Part 11

Have I placed too great a value on the discovery of the "voice of the œsophagus"?

I feel convinced that the further exposition of my observations will justify me in all I have said.

DIAPHRAGMS

As the trunk has its diaphragm, dividing thorax and abdomen, so do all dual hemispheres representing a faculty or function have their diaphragms, performing duties of an analogous nature. Every opening, in fact, has its diaphragm. Where there is none visible, it is formed by contraction, whenever needed, and but for the time being. All these various diaphragms, more particularly the one specially bearing that name, are of the greatest importance in connection with vocal utterance,--the sounds of the vessels of the abdomen being produced by an expansion of the thorax and consequent contraction of the abdomen, those of the vessels of the thorax by an expansion of the abdomen and a consequent contraction of the thorax.

For the purposes of vocal utterance, inspiration into the thorax produces an expiration from the abdomen by way of the œsophagus, accompanied by vocal sound, while an inspiration into the abdomen produces an expiration from the thorax by way of the trachea, accompanied by vocal sound; the special mode of inspiration regulating the special sound to be produced.

This proceeding has reference to outgoing sounds only. For ingoing sounds the opposite proceeding takes place; an expiration from the thorax producing an inspiration into the abdomen, and an expiration from the abdomen an inspiration into the thorax, both accompanied by sound. Every original inspiration into thorax or abdomen, of course, must have been preceded by an expiration from these parts, while every original expiration must have been preceded by an inspiration into the same. The utterance of every sound, therefore, requires at least three movements on the part of the respiratory organs. But for the action of the diaphragm, such sounds could not be produced.

All these various diaphragms fall or recede for inspiration, rise or advance for expiration; the function of a diaphragm being exercised in conformity with the manner in which it is approached. This may be done by way of the œsophagus or the trachea, i. e., from the side of the hemisphere of the abdomen, or from that of the thorax. The outward movement of the abdomen during respiration, therefore, is not caused by a pressure brought to bear on its contents by the diaphragm, but it advances and recedes in conformity with a direct process of inspiration and expiration by way of the œsophagus and the trachea; the œsophagus and trachea sustaining each other and acting reciprocally and in conjunction. This presumed pressing forward and subsequent receding of the entrails, in consequence of the descent and ascent of the diaphragm, presents a spectacle as repugnant as it is impossible of execution; the extension of the abdomen, more particularly in connection with special sounds, being so great that no pressure whatever brought to bear upon the entrails could possibly produce it.

In place of this theory, now so generally entertained, the simple fact obtains that the diaphragm descends in consequence of an influx of air into and subsequent expansion of the thorax, causing a contraction of the abdomen and an efflux of air from the same; that it ascends in consequence of an influx of air into and expansion of the abdomen, causing a contraction of the thorax and an efflux of air from the same.

IMPRESSION AND EXPRESSION

All vocal expression is but an echo, the echo of a thought. Thought must precede vocal expression. It is not possible to produce a vocal sound, not the simplest, without thought. There is no such thing as a voice ipso facto, no more than there is music in a musical instrument unless it is called forth by the hand of the player. Try it. Come upon a sound suddenly, around the corner, as it were, and then express it. Do not give it a moment's time for its development; that is, do not give thought time to mould a form for it, but try to utter it in embryo, so to say, the very moment you think of it, and you will not be able to do it. You will not produce any sound whatever.

It is as necessary to form a mould for a sound as it is for any shaped and moulded material article. Out of this mould it comes forth in conformity with the form we have given it: harsh, abrupt, discordant--rhythmical, beautiful, soulful. Such as the thought is, so will be the expression. In ordinary conversation this proceeding is automatic and mechanical, in elocution or song more or less volitional and artistic. That is to say, for ordinary speech it acts automatically, for artistic utterance it acts designedly. Materially, the mould is convex, shut, for ingoing; concave, open, for outgoing sounds. It expands for the former, it contracts for the latter. Vocal sounds are a product of matter as well as mind; the act itself which produces them being a connecting link between matter and mind. The soul calls on the body to aid it in giving form to its desires and intentions; the body instantly obeys and assumes the form from which the expected sound or action is to arise.

No matter how great a soul may be, unless it can give form and consequent utterance to its greatness, it will be helpless, far more so than the simplest soul capable of giving expression to its simplicity. Confined to our own limits, like the congenital deaf, our faculties become dwarfed and useless. We do not know ourselves, do not know our own souls. We must expand, go out into the world and take it in, if we want to grow and give our faculties a chance to develop.

The greater our horizon, the more we can take in, the more we can give out. Our soul is scarcely ours when enchained; the greater its liberty, the more it belongs to us. Hence our just pity for the congenital deaf, and our desire to assist them in their efforts at expression. Those among them who are being, or have been, tutored, receive their impressions through their eyes in the form assumed by the speaker's mouth; the eye assuming the function of the ear. The form assumed by their teacher's mouth, however, not being perfect, a perfect impression cannot be made. Hence the expression of the deaf is in conformity with the impression they have obtained: mechanical, material, soulless. The exterior lines of the mouth of the teacher, or any other speaker's from which the deaf draw their inspiration, are those of the material side of the medal. Failing to see the reverse side thereof, namely, the interior of the mouth, which is its spiritual side, the lines of the latter make no impression upon them. These fine lines on the interior side of the speaker's mouth, representing the rhythm, the soul of the voice, not being seen, fail to make that impression from which alone a soulful expression could arise.

That an impression may be made through the eye will scarcely require a defense, in view of the fact that in reading aloud or in singing from notes the entire impression is made through the eye. The reader or singer, knowing the value of every sound, is impressed by the sight of a letter or a note as he would be by the sound itself. Not so with the congenital deaf, who, being ignorant of such value, cannot reproduce it. Nor will it be contended, I suppose, that the deaf knowingly, designedly, or volitionally attempt to imitate the forms assumed by the teacher's mouth, but it will be admitted that this is done spontaneously, and that vocal sounds with them arise from this imperfect mechanism, thus involuntarily reproduced.

With the congenital deaf, with persons attempting to speak a foreign language, etc., the material form, as well as the spiritual impetus, being imperfect, the expression will be in conformity therewith. In how far and in what manner these investigations may become helpful to the deaf will be a matter for the not distant future to develop. That they will eventually become of the greatest aid to them I have every reason to believe. Those who have made a study of matters of this kind understand the difficulties surrounding the same. These difficulties are increased manifold where the ear of the scholar absolutely refuses to come to his own and his teacher's aid.

There are forms in which vocal sounds move, well defined and capable of material representation, which are not fully expressed by the shape of the teacher's mouth, nor are they thus expressed by impressions taken by the aid of the camera. Regarding the latter, it is necessary to note that photographic representations of vocal sounds are the result of the combined action of the voice of the œsophagus and of that of the trachea, of material and immaterial factors. Just in how far the latter are capable of being thus represented must, as yet, remain a matter of conjecture.

An attempt at reconciling photographic representations of vocal sounds with the oscillations of the vocal cords is, at most, a one-sided proceeding. To arrive at any correct conclusion at all, it would be necessary to take the vibrations of the "vocal lip" and the frænum into equal consideration.

Regarding our capacity for improving the natural physical and psychical capabilities of the musical instrument of the voice, that depends upon the manner in which we play upon it. As it yields to the slightest pressure of the air, either for good or for evil, we must, above all things, learn how to guide the tip of our tongue in touching its aërial strings or keys, which are far more sensitive than those of any instrument ever produced by the hand of man. It takes years to attain a mastery over the simplest musical instrument; yet it is often expected that the instrument of the voice should yield to the most careless efforts made in the most wilful and indiscriminate manner.

The thought of a sound, after producing an impression, guides the tongue in releasing such impression. Unless the tongue touches or moves towards the exact spot which will effect such release, the expression or the sound will not be forthcoming. That the impression, as well as its release, should be properly made, it is necessary to think of the sound which is to be produced, in the most precise and correct manner. I cannot sufficiently impress upon the reader's mind the importance this simple lesson conveys. If he will shape his manner of vocal utterance, especially his mode of singing, in conformity therewith, he will be able to improve his voice to a far greater extent than he would by following any or all of the realistic methods now in vogue. This thinking of the correct sound must be carried on for the next syllable during the production of the previous one; and care must be taken not to think of more than one syllable at one and the same time. Unless this is done, no pure sound will ever be produced, the impression made by thinking of a second or third syllable overlapping that for the next following; thus producing a muddle and a discord. Rhythm being the basis for all perfect vocal utterance, a rhythmic impression must be made in order to obtain a rhythmic expression. This cannot be done when the former is not preserved in its entire purity until it is released.

All of us, either during our ordinary speech or during our efforts at artistic expression, are guided by the process just described; unknowingly, unwittingly, properly or improperly, for good or for evil, pursuing this same course. I cannot enter upon these matters to any greater extent at this time, as it will be necessary to first treat of other matters with which they are intimately connected.

THE PHONOGRAPH

In trying the experiment of coming upon a sound unawares, simply endeavor to divest yourself of all thought, and then suddenly, without any preparation whatever, say "a," or "b," or "it," or any word you wish, and you will not be able to produce such sound or sounds--or, in fact, any sound whatsoever. Or, you may get some one to, of a sudden, produce sounds embodied in letters before your eyes; and you will find you will be unable to utter them instantly. While you cannot thus produce a vocal sound, or vocal sounds embodied in words, you can produce simple sounds without preparation. As they belong to but one hemisphere, and are consequently not the product of a compound impression, they may be uttered the very moment we think of them. While they are being uttered, our organs of speech are "shut," far more so than they are for vocal sounds.

Consonant sounds cannot be uttered "vocally" without a vowel sound. When they appear in a syllable their accompanying vowel sound carries them and permeates them. When they appear singly we add a vowel sound to them. We say: "ar," "be," "en," "ka," etc.; unless we do so we cannot pronounce them. Without such accompanying vowel sound they would be inert.

"Simple" consonant sounds are unaccompanied, not "leavened," by a vowel sound. "Simple" vowel sounds, on the other hand, are unaccompanied by the element which constitutes consonant sounds; while "vocal" vowel sounds are accompanied thereby.

The word "surd," used in connection with non-vocal sounds, does not express the meaning of what I call "simple" sounds, as all sounds may be either "vocal" or "simple," while "surd" applies only to special sounds.

The necessity of making an impression for vocal utterance also prevails in connection with motion. You cannot lift your right foot or your left arm, or make any given motion whatever, the very moment you think of making it. It requires some preparation; though you may lift part of a limb without preparation. A part of a limb in this sense may be compared to a simple, the entire limb to a vocal, sound. The thought must make an impression by expansion or contraction, which, when released, will express the desired motion; no matter whether such motion is made unconsciously or deliberately. It is more difficult to watch this proceeding in connection with sight; the operations of light being so rapid that the expression seems to be simultaneous with the impression.

Contraction and expansion for motion are of the same order as they are for vocal utterance. In fact, both are so closely connected that we cannot utter a sound unless it is accompanied by a motion. In stopping the motion accompanying a sound, we stop our ability of uttering such sound. I shall have occasion to call attention to numerous conditions under which it will be impossible to utter sounds, either separate or connected, by stopping the motion necessary to produce such sounds. It is all due to the fact that we are homogeneous beings, whose powers are interdependent upon one another.

The effect of the teacher's voice upon his or her scholar's organization is of a similar order to that made by thought upon the teacher's own organization. That it is not of the same order is due to the fact that the organization upon which it is made is but rarely constituted the same, is not as highly organized and developed or "schooled," as the one from which the voice emanated. The impression made by the singing-teacher's voice is of the same order as that made upon the deaf by the features of their instructor which are representative of his voice. We are living, breathing phonographs. Every impression we receive through any of our senses must be made in a material manner before it can have its immaterial expression. We engrave upon living tissue, instead of on rubber or wax.