Screenland (May-Oct 1930)

108 SCREENLAND Can Stars' Voices Be Remodeled? — Continued from page 31 to learn to sing, perhaps on the screen, or would like to hear your screen stars speak or sing better, the first thing you should do is to disabuse your mind of the theory that any deficiency in talking pic tures must be laid to the reproducing apparatus rather than to the voice of your favorite. That is wrong. If the apparatus is good enough to reproduce musical instruments and orchestras, it is equally good to reproduce the talking or singing voice. Only a few voices register well. The vast majority are not pleasant to hear. And that is due -to the fact that the voice is improperly produced. If people would only learn to sing in their mouths, instead of trying to sing behind their noses, and in other curious parts of their anatomy! The voice must be in the mouth. Here, with, a clear and distinct articulation, its projection will be facilitated by the fact that the vibrations travel unhampered from the mouth to the microphone and it will register well. But when the voice is produced in other parts of the vocal apparatus, such as behind the nose, in the throat, or in the chest, due to the fact that the vibrations have to travel a longer distanceto reach the microphone and due to the interference created by the organs of the throat, tongue, palate, and so on, the vibrations must be forced out by the breath. It is exactly this breath pressure which is responsible for the bad voice production and the muffled articulation of some of the players. May your favorite star not be among them! Because I have proved my theory so many times, I am going to Hollywood with no misgivings but rather with gratitude that it will be my province to help build up the voices of the stars whose screen personalities have given pleasure and diversion to millions, month after month, and year after year. I am sure of a fair amount of success because the stars themselves are showing such wonderful spirit. They are never satisfied! Gloria Swanson after her lovely performance in "The Trespasser" came to me for lessons. She was to sing over the radio, and even after her experience and great success was terrified. She had marvelous concentration; and in two weeks the difference in her voice was most marked. She made her radio debut with glowing success. But even then she wasn't satisfied. She is still intensely absorbed in her singing. Although she used to sing a little, she never had a big voice and she never regarded it .seriously urttil talking pictures came along. Now, she wants to become a real artist. I should not be surprised to see her in opera one day. She has great possibilities. Her voice is a lyric soprano with a dark quality which is very rare. And in addition, she has the mental and artistic qualifications so necessary to real singing success. In Hollywood, I know I shall be happy for my time will be placed at the disposal of some of the greatest stars in the world. Just which individual players will need my attention I do not now know. But since Metro's stars include Greta Garbo, Marion Davies, Norma Shearer, John Gilbert, Joan Crawford, and many others, I feel that my work will be more interesting than ever before. I shall teach the screen stars just as I have taught dozens of stage and operatic stars. The principles are well defined. Beautiful speaking and beautiful singing depend upon clarity. First, the attention must be centered on correct pronunciation. Second, no contortions can be performed with the body or the muscles. Third, the words alone must express the emotions, the real quality comes from the brain and the soul. There can be no shifting from this ground. No changing of principles. One of the greatest musicians and composers who ever lived — Richard Wagner — said: "In art, he who compromises will soon disappear." That is the fibre of my belief. And that is the tenacious quality which I shall hand down to my pupils so long as I live and breathe. Mrs. Oakie's Little Boy, Jack — continued from page n one side of a huge clothes basket full of doughnuts. 'My lands,' I said, 'what are all those for? I'm sure we'll never use them!' 'Won't we?' said the boy's mother, 'Jack has asked all the boys his size in the town to the party.' And when the time came, the hill, where we lived, was covered with boys. There must have been 250 little boys, all of whom Jack had measured with his height and asked to his party. You never saw such a variety of boys in your life. "On Sundays, Jack used to sing solos in the church. He had a beautiful soprano voice. One day, he was to sing Onward Christian Soldiers. At the last line, 'where duty calls or danger, be never wanting there,' Jack sang right out, 'be never waiting there' with a great big wink to the choir. "When Jack was fourteen years old, his father died. I was given a position in Scudder's School for Girls in New York and, of course, I took the children with me. I was ambitious and learned about politics. My main idea was to make Jack a politician. I wanted him someday to be the Governor of New York State. 'If you only listen to me, Lewis,' I used to say, 'I know how to make you the Governor of New York.' One time, he and his chum, a member of the Walter Hagen family, went up to Albany on a trip to the state capitol. He remembered my wish for him to be Governor and wrote me a note while he was sitting in the Governor's chair. 'Dear Mother, I'm doing the best I can for you. I'm sitting in the Governor's chair.' "Lewis sang every Sunday for four years in the All Angels' Choir in New York City. He has a very good voice now. But he never sings out. After I saw 'Hit The Deck,' I said, 'Why didn't you sing good, when they let you?' 'Why, Ev,' he William Jennings Bryan and heard a lecturer say that the uncrowned queens of America were the mothers of men. From that time until Jack was born, Ev thought it would be fine to have a boy and encourage him to become somebody. So Jack Oakie, little Lewis Offield, was born. "I don't expect you to believe this," said Ev, the other day, "but Lewis never cried when he was a baby. He was just so good! Women used to stop me on the street and kiss him and love him." And Ev showed disgust for what she thought were silly old women. Remember this, Ev is a very intelligent lady. She's a psychologist. She gave her children the happiest home any husky American children ever had. "My husband," said Ev, "didn't care what Jack did. And I didn't. Jack was always happy. No matter what the children did, we thought it was grand. You know, we never whipped Jack. That's scientific training. And I never thought he was bad. No, he was a funny little kid with a lot of devil and mischief in him — but he wasn't bad." In one of Jack's scrap books is an article written by one of the school girls about a party he attended. Part of the article reads: "And that little Lewis Offield (Jack) sang a song and you'd never think to hear him sing that he was so bad. He was just terrible. All the time he was singing, his mother, who accompanied him on the piano, watched him because you never knew what he would do. He was the boy who took several other boys to Mrs. McDonald's big new bathtub. He filled it to the top with water and then they all jumped in and began swimming. The water ran all over the floor." Then Ev remembered Jack's circus. "When Jack was eight years old," she said, "a circus came to town. From then on, nothing would do but Jack must have a circus. We had given his sister music lessons so we thought we'd give Jack a lot of fun and let him have a donkey and a $50 tent, in which to hold the circus. Well, he had the donkey and clowns and seats and everything. On the night of the performance, all the parents around the neighborhood came. When we walked, we noticed that we were stepping into some white powder that was covering the ground. Here, Jack had taken our new barrel of soap powder from the cellar and covered the ground to make it look like sawdust. Land's sake, the stuff took all the color off my shoes and I slid all over the street going home! But I didn't care. Jack was happy. You see, his father and I never cared very much what the children did just so they were happy. We kept the donkey for several years. Four or five children could ride him at once. "Jack was the most persistent boy I ever heard of. Once, I was invited to a woman's party. Jack asked if there was going to be any ice cream and cake. I told him yes, but that he .couldn't come. When I arrived, I told all the women that Jack might try to come but for them not to let him in. Well, in the middle of the afternoon, here he comes — all dressed up in bow tie and everything. He just put his thumb on the doorbell and kept it there fifteen or twenty minutes until we had to let him in. The ladies took him out in •the kitchen, gave him ice cream and he left immediately. "On his tenth birthday we said Jack could have a birthday party. Some boy around the corner had his birthday the same day, so Jack and he were going to have a double party in our garden. I had two large cakes. The other boy's mother came with her maid. Each was carrying