Singing is a physical act and as such must be thoroughly and scientifically understood by the teacher, but not necessarily by the
pupil. For the pupil who learns best by imitation, the teacher should be able to impart the physiological principles in so simple and understandable a manner, and should be able to illustrate with his own voice the various tonal qualities of both correctly and incorrectly produced tones, and why they are right or wrong, that the pupil will be enlightened instead of bewildered. The pupil must be taught the sound of correctly produced tones, and because many learn more easily by imitation than by any other way it is imperative, I repeat, that the teacher be able to furnish a model or example.

Many zealots of the mechano-physiological school, unable to personally demonstrate their theories, have recourse to absurd mechanical devices which are supposed to assist the student. One pupil told me of a teacher who insisted upon his students’ wearing a certain patent belt while practicing. This was a kind of flexible yardstick with a dial which measured the inspiration and expiration of breath. When the dial turned to a certain number, it indicated that the breath and the tone had been good. If it did not reach this number, the tone was wrong. Another told of a teacher who made pupils sing while standing with their heels on a strip of wood and their toes on the floor. This was to assist in acquiring their top notes! Another required his students to sing their exercises while walking the length of the room with their arms held up above their heads. This was "to take the weight off the chest!"
Then, too, we remember the amusing scene in the film "One Night of Love," in which Grace Moore lay flat on the floor with several heavy volumes piled on her stomach. According to the vocal teacher in the film, she would approach her goal as a singer when she could lift the whole stack of books with her diaphragm. I dare say most of the audience thought this bit of nonsense was sheer burlesque, yet I have heard of many presumably reputable teachers who taught just such absurdities. Granted that the principle involved is usually a sensible one, the method of attainment is too often ludicrous.

In direct contrast to the mechano-physiological school is that group of teachers who preach the "natural" method, sometimes dubbed the "sing-like-the-birdies-sing" method. Instead of believing that the more one knows of the physical construction of the vocal
organs and the muscular processes involved in singing the better, these persons swing to the opposite extreme and insist that the less we know of such things, and the more we adhere to a purely imaginary method, the more beautifully will we sing. Many teachers say: "Think only of a beautiful tone, and forget everything else. Singing is spiritual and mental. If we think of a perfect and beautiful tone, the vocal mechanism will unconsciously function, instantly and accurately, to produce that tone."

It’s as simple as that. Or isn’t it?
If it is, why isn’t the world filled with the most glorious singers ever heard? Everyone wants to sing, and almost everyone does. Then why aren’t the results wholly different from what they are? The erroneous reasoning of the above-mentioned school is based upon the mistaken premise that the act of singing is fundamentally natural, simple, and easy to perform. Unfortunately, such is not the case.

To make a fairly pleasant sound within the limited compass of our speaking voice—a range of from four or five tones to perhaps an octave—may pass for singing at home or in a circle of friends, but that is not the kind of singing which we are now considering.
The kind of singing with which this site has to do, and which the student must acquire in order to achieve a career, is so wholly different that this difference must be obvious even to the musically uninformed.

Singorama Review