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A singer must never cease listening to herself intelligently and never neglect cultivating the head tone or over-tone of the voice, which is its salvation, for it means vibrancy, carrying power and youth to a voice. Without it the finest voice soon becomes worn and off pitch. Used judiciously it will preserve a voice into old age. Tone Emission and Attack
That globe drifted away and left a small trail of light until another came in sight. On this globe, there was a green over-tone, luxuriant vegetation. Everywhere there were trees and vegetable growths of all kinds. This one gradually drifted away like the preceding. The third was covered with animals of every description a mass, a chaos of animals.
Participation in music may become perfunctory or dull for the great majority, as when hymns are sung in church; a mere suggestion of action will doubtless continue to colour the impression received, for a tendency to act is involved in perception; but this suggestion will be only an over-tone or echo behind an auditory feeling.
Every time they passed a street lamp she turned her head to one side. “She is after all in the presence of God your wife,” said Eleanore gently and with remarkable solemnity. Daniel looked up and listened as if greatly abashed. Speaking out into the wind he said: “The over-tone, Eleanore; a bird twittering in the bush. In the presence of God my wife!
“Don’t crush my feelings, Eleanore!” cried Daniel, in a suppressed tone and with passionate fierceness: “Don’t crush my feelings, for they are all I have left. You are not capable of thinking as you have just been talking, you cannot think that low, you are not capable of such languid, ordinary feelings. The over-tone! The over-tone! Think a little! Can’t you see them gritting their teeth at me?
“I dare not tell you, otherwise my sweet over-tone will take a somersault, become mingled with the gloomy bass, and be lost forever.” Eleanore looked at him in amazement; he had never seemed so much like a fool to her in her life. “Listen,” he said, putting his arm in hers, “I have composed a song; here is the way it goes.” He sang a melody he had written for one of Eichendorff’s poems.
It is not drama or anecdote or sentiment or symbolism that this would bring back to the plastic arts, but rather that mysterious yet recognizable quality in which the art of Raffael excels a calm, disinterested, and professional concern with the significance of life as revealed directly in form, a faint desire, perhaps, to touch by a picture, a building, or a simple object of use some curious over-tone of our aesthetic sense.
Now, far in the shadows, I saw a man sitting on the bank fishing. His patience and persistence were remarkable, for he had been there all the time. But the fish were at play. The occasional splash of the carp, mingling with the perpetual song of the birds and the distant roar of the waves breaking on the shore to the south, formed one grand over-tone. A feeling of awe came over me.
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