupils that this is the sign of the note they have just sung. The other sounds of the scale-Mr. Damrosch begins with some other than the key of C, usually D, to avoid the notion that the former is in any way the parent or foundation of the other keys-are then represented in a similiar way, and the class is practiced in identifying them and singing the intervals as they are called for. Thus, notes upon the staff are made to represent something definite, and carry a meaning that they never can have when taught simply as hieroglyphics, before the understanding of what they represent in sounds is acquired.

"In this way a knowledge of one note and one interval after another is gradually attained. The class soon is able to sing simple exercises, and then simple songs. It is interesting to witness the thrill of pleasure felt by these ardent beginners when they enter upon their first part-singing almost before they know it. Mr. Damrosch writes upon his blackboard the theme of a simple 'round,' or canon in the unison. He has them sing it together a few times, till they are familiar with it; then, starting the first voice-part, he causes the others to enter successively at the indicated points; and when the little piece is in full progress the singers are loath to stop, so delighted are they with the joy of making their first real music.' The advance to study in different keys is simple after the thorough grounding in the intervallic relationships secured in the

beginning. So, too, is the study of the different clefs. The People's Singing-Classes can do what very few experienced choirs can do in this regard, they can read in the C clef in its various uses as alto, tenor, and soprano clef as easily as in the ordinary G and F clefs-the treble' and the 'bass' clef of everyday music. The progress made in these things is gradual yet steady; it is conditioned on the surety given by actual practice and familiarity with the various new elements as they are brought up."

EXERCISES TO IMPROVE THE FIGURE.

Four exercises for home-practice by young women who are desirous of attaining a stately, graceful carriage are suggested by Miss E. Marguerite Lindley in the New York Journal:

"The first is a leg exercise, for flexibility and control of thigh and leg muscles. Assume neck firm (to gain this, raise arms to plane of shoulders, flex elbows and bring finger-tips in touch, not clasped, at back of neck). Carry chest forward and hips backward, so that chest and abdomen are in line. Hold head erect, but avoid rigidity, for while cultivating grace of carriage, we must be careful not to destroy contour of neck, and rigidity of muscle is apt to do this. Place a book on the head to insure steadiness of movement. An improvised plumbline, attached at chest by means of a bended pin for hook, aids in deciding good trunk posture. After assuming this posture, bend one knee, carrying the weight of the trunk to this leg, maintaining erect position of the trunk. The opposite knee must not be bent. Hold the posture for a few heart-beats, then straighten bent knee and direct the movement to the other leg. This exercise must be practiced slowly and repeated from ten to twenty times. There must be no hip motion, but energy must be localized entirely in knee and in ankle.

"The same movement from a forward and a backward swaying is also of great value for improving flexibility of muscle and nerve control in the lower limbs. For this

movement, carry the foot forward twice its length, maintaining the position of trunk and arm described above. Bend the forward knee, carrying the weight of trunk forward and keeping back leg stiff.

"The shoulder-blade and chest-raising exercise is also most important in attaining a graceful carriage. From correct standingposture bend down, bringing finger-tips in touch with shoulders, weight of arms sus pended from shoulder blades, not chestwalls. Direct hands upward and make a resistive upward stretch, raising elbows in side plane, not toward the front, and forcing the arm-extension. After limit is reached, resume bend position of arms and exercise downward stretch. In the upward stretch keep palms directed toward each other, hands shoulder-width apart, and take care that the head does not push forward. The back movement is rather difficult

at first, but I consider it of great importance. Before practicing it, however, in case of any weakness of internal organs, I should advise that a physician be consulted. The position is as follows: Chest lying, hips firm, feet fixed, that is, placed under a piece of heavy furniture for support. The movement must begin with raising the head; the shoulder muscles are next involved, and then the muscles of the lower spine. Use care, in practicing, that elbows do not droop. Do not hold the breath. After holding the posture a few heart-beats, resume rest position and repeat the movement from three to eight times.

The next exercise is a side movement for strengthening the muscles of waist and abdomen. The position is as follows: Sitting, neck firm, trunk twist, direct the energy to the intercostal muscles, and the movement is performed, in the main, by them, although the transverse muscles of the abdomen and the spinal muscles give secondary aid. The trunk moves on the pelvis. Hip-joints are not employed. Breathe freely, but not in rhythm, with the movement, and take care to hold the elbows in line with the shoulder-blades. the movement from three to eight times for each side, taking care to hold good chestposture. Follow this exercise by repeating the leg-movement first described.

Repeat

These exercises should always close with the following respiratory movement: Assume correct standing-posture; arms forward, upright raise, inhaling. sideways, hands turn at shoulder height, downward, sink, exhaling; repeat this ten times. Guard against tendency to push the head forward on the upward raise of the arms.

"All the exercises must be practiced slowly, and never after a meal. Just before retiring is the best time to practice. Never attempt any of the exercises in tight clothing. Bloomers and a sweater make a good exercising costume."

MUSICAL BREAKS BY NOVELISTS.

Many amusing blunders are made by novelists in their references to musical compositions and performances. A writer in Macmillan's Magazine mentions a few of these as follows:

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In their allusions to the musical art our novelists commit the most amazing blunders with the most serene conscience, blunders of which any schoolgirl would be ashamed, and from which no more trouble than is necessary to turn over the leaves of a dictionary of music might have saved them. One novelist, for example, makes his hero a soprano; another pictures a Scottish Highlander sitting in the roadside, singing a Jacobite song and accompanying himself on the bagpipe. Marion Crawford has ascribed La Favorita' to Verdi, a feat paralleled by Mr. Black in sitting a lady down to a piano to play Beethoven's Farewell,' a composition unknown to that musician's many admirers. Mr. Black has