First Element of "Barefoot Singing" -- Back to Nature

Ever since I posted the other day about the notion of categorizing myself as a "Barefoot Singer," the thoughts have been coming to me about what type of singer this might be.  Have been scribbling down notes in a rather haphazard way as the most appealing elements of barefoot running start to shape an approach to singing in my brain.

Originally, this post planned to list all the elements scribbled over my notepaper.  But now it seems like there is too much to say about each element, so I may have to make one post for each element I discover and wish to discuss.

Here is one of the elements, in very rough form right now, but pressing to lead the way as all the elements collect themselves into some kind of unified theory.  This won't always be worded exactly right.  It is a floundering around to put something into words in order to clarify it.

Barefoot Singing seeks to uncover,

to rediscover,

the natural function of the body

One of the aspects of barefoot running that I love the most is that there is a great respect for the design of the human foot.  Barefoot runners learn that -- contrary to what they may have always heard -- the arch does not need to be supported from some outside source, like a man made shoe.  The arch of the foot is a thing of beauty capable of providing the spring action necessary to propel the human above. It is not fragile; it is strong and wonderful! That arch may be in an underdeveloped and weakened state from years of wearing shoes, but it will be restored and strengthened once it is being used the way it was designed to be used by nature.

Besides the arch of the foot being weakened, the years of wearing poorly designed shoes may have malformed the foot, crowding the toes together and eliminating the natural splay of the toes while barefoot, losing the advantage of the natural alignment of each toe with each corresponding metatarsal head.  This misalignment has consequences that affect balance, and cause other muscles to be recruited to make up for the loss of function.  It may take some time, once the shoes come off, to redevelop the natural alignment again, and getting the other muscles to give up the compensatory job they've been doing.

From wearing shoes with a raised heel, the way the person approaches her relationship with the ground she walks on will have changed.  She may strike with her heel and her leg extended with a straight knee, instead of landing on her mid-foot with her knee bent in order to absorb the shock.

So ... "Barefoot Singing" will seek to discover the natural function of the voice.  The voice evolved from the expression of primal emotion, and the best sounds are produced when connected to that well of feeling.  Society has taught us to "protect" ourselves -- like when we put on shoes to protect our feet and support our arches -- by introducing tensions to suppress the natural expressive quality of the voice.  Like children who run barefoot in their youth but find out they have to put on shoes in order to fit into society, our voices which squealed freely with delight and cried at loud decibels found they had to be toned down and put in little boxes that hid our feelings instead of revealing them in order to get along in society.

As I explore this idea of the primal voice, I am reminded of an early influence -- work we did from a text we used in college by Kristin Linklater called Freeing the Natural Voice.  Some of these ideas were presented to me back then, and I hardly realized the influence they had on me until I awakened to this new desire to become a "barefoot singer."  I recently googled Kristin Linklater and found that she has a great web site with lots of information about her ideas about the voice and her work with actors to relax the tensions that interfere with the voice's expressive connection to that primal emotion.  In a sense that fits the thinking in this post, one could say that by helping the actors to remove the tensions, she is helping them to remove the shoes that are on the voice.  Barefoot runners are fond of calling shoes "foot coffins."  Are the tensions we develop to hide our true thoughts and emotions the same as "voice coffins?"

There are other vocal pedagogues who speak about this connection to the primal sound. Oren Brown, in his book Discover Your Voice, comes to mind as one. In fact, in the first chapter -- which is titled "Primal Sound" -- is written, "Primal sound is ... the reflexive sound which produces emotional expression."  He also says "You must rediscover yourself," because of how our coordination has been impaired from the tendency to inhibit it. And Stephen Smith, in his book The Naked Voice discusses the desirability for singers to reconnect with original source of utterance and the inhibitions introduced to the voice by "environmental contaminants"

This all reminds me of how it felt to take off my "inhibitive" shoes and rediscover and reconnect with how it felt to go barefoot after all these years of wearing shoes everywhere.  I thought that when I tried barefoot running it would be a new experience, but instead I rediscovered an old one.  It felt very familiar, but I had not felt that feeling for many years.  It was so freeing.


So, this idea of rediscovering the primal sound is not new to vocal pedagogy as a foundation for good singing.  It's out there.  It's the starting place.  It's common sense.  It's understanding that the body does know how to sing.

I'm not saying that there is not some learning to do.  It's just that the starting place has to be a trust in the wisdom and design of the custom apparatus that is built-in to humans that serves this use.  We have to take off the shoes we have put on our voices and find out what our voices have to teach us about what the capabilities are.  We need teachers and guides, (the barefoot runners have teachers and guides too), but we must not abandon the trust in the body itself to know how to sing.  We must not forget that -- like the feet that teach the barefoot runner how to run again -- our voices themselves hold a primary place amongst our teachers and we must learn to listen to what our voices are trying to tell us.

"Barefoot Singing"

Dear Readers,

You have been with me since the beginning of this blog two years ago.  Each post I have offered you has been a little snapshot.  In the beginning, frequent snapshots, and as we've moved along, more occasional snapshots, of my quest and life as a developing avocational singer.

Just because you haven't heard from me does not mean that a lot of singing and growing has not gone on in between these snapshot moments I have offered you.  My quest to master my singing voice and find out exactly who I am as a singer has continued, even though as part of that quest you have seen me apparently side-tracked by Kung Fu, or the new-found interest in Barefoot Running.

If any of you have clicked over on the Barefoot Fresca blog, you have seen me be very active over there exploring a completely new experience.  Barefoot running actually ended up shaking up my world and changing a lot of the way I feel and think about things.  Barefoot running became the portal into being able to experience the utmost fulfillment and enjoyment of being a runner.  It was a niche that was waiting for me to find it.  It was a category of runner to which, heretofore unknown to me, I already belonged which had been waiting to reveal itself to me. All I had needed to do to find it was to take off my shoes.

For some time now, I have been mulling over just what way some of the experiences and knowledge from barefoot running might apply to the singing life.  If I found a niche in the running world that suits me so well, are there aspects of this niche that apply to me as a singer as well?

If I am a Barefoot Runner, is there some way that I can be a Barefoot Singer?

In the next post I will undertake the bold task of defining a new singing category, one that, like with the barefoot running, I belong to without having hitherto known I belonged.  One that suits me and is authentic to my experience as a person and as a singer. This shall become my new path, or perhaps not so new a path but rather a path that I have been on, but which shall now be more clearly defined for me and for all of you, and given a name.  The name assigned shall be a light upon the path.  The name of the new category will be "Barefoot Singing."

I am foggy on just exactly what "Barefoot Singing" will and should be, but in the next post I plan to shoot out some preliminary ideas and maybe as we go along, it will become clearer.

I know a couple of things already that this path will do.  It will, as barefoot running does, question conventional wisdom. It will demonstrate that there are other ways to think about things.  It will defy usual and standard recommendations. Stay posted!

Sincerely,

"Avocational Singer,"  
henceforth AKA "The Barefoot Singer"

What a Kung Fu Black Sash Test Has to Teach About Approaching a Song

On my other blog, Barefoot Fresca, I just finished up a post demonstrating, with illustrations and videos, a practice session I had in preparation for a re-test I am taking in Kung Fu this week.  It occurred to me that much of what I was doing was similar to the kind of analysis and breakdown that is often necessary for a singer when she wants to intimately understand a piece of music.

First, check out the post here:

"If at First You Don't Succeed -- Practice!"

Now that you've done that, I'll show you what I mean about the approach being the same.

What I was practicing in the blog post was getting into my sparring gear in 3 minutes or less.

The Run-through
The first thing I did was a run-through to see where I was at.  I video-taped the run-through to help with my analysis of the state of things.  This is like recording or videotaping a run-through of singing a song.

Next, I impartially observed the outcome of the taping.  While I succeeded to get my Kung Fu sparring gear on in 3 minutes, there were little areas of concern which, when nervous, might cause problems and cost seconds during the re-test. I made a note of where these areas of concern were and planned to visit each area separately in the next part of the practice session.

This is what a singer can do, circling the places in the music, specific measures that are causing problems, not secure, or display some kind of potential trouble or that might make the whole thing fall apart when under pressure during a performance.

Trouble Spot Number 1-- The Sparring Shoes
I noticed during the video, and also remembered from the actual experience as well, that there is sometimes confusion with putting on the Kung Fu shoes.  Before taking a close look at the matter, the two shoes looked identical to me.  That's because I had been observing the shoes while "on the fly" and I had never actually stopped to examine them.

This can happen when we just keep trying to learn a piece of music by singing straight through it over and over again.  We may think that two particular musical phrases are identical, but when we stop to study the two phrases, which might be in different places in the music, we discover that there is a slight difference to them.

When I examined the Kung Fu sparring shoes, I found out that there was, indeed a left one and a right one.  Not only that, I discovered that the shoes were shaped differently, one having a wider rounder toe box, and the other having a narrower, pointier one.

Two phrases in the same piece of music may have subtle differences like that also.  Perhaps the same phrase starts on a different beat of the measure in one place than the other.  Perhaps there is one note added to a little run, or an extra rest stuck in there.  Taking the time to examine exactly what is happening brings greater understanding.

Once I knew there was a left and a right shoe, I found another surprise.  I had assumed that the two shoes would mirror each other and that the manner of fastening the shoes would be the same.  I discovered that my assumption was wrong and that the strap of the shoe went in the same direction for both shoes.

Sometimes, before we look closely, we might make an assumption about a section of music based on some other song we have sung and not realize that our assumption has caused us to learn the section wrong.

Trouble Spot Number 2 -- The Glove
When I took my black sash test, I was unable to slip the glove on quickly enough because it gave me some trouble by being tightly closed, and also because I forgot there was a hand strap inside the glove.

There can be a part of the music that has a specific difficulty to it that throws the singer each time she gets to that spot.

To solve the glove problem, I developed a technique that I would use for putting on the glove.  By rehearsing this approach, I trained myself to do the same thing and set myself up right so I could put the glove on faster and with less effort.  First, I opened the glove.  Adding that step ensured that the other parts of the task were easier.

With the difficult music section, often there is a constriction, just like the closed glove.  Learning how to remain open can often lead the way to better handling the section.

This is a dumb little post, but I hope you have been able to see how the process is the same.  I now know that sparring gear inside and out.  I know the pitfalls and problems and I've developed and practiced strategies.  When the nerves of the moment hit, I will know exactly where I am at all times.  This is the kind of preparation and readiness that is also needed to perform a song well too!

How to Love Your Voice

When singer's are recommended to "love their voice" what does that mean exactly?  The first inclination might be to think it means to love the sound of one's voice.  But doesn't that bring to mind the mythological Narcissus, who fell in love with his own reflection in the water?  It seems like there must be a healthier version of loving one's voice than that.

What examples of loving something could serve as a model to love the voice?

One of the most wonderful examples of love, when it's done right, is the love of a mother for her children.  So, one way for a singer to love her voice is to love it the way a mother loves a child.

A mother feeds her child nutritious food to help keep her child's body growing and repairing itself healthy and strong.  She doesn't give her child junk to eat.

A singer can love her voice by caring about nutrition and eating in a way that helps the cells, tendons, muscles, etc... involved in singing to repair and maintain themselves healthily.

A mother observes when her child is getting tired, often evident because the child begins to behave differently, and takes that child for a "time out" so the child can become integrated and peaceful again.  She notices what situations and conditions are prerequisites for this dis-integration and plans and foresees potential problems.

A singer can do that with her voice too, paying close attention to different behaviors that signal it is time for a rest, and observing and learning what kinds of situations lead to the disintegration of the voice.

A mother ensures that her child get the needed amounts of sleep, even to the point of forcing the child to go to bed at a much earlier time than the child wants to.

A singer needs that kind of rest to function optimally, and sometimes singers, like athletes, might have to forego late night social events in order to get adequate rest for optimal functioning.

A mother researches and  finds the best schools, television programs, books she can afford in order to inform her child of the higher path of learning.  A mother sacrifices having luxury items and provides the lessons, teachers and materials she feels are better.

A singer strives to give her voice the best education possible to give her voice every advantage of learning. A singer makes financial sacrifices to in order to provide her voice with better instruction and materials.

A mother who loves her child listens to that child and tries to truly hear and understand what her child is telling her -- especially when the child is telling her, "something is wrong; I am not comfortable with this; I am being harmed by this situation" -- and believe and take the information into account when she decides things for that child.

So, also, a singer who loves her voice learns to listen to her voice when it says, "this just doesn't feel right to me."

A good mother disciplines a child.  She says "no" when it is right to do that.  She makes that child observe a schedule of some sort, and helps the child develop and practice routines and regular positive habits.  She catches little things and bad habits that could cause bigger problems later if not addressed early.

Yet a mother permits her child to make mistakes, knowing that it is okay to make mistakes and even necessary in order to learn.  She is patient with her child, knowing that perfection is too much to expect of one so young and inexperienced.  She recognizes what is "too much too soon" and celebrates the strengths her child already possesses.  She has reasonable expectations.  Yet she also recognizes potential and has vision for what the child can become.

A mother accepts her child.  She does not compare her child to others.  She would not trade her child for any other child in the world.  She does not try to mold that child into some preconceived image, but steps back and observes and discovers just who this little person is.  She tries to find out where the child's natural passions and interests lie, and then nurtures and explores that interest with the child, assisting the child in reaching his/her potential.  She lets that child be who that child was meant to be.  She allows the child to be free.

A singer accepts her voice.  She does not compare her voice to others.  She would not trade her own voice for any other voice in the world. She does not try to mold that voice into some preconceived image, but steps back and observes and discovers just what this voice she has been given is.  She tries to find out where the voice's natural passions and interests lie, and then nurtures and explores that interest with her voice, assisting the voice in reaching its potential.  She lets the voice be what the voice was meant to be.  She allows the voice to be free.

Finally, when all is said and done, a mother shares her child with the world.  As she watches her child go forth to achieve his own personal mission in the world,  she feels very proud of her child.  If she sees her child doing good out there in the world, she has the reward of seeing efforts of her love blessing not just her own child, but all who come in contact with that child.

Inventing a Singing Form like Tai Chi Form

I was reading this about Tai Chi today:

The solo form should take the students through a complete, natural range of motion over their center of gravity. Accurate, repeated practice of the solo routine is said to retrain posture, encourage circulation throughout the students' bodies, maintain flexibility through their joints, and further familiarize students with the martial application sequences implied by the forms. (From Wikipedia article --  Tai Chi Chuan)

I was thinking of how great it would be to have a single form that could accomplish things like this for the voice for the singer to practice every day.  This single singing form would take the singer through a complete, natural range of motion over their "center of gravity."  To me, the "center of gravity" could be a place of balanced phonation.

I once invented an exercise that I thought could accomplish something like this, only I was vaguely aware of what my intentions were.  I called it a Figure 8.  I don't know if my exercise was really any good, but my attempt to create a "form" with this Figure 8 exercise was headed in the right direction.  I was trying to find a "center of gravity" within the singing voice that could serve as a kind of unifying theory of voice.  Usually when someone is studying voice, one of the big problems is not having a center.  It seems as if the voice is "broken" into two (or many) segments:  the registers.  In my feeble attempt to try to unify it, I thought that finding a central place, a place that was the "heart" of the singing voice, I might be able to devise a way of training and moving and coordinating all the complex muscular adjustments and movement so that there was some kind of smooth form the voice could work through.

My first thought was that this "center" could be the place where the action of the thyro-arytenoids (TA)and the crico-thyroids (CT) were exactly equal participation.

But what I didn't realize when I was devising this theory, was that I had formed a wrong idea of where this place in the voice of equal TA-CT participation was.  It was a sloppy mistake, because all I had to do was think about it for a minute or two, but -- well, I'm sure I'm not the first theoretician to have formulated a theory with inexact or incomplete information.  I'm sure scientists do it all the time, and merely revise their theories as new and better information comes their way, either to their personal understanding, or to the understanding of the community at large.

(One of the really great things about being an amateur, by the way, is that the penalties for being wrong are small and mostly inconsequential.  I'm doing it for fun and interest and passion and I've got time to be wrong.  In fact, however much I would like to, if I never achieve my goal in this life it really doesn't matter much at all. What matters is that I occupied my time pursuing something that brings me enjoyment and fulfillment.)

I have not abandoned a desire to understand/discover/define a kind of "center" of the voice.  My most recent inclination is to dub the glottal opening itself as the "center" and declare that the glottal opening is the stabilizing point because the objective is for it to stay in the same place while all the other mechanical and moving parts surrounding it and affecting it adjust and change.  All kinds of things are happening around this space, but it remains a stable centering point within the cyclone of activity.  It is a strange thought that a space, something that contains no matter and that is empty, might be thought of as the center of something, similar to the eye of the storm.  In that case, there would have to be no rigidity, no fixing.  The space is just there, and everything else moves around it, with that as the point of reference

I think the idea of the glottal space works better than my original idea of making a specific muscular position (i.e., point of equal participation of TA/CT) the center, because that muscular position would not remain the same throughout the whole range of motion.  By thinking of the opening itself as the center, that opening would remain in the same spot while things were changing around it.  There would be no "coming back" to that position because it would always be maintained.

Okay, but back to the idea of a form that would take the singer through  a complete range of motion surrounding that opening may not be as feasible as it is for the Tai Chi practitioner to do it in a Tai Chi form.  One of the reasons it works in Tai Chi is that there can be a continuous flow of movement for an extended period of time.  With the voice, there is always a need to interrupt the continuity in order to replenish the supply of air.  So, one long continuous all-encompassing form that covers all bases may not be the right answer.

I guess disciplines evolve the way they do for a reason.  In the tradition of training the vocal apparatus, a whole bunch of different kinds of exercises are needed in order to move and develop various different skills and qualities and train the different and varying actions of the muscles involved in singing.  So, maybe the quest for some kind of unifying, all-encompassing routine for the voice that could take care of everything with one daily swoop is not realistically attainable.  As appealing an idea as it is, perhaps there is no master form that can be developed that could accomplish all vocal conditioning in one fell swoop.

That leaves the singer with the task of picking and choosing from thousands of potential exercises and drills and making up a routine of their own for daily vocal mastery practice, which is always a confusing and formidable task.