There I was sitting on the piano bench, arms limp at my sides. The depressive ruminations swirling in my head were immense. With each negative thought, my body slumped a slight bit further on that same bench where I had so often sat with such very good posture.
"Why should I touch this instrument when no one is ever going to ask me to play." "I'll never play for anyone." "No one needs my skill on this thing." "I have nothing to learn." "What should I start to work on?" "There's no place to perform." And on and on.
So, having mentally and emotionally wiped the slate clean of all the motivations used from the past to play, I had to ask myself the question, "Well, if all that is true, is it still worth playing? Why play? And if I do play, what should I play?"
I glanced over at a book of Chopin: Complete Ballades, Impromptus, and Sonatas.
There's only one piece in that book that I've played. Why don't I just take a look at the other stuff.
Over the next couple of hours I fumbled and hesitated as I sight read through most every piece in the book, getting a picture, an overview, of the contents.
Will there be something I fall in love with and desire to play?
The sonatas. Sonata number 2. Oh! The funeral march. Sure, why not?
And then I came to the Finale of Sonata number 2. The Presto movement. Wow, this is hard! Could I ever play this? I could never learn this. I shouldn't try. I should try to perfect something within my level. Yet, it would be a challenge. And I'm in no hurry, after all. I could just take as much time as I wanted. I could learn it inch-by-inch.
So I made a plan to challenge myself. I will learn 2 measures a day and memorize them. I calculated it out. At that rate, I'll have this thing committed to memory in 4 or 5 months. And then it will only be the beginning of working endlessly to improve it. And I will have forever to the end of my life to improve it.
Every day thereafter, I sat down and worked on my two measures a day. Within a couple of weeks I had 3/4 of the first page memorized. Amazingly, I could actually see the possibility now of playing this thing. Would I really be able to speed it up? Lots and lots of SLOW practice. Then, I "saw" a way of being able to play it faster. Rolled chords. I will just treat everything like rolled chords, using the patterns I see on the keyboard! This piece is now coming within my grasp.
Also within that time-frame, just because it caught my fancy, I decided to really perfect the accompaniment to Liber Scriptus from the Verdi Requiem, which is a song that I have been practicing with my voice for a while. On the second page, there were all these sextuplets in the left hand that I was mostly just faking and sloppily approximating when I played through the piece. After all, it was not really written as a piano piece. It was for an orchestra. We're just trying to get the idea here. Does it really even need to be so precise? It will all just blur with the pedal anyway. And yet. And yet the way it was written was very specific. Perhaps, just as an exercise, I'll commit myself to learning it properly.
Carefully, I broke down those measures and commited to analyzing them and practicing them very slowly. It must have been so boring for my family to listen to it. Sometimes for a full two hours I would work on the same 4 bars of music. Slowly, meticulously. Did those amazing pianists who accompanied me practice it this way? Seems like they just sit down and sight read it. Are they faking/approximating it? I didn't notice. I will have to notice what they are doing next time they play for me.
A week later, those 4 bars came together. Now -- at last! -- was the thunder, the fire and brimstone, the ominous warning in the rumbling flowing out of the left hand! What satisfaction!
My husband passed by and remarked, "That sounds so incredible!"
I retorted, "Yeah, it only took me a week of incredible labor to play just these 4 bars!"
My husband said, "Don't diminish the compliment I just gave you."
I thought about it for a bit. No, I'm not diminishing the compliment. It's just that I would prefer to be acknowledged and complimented for the work I did over the past week than for the result I've achieved.
And that was it! Eureka! I found the reason to play when there was no audience, no performance opportunity, no opportunity to accompany anyone. It was the work itself. The work itself was the pleasure!
The highs and lows, successes and failures, smarts and stupids, joys and pains, ridiculousness and sublimity -- and -- the yin and the yang of one person's quest to master her singing voice and not give up, even if it takes a lifetime.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Monday, February 25, 2013
Dramatic Intention
Are you having trouble, like some singers do, getting in touch with and expressing the dramatic intentions of your songs and arias?
Me too. It's been frustrating me for a long time now.
But recently, the art of making salad enlightened me on this topic.
What? Did she say making salad? Really?
Yes, making salad. You see, when I was first trying to teach myself all about food and how to cook, I once read that the proper way to make salad was to tear the lettuce leaves, not cut them. It was something about the way the dressing was going to adhere to the torn edges or something. (Or maybe it wasn't that -- so long ago, hard to remember).
So, in the early years, I dutifully refrained from cutting and carefully tore all the lettuce for my family's salads.
As the years passed, I stopped making salad because it was so much trouble, and we didn't have it as often.
Then one day, I was reading this great book, How to Cook Without a Book, where the author, Pam Anderson, tells you to just chop up the lettuce for the salad.
What? She is chopping the lettuce? That's so quick and easy! She says that when she wants it to look nice, and she has the time she tears it, but otherwise she chops.
My eyes were opened to what I had done. I had been depriving my family of salad because I thought it was wrong to chop the lettuce. They were getting no salad at all! I realized that chopping the lettuce is better than giving them no salad at all!
Well, this is something like what I did with the dramatic intentions of my songs and arias. I learned in acting school that I should not play attitudes. (In this analogy, playing attitudes is like chopping the lettuce.) "Playing attitudes," if I am remembering this correctly is just taking on an emotion, such as anger, and adopting a general angry attitude because the character is angry, but not really living in the character and being angry for the reasons that character is angry, and responding to stimuli that the character is experiencing.
Little did I know that by not allowing myself to play an attitude I was making the salad mistake. I wouldn't let myself play attitudes, yet I wasn't getting to the dramatic intention the better way either, so what was left was just a nervous person trying to get through a song and not expressing anything much in particular -- no salad at all!
I have decided that if it is simpler for me to play an attitude, that is better than not coming up with anything at all. I am releasing myself from this "rule" I have imposed on myself all these years, that I can't play an attitude. I say now, go ahead and get there any way you can. Playing an attitude is much more interesting than no salad at all!
If you can't find all the deep stuff in your song, fall back on playing an attitude for now. Maybe you'll get better at the other stuff later, the more advanced character work.
Me too. It's been frustrating me for a long time now.
But recently, the art of making salad enlightened me on this topic.
What? Did she say making salad? Really?
Yes, making salad. You see, when I was first trying to teach myself all about food and how to cook, I once read that the proper way to make salad was to tear the lettuce leaves, not cut them. It was something about the way the dressing was going to adhere to the torn edges or something. (Or maybe it wasn't that -- so long ago, hard to remember).
So, in the early years, I dutifully refrained from cutting and carefully tore all the lettuce for my family's salads.
As the years passed, I stopped making salad because it was so much trouble, and we didn't have it as often.
Then one day, I was reading this great book, How to Cook Without a Book, where the author, Pam Anderson, tells you to just chop up the lettuce for the salad.
What? She is chopping the lettuce? That's so quick and easy! She says that when she wants it to look nice, and she has the time she tears it, but otherwise she chops.
My eyes were opened to what I had done. I had been depriving my family of salad because I thought it was wrong to chop the lettuce. They were getting no salad at all! I realized that chopping the lettuce is better than giving them no salad at all!
Well, this is something like what I did with the dramatic intentions of my songs and arias. I learned in acting school that I should not play attitudes. (In this analogy, playing attitudes is like chopping the lettuce.) "Playing attitudes," if I am remembering this correctly is just taking on an emotion, such as anger, and adopting a general angry attitude because the character is angry, but not really living in the character and being angry for the reasons that character is angry, and responding to stimuli that the character is experiencing.
Little did I know that by not allowing myself to play an attitude I was making the salad mistake. I wouldn't let myself play attitudes, yet I wasn't getting to the dramatic intention the better way either, so what was left was just a nervous person trying to get through a song and not expressing anything much in particular -- no salad at all!
I have decided that if it is simpler for me to play an attitude, that is better than not coming up with anything at all. I am releasing myself from this "rule" I have imposed on myself all these years, that I can't play an attitude. I say now, go ahead and get there any way you can. Playing an attitude is much more interesting than no salad at all!
If you can't find all the deep stuff in your song, fall back on playing an attitude for now. Maybe you'll get better at the other stuff later, the more advanced character work.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
When Vocal Difficulties Cease to Exist
"From the easy, unconstrained motion of the fingers, from the beautiful touch, from the clearness and precision in connecting the successive tones, from the advantages of the new mode of fingering, from the equal development and practice of all the fingers of both hands, and, lastly, from the great variety of his figures of melody, which were employed in every piece in a new and uncommon manner, Sebastian Bach at length acquired such a high degree of facility and, we may almost say, unlimited power over his instrument in all the keys that difficulties almost ceased to exist for him."
These words popped as they appeared before my eyes in a biography of Bach I had been reading (Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician, by Christoph Wolff).
The little bubble of excitement, desire, and enlightenment they stirred up in the pit of my stomach made me want to just jump out of my bed at 11:00 at night and go down and practice voice. (Of course, I waited for the morning.)
This is what a student of voice works for his/her whole life. To get to the point where vocal difficulties almost cease to exist. To reach the point of vocal freedom. To have unlimited power over our instrument. To have an unconstrained motion of the musical sung phrase. A beautiful touch, onset. Clearness and precision in connecting successive tones, legato. To employ ourselves in every piece in a new and uncommon manner!
Ah ... the stuff dreams are made of.
It has been roughly 27-28 years since I embarked on this journey, although the quest to surmount the difficulties was present in my singing before I ever took a lesson, so in a sense, I've been trying to solve the mysteries of the vocal difficulties my entire life!!
Finally, I can say that I am getting somewhere. Many difficulties have ceased to exist for me, and I see the possibility of present difficulties being solved as well.
What took so long? There was a major big imbalance blocking my way for so many years, and there had not come along anyone who was able to identify or explain it to me, and there had not come along anyone who could specifically address the issue. Removal of this major imbalance required me to let go. Let go of a grip I had on my voice that somewhere along the line had convinced me it needed to be there in order to have control.
At long last I have got myself in a situation where this imbalance has been identified and addressed and it is opening up my voice to it's true nature! It's a very happy time, even though it has come late in my life.
Monday, July 11, 2011
First Element of "Barefoot Singing" -- Back to Nature
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.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
"Barefoot Singing"
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"
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
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!
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!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Inventing a Singing Form like Tai Chi Form
I was reading this about Tai Chi today:
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.
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.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Local Music Groups Like Local Farm Movement
What does that expression I've head so much -- "to serve art" -- really mean? As an avocational singer, I feel that I'm beginning to come closer to an understanding of what it means. As I now am participating in two local musical choirs, and come into contact with all the excellent voices and musicianship surrounding me, and experience the leadership of very musical and accomplished directors, it has been given me a great joy to finally begin to realize that music as an art can be served in so many ways at so many places and so many times. It doesn't depend on the venue, necessarily. The presence of a person dedicated to serving art in a small local group can make the difference for everyone.
I am still glowing from the holiday concert this past weekend given by our all-women's community choir. We sang to a packed house. We have been here seven years and now have a local following and our concerts are full of warmth and love. Our families, children, neighbors, local shopkeepers, all gather together and we all just have a great evening together. We've all helped to produce it -- from the families that made do without the family member who was rehearsing, to the friends that set aside the date and bought a ticket to come in, to the local businesses that bought an ad in the program -- each and every one of us has cause to celebrate the fact that this production is happening because of a contribution we made that makes a difference. As a community, we have produced some art and it is special because it is our own.
I had a little solo in Britten's Ceremony of Carols. Afterward, I was presented with the customary little bouquet of flowers, and as I walked to the back of the church at the end of the concert, my daughter and several of her friends gathered around me, a bouquet of flowers of a different kind. Their faces were shining and smiling and they wanted to talk to me because I was someone they knew in the choir. I loved them there with me so much that I wanted to give them something, so I began to pluck flowers out of my bouquet and hand one to each of the girls. "You don't have to do that!" they protested, as if I was giving away something so precious and valuable. But the sight of them walking away with a flower was so beautiful I could think of no better way to enjoy that bouquet of flowers (Besides, I kept the ones I really loved -- the roses).
I think it could be so beautiful to grow a movement to support local music groups something like the movement to support local farmers and growers within the community. The little choirs and chamber groups and small opera companies (like the one I saw in Princeton this past summer) remind me so much of the small farmers. While the farmers are planting seeds, using their organic farming methods, and producing crops to bring to the local farmer's market, the small community music groups are selecting their repertoire, rehearsing and growing their musical performances to bring to the center of the town for consumption by the community.
The way our community choir is bringing us together to partake of the same musical experience unifies us, just like sharing the same food does, even if for one evening. It is a very inspiring and beautiful thing and I think it cuts to the heart, perhaps, of what being an avocational singer is truly all about.
And the children who are there absorb this music, and seeds are being sewn in their hearts that serves to keep the music alive from generation to generation. Who knows what will come of it?
Saturday, October 30, 2010
A New Era for Singing
Well, it's time for me to come over and start paying attention to my poor little Avocational Singer blog. Things have been so hopping over on the Barefoot Fresca blog that I've gotten a little sidetracked over there, but I can never forget my little labor of love over here where my first passion lies.
Where to start -- where to start -- where to start?!? There is just so much going on. Some of the events over the summer and some of the thoughtful decisions I've made have catapulted me into a new era of my singing life.
Let's try to break it down:
------------------------------------Choir Number I-------------------------------------------
I am still singing with my beloved all-women's community choir. I was an inaugural member of this choir and the women there are like family to me. Just like in a family, when one member wants to branch out and grow and explore, the family member still wants to keep grounded with her sisters. So, I am kind of killing myself trying to sing in two choirs.
The interesting thing is that our choir director is on an exciting sabbatical overseas and we have an interim director who is raising the bar as far as our reading and the amount of material and the pace at which we need to learn it. This is kind of exciting, and since I'm being challenged in Choir Number II on this level it is fun to try to keep pace and apply new and developing skills.
--------------------------------------Choir Number II-----------------------------------------------
This has been so great for me. The choir director had told me, when I auditioned, that I would fall in about the middle of this choir as far as my level of mastery and technical ability and she was exactly right. I feel invigorated by the people around me -- the ones with more highly developed voices, technical mastery, and musicianship -- but also feel like I'm making a positive contribution to my section, and that my own skills and sound weigh in more on the plus side than the minus side. In other words, I don't think I'm a problem in the choir. (phew!) That fares me well in the "choir self-esteem" department.
One thing I love about the new choir is that the director is herself a masterful singer and knows about voice. She guides with really healthy principles. In addition, her knowledge and approach is close to what I am getting in my new voice lessons so one reinforces the other and I am making good progress. Sometimes what a singer has to do in choir can undermine what she is working for in lessons, so it feels really good for everything to be lined up just right. How'd I get so lucky?
Another thing I love about the new choir is that there is a focus on precision with breathing and consonants in the music. I had never heard of assigning an exact time value to a consonant before I read it this past summer in the Robert Shaw Reader
and now I am in a choir where I have to apply that concept. You know how when you learn a new word, all of a sudden you start hearing it all over the place? Well, that's what this was like.
Some people don't need things broken down to that extent (or maybe they do -- who knows?), but I am benefiting greatly from breaking it all down.
--------------------------------------Voice Lessons----------------------------------------------------
I've only had a couple, but I would definitely say my new lessons with my new teacher are going very well. I definitely feel that I am in the right place for me vocally at this point in time. The teacher is extremely knowledgeable and I am enjoying the time spent in lessons immensely and I am also enjoying some of the good things that are happening vocally towards mastery.
All in all, exciting things are happening -- if -- if I can keep up the pace. The new schedule requires me to be on top of more things: reading e-mails from two different choir directors and two different board directors, supporting the fund raising for two different choirs, helping concerts to be successful by promoting them for two different choirs, managing a new protocol for setting up and getting to voice lessons, learning two sets of music and trying to remember which folder to bring to which rehearsal.
It seems like, with two choirs, the week comes around again so fast and I hadn't got a chance to work on my music. Or I've only had a chance to look at one or two key pieces.
I believe that during this time of transition I'll be all mixed up for a little while, but will eventually get it all organized and in place. There is a learning curve when new things are introduced into a schedule and I believe I can learn to manage what I've got. I will try it out for this year and see what happens. It's a lot of fun and it really keeps me on my toes.
Where to start -- where to start -- where to start?!? There is just so much going on. Some of the events over the summer and some of the thoughtful decisions I've made have catapulted me into a new era of my singing life.
Let's try to break it down:
------------------------------------Choir Number I-------------------------------------------
I am still singing with my beloved all-women's community choir. I was an inaugural member of this choir and the women there are like family to me. Just like in a family, when one member wants to branch out and grow and explore, the family member still wants to keep grounded with her sisters. So, I am kind of killing myself trying to sing in two choirs.
The interesting thing is that our choir director is on an exciting sabbatical overseas and we have an interim director who is raising the bar as far as our reading and the amount of material and the pace at which we need to learn it. This is kind of exciting, and since I'm being challenged in Choir Number II on this level it is fun to try to keep pace and apply new and developing skills.
--------------------------------------Choir Number II-----------------------------------------------
This has been so great for me. The choir director had told me, when I auditioned, that I would fall in about the middle of this choir as far as my level of mastery and technical ability and she was exactly right. I feel invigorated by the people around me -- the ones with more highly developed voices, technical mastery, and musicianship -- but also feel like I'm making a positive contribution to my section, and that my own skills and sound weigh in more on the plus side than the minus side. In other words, I don't think I'm a problem in the choir. (phew!) That fares me well in the "choir self-esteem" department.
One thing I love about the new choir is that the director is herself a masterful singer and knows about voice. She guides with really healthy principles. In addition, her knowledge and approach is close to what I am getting in my new voice lessons so one reinforces the other and I am making good progress. Sometimes what a singer has to do in choir can undermine what she is working for in lessons, so it feels really good for everything to be lined up just right. How'd I get so lucky?
Another thing I love about the new choir is that there is a focus on precision with breathing and consonants in the music. I had never heard of assigning an exact time value to a consonant before I read it this past summer in the Robert Shaw Reader
and now I am in a choir where I have to apply that concept. You know how when you learn a new word, all of a sudden you start hearing it all over the place? Well, that's what this was like.Some people don't need things broken down to that extent (or maybe they do -- who knows?), but I am benefiting greatly from breaking it all down.
--------------------------------------Voice Lessons----------------------------------------------------
I've only had a couple, but I would definitely say my new lessons with my new teacher are going very well. I definitely feel that I am in the right place for me vocally at this point in time. The teacher is extremely knowledgeable and I am enjoying the time spent in lessons immensely and I am also enjoying some of the good things that are happening vocally towards mastery.
All in all, exciting things are happening -- if -- if I can keep up the pace. The new schedule requires me to be on top of more things: reading e-mails from two different choir directors and two different board directors, supporting the fund raising for two different choirs, helping concerts to be successful by promoting them for two different choirs, managing a new protocol for setting up and getting to voice lessons, learning two sets of music and trying to remember which folder to bring to which rehearsal.
It seems like, with two choirs, the week comes around again so fast and I hadn't got a chance to work on my music. Or I've only had a chance to look at one or two key pieces.
I believe that during this time of transition I'll be all mixed up for a little while, but will eventually get it all organized and in place. There is a learning curve when new things are introduced into a schedule and I believe I can learn to manage what I've got. I will try it out for this year and see what happens. It's a lot of fun and it really keeps me on my toes.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Gentleness in Singing
There is nothing so strong as gentleness and gentleness is real strength.
(Francis de Sales)I once asked my very first voice teacher, “Do you have to be really strong to sing high notes?”
She answered, “Yes, but it’s not the kind of strength you think.”
I have always remembered that answer as something of a mystery. And finally in my life I’m beginning to understand the mystery.
Don’t manhandle your voice. A soft sigh is the way to great resonance and sound. This is what I’m discovering. A very gentle beginning will carry you very far.
Did you ever watch the classic scenario of a child with a toy that wouldn’t go? At first she tries to get the object to go every which way, and then at some point – when she can’t figure it out – she starts slamming the toy harder and harder and trying to force it to perform the desired action. The frustration becomes enormous and the effort grows greater and greater. The child doesn’t seem to understand that her method is wrong. She makes the mistake of thinking she is not powerful enough to make the toy work, and she concludes that she needs more strength and more and more force to achieve her ends, and doesn’t understand that what she really needs is a new approach.
I have been down that path and made that mistake as I’ve literally engaged in a wrestling match with my voice over the years in my attempts to master it. Buy nowadays I have been discovering that what I perceive as small is actually the key to getting big and beautiful sound. I think this “smallness” is what Jean-Ronald Lafond refers to when he writes on his blog about “the little voice.”
I have recently been doing some exercises to find my falsetto voice. Apparently women have falsetto too but it isn’t as obvious because of women’s head voice. I always thought that falsetto, if I would bother to play around with it, would be something that would occur in my higher range. But I have been experimenting with finding it throughout my entire range, including the lower. In the process of doing these exercises, which I shall post in Frescamari’s Practice Room at some point, after only a day or two I was surprise to find this soft little cooing voice.
This is a voice that many women singers may already be aware of, but I -- with my big loud voice, coming from a family that spoke very vigorously because we had to compete to be heard -- was not accustomed to nor familiar with this soft approach.
I have begun to use this little voice to sing songs. To my surprise, when I played the recordings back, the sound was big, resonant and beautiful. The wobble or distortion that often crept into my singing has receded, because the forcing that was causing it has ceased and my apparatus is responding to the more gentle approach.
I do find that I have to be very strong to use this voice. Even stronger, in fact, then when I mistakenly let loose all the other kind of strength that I had. The strength is hard to describe, and it is not what I thought it would be. I’ve heard some singers say it is isometric strength. At any rate, it is not for those that cower at the thought of using great effort. But it is finally an effort that is being used constructively, as opposed to destructively, like the child banging the toy to try to get it to work.
I am very excited about this discovery. It is leading me to a greater versatility.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Click here to hear some samples.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Open My Mouth -- And Sing!
The kind of singing I want to do is larger than life.
Like a lot of things that are larger than life, it doesn't feel natural when first put on. So, for a person who wants to feel natural, there can be a resistance to doing things the larger way.
When I was first learning Tai Chi forms, I learned a compact kind of form where the movements were small.
But then I moved on to learning a different form where the movements were longer and extended and took up more space. At first no one explained to me that the new form was bigger, so I was still doing it with the smaller gestures.
It takes a kind of boldness to use the larger gestures. It takes an openness and more strength. It takes more energy and commitment. It is a fuller use of self.
The reason the larger version is not comfortable or natural-feeling is because it is not within our repertoire of self-expression yet. We never needed our expression to be that large for our daily life. But something from a distance needs to be larger to be seen and heard.
I remember when I was in high school, our English teacher picked three of us from the class -- me and two of my girlfriends -- to paint a mural on the back wall of his classroom. Up until that point, I had drawn on small canvases. When I wanted to draw or paint a picture I used something close to 9" x 12." Now as I confronted the task of blowing up my vision and seeing something bigger, my brush strokes had to be bigger. I had to reach above my head and go all the way down to my feet with my paintbrush. I had to use my whole body to paint, not just my hand and arm and shoulder muscles. I had to work on a section while keeping a much larger picture in mind. I had to understand when I was painting detail that it was going to be a small part of the whole, even though it seemed so large in front of me.
It's one thing to draw a 1" circle on a piece of paper, or a 4" circle or an 8" circle. The bigger the circle gets, the larger the motion you have to use while holding the pencil. But when we were painting that mural, we might have to draw a 6-foot circle. Now a circle always comes out better when it is drawn with one or two big motions as opposed to chipped away at in choppy little sections. The sense of roundness is different.
I am finally starting to understand just how big the kind of singing I want to be able to do is.
Part of the detail work, a part of singing which seemed so small, is to get my mouth open. I must learn a larger way to form vowels, and work with a much larger space.
It is time to open my mouth now.
Like a lot of things that are larger than life, it doesn't feel natural when first put on. So, for a person who wants to feel natural, there can be a resistance to doing things the larger way.
When I was first learning Tai Chi forms, I learned a compact kind of form where the movements were small.
But then I moved on to learning a different form where the movements were longer and extended and took up more space. At first no one explained to me that the new form was bigger, so I was still doing it with the smaller gestures.
It takes a kind of boldness to use the larger gestures. It takes an openness and more strength. It takes more energy and commitment. It is a fuller use of self.
The reason the larger version is not comfortable or natural-feeling is because it is not within our repertoire of self-expression yet. We never needed our expression to be that large for our daily life. But something from a distance needs to be larger to be seen and heard.
I remember when I was in high school, our English teacher picked three of us from the class -- me and two of my girlfriends -- to paint a mural on the back wall of his classroom. Up until that point, I had drawn on small canvases. When I wanted to draw or paint a picture I used something close to 9" x 12." Now as I confronted the task of blowing up my vision and seeing something bigger, my brush strokes had to be bigger. I had to reach above my head and go all the way down to my feet with my paintbrush. I had to use my whole body to paint, not just my hand and arm and shoulder muscles. I had to work on a section while keeping a much larger picture in mind. I had to understand when I was painting detail that it was going to be a small part of the whole, even though it seemed so large in front of me.
It's one thing to draw a 1" circle on a piece of paper, or a 4" circle or an 8" circle. The bigger the circle gets, the larger the motion you have to use while holding the pencil. But when we were painting that mural, we might have to draw a 6-foot circle. Now a circle always comes out better when it is drawn with one or two big motions as opposed to chipped away at in choppy little sections. The sense of roundness is different.
I am finally starting to understand just how big the kind of singing I want to be able to do is.
Part of the detail work, a part of singing which seemed so small, is to get my mouth open. I must learn a larger way to form vowels, and work with a much larger space.
It is time to open my mouth now.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Building From the Ground Up
Building My Running Form From Scratch
Over the summer, I had the very interesting experience of transforming myself into a Barefoot Runner. It is a development in my fitness life that I had never previously imagined, and there was a gradual sequence of events that led to my taking this path.
I have had conversations with a number of advanced shod runners who are attracted to barefoot running and kind of want to try it, but who have invested so much time in developing their running mileage that they are understandably reluctant to go back and start all over again. And that is what they would need to do -- start all over again -- should they want to learn how to run barefoot.
Because in order to learn the running form that bare feet can teach us, we have to forget almost everything we know about running and start from scratch.
Something I'm learning about barefoot runners in general -- as I acquaint myself with this movement -- is that often they are people, like me, who encountered injuries, limitations, or struggles with running that brought them to give the ideas in the barefoot running movement a try.
I was in an optimal situation to pick up this new running form. I had been trying to get back into running after many years of non-running. I was starting fresh after having taken 6 months off for an injury to my foot.
So, I didn't have to sacrifice mileage and conditioning in order to go back and re-form my running. I completely understand why someone who competes and has the legacy of all that mileage would not want to go back and be like a beginner again.
Building My Singing Voice From Scratch
Well, just like in my barefoot running, I am in the position where I'm going to be, yet again, building my voice from scratch.
I am very happy to say that I have been accepted into the studio of a new voice teacher whose vocal approach and philosophy are very appealing to me. The daunting aspect of it, however, is that it will mean building up from scratch again.
Yes, I am 49 years old and will be starting from scratch -- yet again! But, hey -- like with the barefoot running -- I'm not going anywhere. And I really have nothing to lose.
I will add that the process of getting into the studio of this teacher was a personal growth experience for me. Having been let go from the other vocal studio left me feeling a bit deflated, and for a while I felt a little unsure whether I would be fortunate enough to find a new situation where I could learn at the level I desired to be taught.
But some advice I read by guest blogger, Blue Yonder, in her post "An Avocational Singer Attends a NATS conference" inspired in me some courage to step up to the plate. In that post she had said,
My first lesson was wonderful. The teacher asked me to tell my singer's story. I told the teacher that I write a blog about my experiences of being an avocational singer. I explained that my defining mantra was: "I've been trying to learn to sing for 25+ years and I'm not giving up -- even if it takes a lifetime." The teacher smiled and said, "Good for you!"
I sang "Auf dem Wasser zu singen," by Schubert in the low key. -- (To hear me experimenting with three different keys on this song, check out the Frescamari Practice Room post: "Auf dem Wasser zu singen in three keys") -- I chose the low key because I usually start with the low key and proceed to the higher one once warmed up well. I told the teacher that I had taught this to myself using recordings and that I did not know German. The teacher complimented me on the work I had done on the German and said that my enjoyment of that kind of meticulous drilling and work on the pronunciation, syllable by syllable, was going to help me as I built my technique from scratch with the teacher.
After singing the song, the teacher told me that there was no reason in the world why I could not achieve my singing dream.
I walked away feeling very optimistic about commencing on this next phase of my singing journey. I realize that it's going to take a lot of patience. I learned a lot about this kind of patience while going round and round on what I termed The Barefoot Mile this past summer (mentioned in this post from Barefoot Fresca blog). I reflected on this experience in my barefoot running blog post "Patience."
As it turns out, something that may have seemed like a total diversionary side trip -- the excursion into barefoot running -- has developed a quality and frame of mind in me that will be needed as I start anew this next leg of my lifetime vocal journey.
Over the summer, I had the very interesting experience of transforming myself into a Barefoot Runner. It is a development in my fitness life that I had never previously imagined, and there was a gradual sequence of events that led to my taking this path.
I have had conversations with a number of advanced shod runners who are attracted to barefoot running and kind of want to try it, but who have invested so much time in developing their running mileage that they are understandably reluctant to go back and start all over again. And that is what they would need to do -- start all over again -- should they want to learn how to run barefoot.
Because in order to learn the running form that bare feet can teach us, we have to forget almost everything we know about running and start from scratch.
Something I'm learning about barefoot runners in general -- as I acquaint myself with this movement -- is that often they are people, like me, who encountered injuries, limitations, or struggles with running that brought them to give the ideas in the barefoot running movement a try.
I was in an optimal situation to pick up this new running form. I had been trying to get back into running after many years of non-running. I was starting fresh after having taken 6 months off for an injury to my foot.
So, I didn't have to sacrifice mileage and conditioning in order to go back and re-form my running. I completely understand why someone who competes and has the legacy of all that mileage would not want to go back and be like a beginner again.
Building My Singing Voice From Scratch
Well, just like in my barefoot running, I am in the position where I'm going to be, yet again, building my voice from scratch.
I am very happy to say that I have been accepted into the studio of a new voice teacher whose vocal approach and philosophy are very appealing to me. The daunting aspect of it, however, is that it will mean building up from scratch again.
Yes, I am 49 years old and will be starting from scratch -- yet again! But, hey -- like with the barefoot running -- I'm not going anywhere. And I really have nothing to lose.
I will add that the process of getting into the studio of this teacher was a personal growth experience for me. Having been let go from the other vocal studio left me feeling a bit deflated, and for a while I felt a little unsure whether I would be fortunate enough to find a new situation where I could learn at the level I desired to be taught.
But some advice I read by guest blogger, Blue Yonder, in her post "An Avocational Singer Attends a NATS conference" inspired in me some courage to step up to the plate. In that post she had said,
I do think it's important for us avocational singers to approach performance and training situations with the right attitude. I often have doubts and ask myself, "Do I belong here with these other singers who might be career-track? Can I cut it?" I realize now that I need to take the attitude: "I BELONG HERE!!!" Aim high and prepare to work hard--but once you get in, never question whether you belong in the program, regardless of whether you got in by audition, application, or just by putting your name on a signup sheet.Bearing this advice in mind, I decided to "go for it" and approach a high-level, well-known, very busy teacher whose studio included high-level singers on a career-track. I boldly signed up for a lesson with the teacher. The teacher asked me for a letter introducing myself. I was as honest as I could be at representing who I was as a singer, and I was delighted and surprised when the response I received was that the teacher would be most happy to confirm the trial lesson.
My first lesson was wonderful. The teacher asked me to tell my singer's story. I told the teacher that I write a blog about my experiences of being an avocational singer. I explained that my defining mantra was: "I've been trying to learn to sing for 25+ years and I'm not giving up -- even if it takes a lifetime." The teacher smiled and said, "Good for you!"
I sang "Auf dem Wasser zu singen," by Schubert in the low key. -- (To hear me experimenting with three different keys on this song, check out the Frescamari Practice Room post: "Auf dem Wasser zu singen in three keys") -- I chose the low key because I usually start with the low key and proceed to the higher one once warmed up well. I told the teacher that I had taught this to myself using recordings and that I did not know German. The teacher complimented me on the work I had done on the German and said that my enjoyment of that kind of meticulous drilling and work on the pronunciation, syllable by syllable, was going to help me as I built my technique from scratch with the teacher.
After singing the song, the teacher told me that there was no reason in the world why I could not achieve my singing dream.
I walked away feeling very optimistic about commencing on this next phase of my singing journey. I realize that it's going to take a lot of patience. I learned a lot about this kind of patience while going round and round on what I termed The Barefoot Mile this past summer (mentioned in this post from Barefoot Fresca blog). I reflected on this experience in my barefoot running blog post "Patience."
As it turns out, something that may have seemed like a total diversionary side trip -- the excursion into barefoot running -- has developed a quality and frame of mind in me that will be needed as I start anew this next leg of my lifetime vocal journey.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
I Am A Choir Singer
In the post where I was giving a little account about my time at the Westminster Choir Festival this summer, I mentioned the need to master my voice in such a way that I could sing well with a choir. A commenter, babydramatic, said this: "Since for good or for ill, most of my singing will be in a choir (or as one of their featured soloists) I have needed to do this and have been largely successful."
"Since for good or for ill, most of my singing will be in a choir."
This could be the refrain of the avocational singer.
Most of my thrust in trying to master my singing voice has been with the idea of solo singing in mind. But more of my singing and performing time is spent singing with others in my women's choir, and now a second choir which I have just joined.
So, paralleling my work on my solo voice, has always been a gradually growing appreciation of the skills that are necessary to sing with an ensemble. Since "for good or for ill" most of my time will be spent singing with an ensemble, I have become interested in learning how to do that well and, most recently, learning how to do that well with higher level singers in a higher level choir.
To that end, after having experienced the Mozart's Requiem with orchestra in a beautiful performing space this past summer, singing alongside many experienced and professional level choral singers, I am expanding my singing realm by exploring the choral world. I have invested in a couple of books about choir: The Robert Shaw Reader -- which I am currently reading and finding quite fascinating -- and, waiting on the shelf, is Shirlee Emmons' Prescriptions for Choral Excellence
. A new book I've spotted that is coming out will go on my wish list: The Solo Singer in the Choral Setting: A Handbook for Achieving Vocal Health
.
I have noticed that a lot of singers who have music degrees have experienced a choir education in an academic setting along the way. "Oh, I sang that when I was in college." This higher level choral experience has been kind of a gap in my musical education,. As a kind of self-schooled -- home-schooled, if you will -- musician, I have to get everything piecemeal and makeshift and I don't always know what piece of the puzzle to add next.
As much as I love solo singing, and that is my passion and first drive, reflecting over my experiences has caused me to realize that I've been conditioned to be a choral singer for most of my life.
I still remember the first moments I became enchanted by the idea that two voices could blend in harmony -- that one person could sing different tones that blended with the melody of another and add depth and complexity to the music. It happened when I was in church as a little girl, sitting beside my mother. As the congregation sang, my mother always made up a harmony, and I always thought it was so cool and sounded so nice and I wondered how she did it.
Next, I experienced harmonic singing at girl scout camp around a campfire. The counselors would teach us different parts and the music we were all able to make together was very beautiful and satisfying.
When I came home form girl scout camp, I didn't want that singing magic to end, so I would teach my three sisters all the parts and we formed our own little choir in the home. We had hours of fun on car trips harmonizing like this together.
Singing in church choirs, singing in school, being selected to go to inter-school choral events, high school choir, all county and all state choir, and finally the choir award at graduation time.
Why didn't I see it all before? That I am a choir singer! It is part of my true singer-identity (and destiny?) I love harmonizing with others. I love music that was written for different vocal parts. It sprouted up naturally and organically and it was there all along and I hardly recognized it. It is good for an avocational singer to love singing with a choir!
"Since for good or for ill, most of my singing will be in a choir."
This could be the refrain of the avocational singer.
Most of my thrust in trying to master my singing voice has been with the idea of solo singing in mind. But more of my singing and performing time is spent singing with others in my women's choir, and now a second choir which I have just joined.
So, paralleling my work on my solo voice, has always been a gradually growing appreciation of the skills that are necessary to sing with an ensemble. Since "for good or for ill" most of my time will be spent singing with an ensemble, I have become interested in learning how to do that well and, most recently, learning how to do that well with higher level singers in a higher level choir.
To that end, after having experienced the Mozart's Requiem with orchestra in a beautiful performing space this past summer, singing alongside many experienced and professional level choral singers, I am expanding my singing realm by exploring the choral world. I have invested in a couple of books about choir: The Robert Shaw Reader
-- which I am currently reading and finding quite fascinating -- and, waiting on the shelf, is Shirlee Emmons' Prescriptions for Choral Excellence. A new book I've spotted that is coming out will go on my wish list: The Solo Singer in the Choral Setting: A Handbook for Achieving Vocal Health.I have noticed that a lot of singers who have music degrees have experienced a choir education in an academic setting along the way. "Oh, I sang that when I was in college." This higher level choral experience has been kind of a gap in my musical education,. As a kind of self-schooled -- home-schooled, if you will -- musician, I have to get everything piecemeal and makeshift and I don't always know what piece of the puzzle to add next.
As much as I love solo singing, and that is my passion and first drive, reflecting over my experiences has caused me to realize that I've been conditioned to be a choral singer for most of my life.
I still remember the first moments I became enchanted by the idea that two voices could blend in harmony -- that one person could sing different tones that blended with the melody of another and add depth and complexity to the music. It happened when I was in church as a little girl, sitting beside my mother. As the congregation sang, my mother always made up a harmony, and I always thought it was so cool and sounded so nice and I wondered how she did it.
Next, I experienced harmonic singing at girl scout camp around a campfire. The counselors would teach us different parts and the music we were all able to make together was very beautiful and satisfying.
When I came home form girl scout camp, I didn't want that singing magic to end, so I would teach my three sisters all the parts and we formed our own little choir in the home. We had hours of fun on car trips harmonizing like this together.
Singing in church choirs, singing in school, being selected to go to inter-school choral events, high school choir, all county and all state choir, and finally the choir award at graduation time.
Why didn't I see it all before? That I am a choir singer! It is part of my true singer-identity (and destiny?) I love harmonizing with others. I love music that was written for different vocal parts. It sprouted up naturally and organically and it was there all along and I hardly recognized it. It is good for an avocational singer to love singing with a choir!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Auditioned for a New Choir and Got In
I broke out of my comfort zone this week and finally took the step to audition for a second choir in our area. The audition went very well and I have been accepted in to the new choir. I have been wanting to do more singing for a while, and have been looking for a new challenge and this provides just what I need for the time being.
I have to thank The Choir Girl blogger for giving me the nudge I needed to make the move. I've been reading about how she challenged herself to up-the-ante of her own choir experience, and I was inspired to make the contact and get myself to the audition partly because of seeing how happy she was at being successful. She also gave me a few words of encouragement in response to some comments I made on her blog post.
I arrived at the conductor's home a bit nervous, but had brought along Schubert's An die Musick, which I felt was now in good enough shape to use. I brought it in two keys, but ended up singing it in the higher key.
The song went really well, but during the little vocalizing we did beforehand to test my range, my middle voice was acting a bit funky, and it fell apart a little bit at the seams. The conductor was very knowledgeable about voice and knew what was happening and we were able to discuss the issue intelligently. Sometimes when I'm not warmed up enough, or when I'm nervous, or when I've skipped a few too many days practice, my voice will revert to the old imbalances. It doesn't take long to get it back together again, but I had trouble with it while I was in there. It's natural to feel a little disappointed when that happens, but I realize more and more that I just have to deal with whatever situation is present, and whatever difficulties are there and manage the situation with whatever skill and know-how I've managed to accumulate thus far. So, I wasn't really upset. I just dealt with it.
The sight-reading didn't go as well as I would have liked. The piece was deceptively simple-looking, but there were some tricky intervals. She said that I did "okay" on the sight reading. I'll settle for "okay" for now, but I want to improve that. I would love to sight read something someday and have it be a "wow!" That would mean adding a little more sight-reading practice regularly to my regimen.
I'm excited to start in this new choir. After having the experience with The Westminster Choir Festival this summer, I have been eager to be in a place that can stimulate my growth as a choir singer. I have seen that there is so much more. Singing with an ensemble is a skill, and I have learned that there is so much more to it than I had previously been aware.
Some exciting things about my new choir:
All in all I feel this is a very good step I'm taking, but of course it is adding to my roster of commitments and in the coming weeks it will be a challenge to balance the new time commitments with the other aspects of my life. I checked the performance schedule and the concerts for the all-women's choir I belong to do not conflict with the new choir. But it will be tough! I am bound and determined to keep feeding my family well. I will have to manage my energy levels carefully and watch for little wasted pockets of time. I will find out in due time if it's all too much, but for now I'm excited to take on the challenge and am expecting it to enhance my life.
I have to thank The Choir Girl blogger for giving me the nudge I needed to make the move. I've been reading about how she challenged herself to up-the-ante of her own choir experience, and I was inspired to make the contact and get myself to the audition partly because of seeing how happy she was at being successful. She also gave me a few words of encouragement in response to some comments I made on her blog post.
I arrived at the conductor's home a bit nervous, but had brought along Schubert's An die Musick, which I felt was now in good enough shape to use. I brought it in two keys, but ended up singing it in the higher key.
The song went really well, but during the little vocalizing we did beforehand to test my range, my middle voice was acting a bit funky, and it fell apart a little bit at the seams. The conductor was very knowledgeable about voice and knew what was happening and we were able to discuss the issue intelligently. Sometimes when I'm not warmed up enough, or when I'm nervous, or when I've skipped a few too many days practice, my voice will revert to the old imbalances. It doesn't take long to get it back together again, but I had trouble with it while I was in there. It's natural to feel a little disappointed when that happens, but I realize more and more that I just have to deal with whatever situation is present, and whatever difficulties are there and manage the situation with whatever skill and know-how I've managed to accumulate thus far. So, I wasn't really upset. I just dealt with it.
The sight-reading didn't go as well as I would have liked. The piece was deceptively simple-looking, but there were some tricky intervals. She said that I did "okay" on the sight reading. I'll settle for "okay" for now, but I want to improve that. I would love to sight read something someday and have it be a "wow!" That would mean adding a little more sight-reading practice regularly to my regimen.
I'm excited to start in this new choir. After having the experience with The Westminster Choir Festival this summer, I have been eager to be in a place that can stimulate my growth as a choir singer. I have seen that there is so much more. Singing with an ensemble is a skill, and I have learned that there is so much more to it than I had previously been aware.
Some exciting things about my new choir:
- There will be composers coming to work their own compositions with the choir
- There are in-reach programs that help the singers to improve their musical skills (such as site-singing workshops that I may just avail myself of)
- There are many solo opportunities and there is a specific goal to help singers this way. The director of the choir specifically mentioned this while we were together.
- The programs and music are wide and varied. Many cultures are explored and there is even an exciting Video Game concert.
- There will be professional and higher level singers in the choir and it's always good, like I found out this summer at the festival, to be rubbing elbows (and resonances) with more advanced singers. That's always good for learning and growing.
- The choir attracts "big" voices, and free, healthy singing is encouraged (no need to regularly squeeze my voice into the little choir boy box, except for a special effect or ornamental purposes).
- The conductor is an excellent singer herself and really seems to know about voice. In fact, I spotted my favorite vocal book on her bookshelf behind her as she sat at the piano Discover Your Voice
, by Oren Brown.
All in all I feel this is a very good step I'm taking, but of course it is adding to my roster of commitments and in the coming weeks it will be a challenge to balance the new time commitments with the other aspects of my life. I checked the performance schedule and the concerts for the all-women's choir I belong to do not conflict with the new choir. But it will be tough! I am bound and determined to keep feeding my family well. I will have to manage my energy levels carefully and watch for little wasted pockets of time. I will find out in due time if it's all too much, but for now I'm excited to take on the challenge and am expecting it to enhance my life.
Monday, September 6, 2010
New-to-Me Information on Breathing -- Active and Passive Inhalers and Exhalers
Everybody here knows that I am far from being an expert and that I like to share my explorations and discoveries with readers of this blog. I don't really understand breathing for singers in general, but from having striven to find my own answers for my own body, I've observed many things about my own breathing and made certain choices, while singing, that work for me. I'm not sure that I've "arrived" at a breathing solution yet. I think the development of breathing itself is part of the progression of using better and better breathing technique as one goes along. I believe that singer-breathing is an ongoing living component of singing that will change with time and growth, just like the other aspects of voice. I don't think the breathing is some kind of set technique that you put in place and just leave there. It is flowing, flexible, open to growth and freedom and increasing strength and efficiency. I have also slowly come to believe that due to the variables in individual physiology, there may be more than one answer for singers about breathing.
Well, in the course of my ever and on-going quest to understand and grow, I was doing a little research (for a possible future blog post) on how high heels and their effect on posture might impact a singer's breathing technique. As so often happens when one is out there googling away, I found many interesting sites to get sidetracked on.
One site I discovered led me to some new information about breathing that may be of interest to singers. It was on the web site of recorder-maker, Adriana Breukink. She had an article that described different kinds of recorder players and how they breathed, "Inhalers and Exhalers." The "inhaler" recorder players were active and energetic in drawing the breath in, and passive in exhaling the breath. The air flowed freely through the recorder. The "exhaler" recorder players allowed the breath to fall in passively -- or kind of renew itself automatically, I guess -- and energetically blew through recorders with active and engaged exhalation. She says that these two breathing types may necessitate different recorder designs.
There is a link from that page to a German page on "Terlusollogie ®" The page was in German, so I had to use google translator to get me an English version to read. This page is about the observations that there are different breathing "types" constitutionally, and it seems to claim that these types are imprinted at birth.
There is a little test on the page to determine whether one is an "Inhaler" or "Exhaler."
I did not take the test -- later for fun, maybe -- because just from my observations over the years, while running and while trying to sing, and while just observing my breath and doing yoga breathing exercises, I think I am an active inhaler. This is why I have noisy breathing sometimes, I think.
The Terlusollogie web site mentions this being something imprinted at birth, but up to this point I had explained my breathing pattern to being overweight. I had conjectured that it took more energy to take a breath in because it was being weighed down by a layer of fat, but that the same layer of fat had caused me to exhale passively because all I had to do was relax and the weight would apply the pressure for the air to leave the body. Right or wrong, I have focused a lot of my breath management work on learning to use muscles in exhaling in order to better control the outflow.
I have observed this pattern as a runner too. In my early days of being a runner -- and those were days when I was a "normal" weight -- I had trouble breathing. I would gasp for air and have a lot of fear that I wasn't going to get more air in soon enough. I would immediately collapse after having taken a breath, and the air would whoosh out quickly as I just allowed the forces to expel it, and then I would inhale vigorously to get more oxygen in there quickly. I have spent many years trying to work on rhythmic controlled breathing while running. This may be related in some way to my breathing style, or it may have some contribution to the formation of my breathing style. Hard to tell which comes first, the chicken or the egg.
There is probably something valid about going "against" type to learn more about one's body and breathing, but in the end, my hunch is that the more natural one to one's self is going to be the winner for free and beautiful singing.
I find this information very interesting. I think the application it has for singing is that it opens the mind for the singer to consider that there is a constitutional variable in the strategies one will adopt for breath management while singing. This can have consequences in many ways. If one is working with a teacher who believes strongly in breathing a certain way, that teacher's method may work with people who are wired to use breath that way, but confusing for people with a different breathing type. I think there is the potential for a singer, unaware of these possibilities, to spend many years trying to force her breathing into one prototype, and cause a lot of frustration and tension because she may be working against her natural structure.
Amongst many other things I started wondering about -- taking this inhaler/exhaler-types theory in mind -- I began to wonder if different voice types might be like the different recorder designs she mentioned and if the breathing type matched the instrument in some cases. For example, do dramatic voices require a more active exhale? Or, should knowing that you are naturally a passive exhaler necessitate your doing specific exercises to strengthen and coordinate the muscles for more active exhalation? Or vice versa?
In the end, this information fits with a holistic view I am forming of my life, including my singing voice. As I've mentioned here, I have become very interested in barefoot running. The philosophy of letting my bare feet tell my what my running form should be has been crossing over into my singing. Just as I "listen" to what the nerve endings in my feet, and any pain or discomfort I have while running barefoot, is telling me about how to set my feet down and lift them as I run, so too there are things my body is telling me about how to sing that I want to listen to more carefully.
For many years my singing training has been from the "outside-in." Trying to apply what teachers describe to my body. But from barefoot running -- not discounting the valuable input from knowledgeable people with experience and insight -- I am learning to listen to what my body is saying. The natural way I am inclined to breathe is one thing I might want to listen to as I further hone and master the abilities of my instrument.
Well, in the course of my ever and on-going quest to understand and grow, I was doing a little research (for a possible future blog post) on how high heels and their effect on posture might impact a singer's breathing technique. As so often happens when one is out there googling away, I found many interesting sites to get sidetracked on.
One site I discovered led me to some new information about breathing that may be of interest to singers. It was on the web site of recorder-maker, Adriana Breukink. She had an article that described different kinds of recorder players and how they breathed, "Inhalers and Exhalers." The "inhaler" recorder players were active and energetic in drawing the breath in, and passive in exhaling the breath. The air flowed freely through the recorder. The "exhaler" recorder players allowed the breath to fall in passively -- or kind of renew itself automatically, I guess -- and energetically blew through recorders with active and engaged exhalation. She says that these two breathing types may necessitate different recorder designs.
There is a link from that page to a German page on "Terlusollogie ®" The page was in German, so I had to use google translator to get me an English version to read. This page is about the observations that there are different breathing "types" constitutionally, and it seems to claim that these types are imprinted at birth.
There is a little test on the page to determine whether one is an "Inhaler" or "Exhaler."
I did not take the test -- later for fun, maybe -- because just from my observations over the years, while running and while trying to sing, and while just observing my breath and doing yoga breathing exercises, I think I am an active inhaler. This is why I have noisy breathing sometimes, I think.
The Terlusollogie web site mentions this being something imprinted at birth, but up to this point I had explained my breathing pattern to being overweight. I had conjectured that it took more energy to take a breath in because it was being weighed down by a layer of fat, but that the same layer of fat had caused me to exhale passively because all I had to do was relax and the weight would apply the pressure for the air to leave the body. Right or wrong, I have focused a lot of my breath management work on learning to use muscles in exhaling in order to better control the outflow.
I have observed this pattern as a runner too. In my early days of being a runner -- and those were days when I was a "normal" weight -- I had trouble breathing. I would gasp for air and have a lot of fear that I wasn't going to get more air in soon enough. I would immediately collapse after having taken a breath, and the air would whoosh out quickly as I just allowed the forces to expel it, and then I would inhale vigorously to get more oxygen in there quickly. I have spent many years trying to work on rhythmic controlled breathing while running. This may be related in some way to my breathing style, or it may have some contribution to the formation of my breathing style. Hard to tell which comes first, the chicken or the egg.
There is probably something valid about going "against" type to learn more about one's body and breathing, but in the end, my hunch is that the more natural one to one's self is going to be the winner for free and beautiful singing.
I find this information very interesting. I think the application it has for singing is that it opens the mind for the singer to consider that there is a constitutional variable in the strategies one will adopt for breath management while singing. This can have consequences in many ways. If one is working with a teacher who believes strongly in breathing a certain way, that teacher's method may work with people who are wired to use breath that way, but confusing for people with a different breathing type. I think there is the potential for a singer, unaware of these possibilities, to spend many years trying to force her breathing into one prototype, and cause a lot of frustration and tension because she may be working against her natural structure.
Amongst many other things I started wondering about -- taking this inhaler/exhaler-types theory in mind -- I began to wonder if different voice types might be like the different recorder designs she mentioned and if the breathing type matched the instrument in some cases. For example, do dramatic voices require a more active exhale? Or, should knowing that you are naturally a passive exhaler necessitate your doing specific exercises to strengthen and coordinate the muscles for more active exhalation? Or vice versa?
In the end, this information fits with a holistic view I am forming of my life, including my singing voice. As I've mentioned here, I have become very interested in barefoot running. The philosophy of letting my bare feet tell my what my running form should be has been crossing over into my singing. Just as I "listen" to what the nerve endings in my feet, and any pain or discomfort I have while running barefoot, is telling me about how to set my feet down and lift them as I run, so too there are things my body is telling me about how to sing that I want to listen to more carefully.
For many years my singing training has been from the "outside-in." Trying to apply what teachers describe to my body. But from barefoot running -- not discounting the valuable input from knowledgeable people with experience and insight -- I am learning to listen to what my body is saying. The natural way I am inclined to breathe is one thing I might want to listen to as I further hone and master the abilities of my instrument.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Something New -- Singing Music on my Blog -- "An die musick" by Schubert
Many of you Avocational Singer blog readers have gone for visits to Frescamari's Practice Room to sit and listen in on all my experimentations and voice discovery missions. I first invited everyone to come over to that virtual practice room in this post, where I compared visiting my practice room to visiting a painter's studio.
I chose the Posterous site for my virtual practice room because it was a convenient way to store mp3 files for free and it was simple to get the files posted, by merely e-mailing the files. Posterous would automatically embed the files in a player, so the work was done for me. I will continue to devote time and attention to the ramblings and scribblings and trial and error of that Internet practice room. It serves as a kind of online practice journal for me and I have benefited greatly from posting my practice mp3 files there and commenting on them. From the looks of the numbers (thousands) of visits, it seems that people enjoy browsing through some of the stuff I've got up there.
However, I have wanted to be able to post a file once in a while on this blog. I just needed some time to do some research and tinker around and figure out how to embed a player. I have created a little test blog to play around with this technical stuff and have been busy experimenting over there.
I think I have figured out how to neatly and easily embed a little player so that I can, once in a while, put up an mp3 file right on the blog, so you will not have to take the little cyber-journey over to the practice studio. This would have been great to do when I was pursuing the 24 Arias in 24 Weeks project (which I have not abandoned entirely yet -- I'm just splitting the sessions up -- having completed 10 of them in 10 weeks last winter. I think I may start another 10-week session this Fall. If you are a new reader and don't know what I'm talking about, 10 of 24 Italian Arias I learned in 10 weeks are posted in Frescamari's Performance Space, another posterous blog.)
So, to test out my new mp3-player-embedding abilities, below I have embedded this morning's rendition of "An die musick," by Franz Schubert. To help me learn this song, I purchased a book Music Minus One High Voice Soprano, Vol. 1 Schubert German Lieder (Book & CD)
, and have used the CD that came with it for accompaniment. I have done most of the work on this song by myself, since I am between teachers right now.
Some other work I did on this song leading up to what I've got today can be found in Frescamari's Practice Room.
So, here it is, my progress thus far on "An die musick" in an embedded player right on the blog:
I chose the Posterous site for my virtual practice room because it was a convenient way to store mp3 files for free and it was simple to get the files posted, by merely e-mailing the files. Posterous would automatically embed the files in a player, so the work was done for me. I will continue to devote time and attention to the ramblings and scribblings and trial and error of that Internet practice room. It serves as a kind of online practice journal for me and I have benefited greatly from posting my practice mp3 files there and commenting on them. From the looks of the numbers (thousands) of visits, it seems that people enjoy browsing through some of the stuff I've got up there.
However, I have wanted to be able to post a file once in a while on this blog. I just needed some time to do some research and tinker around and figure out how to embed a player. I have created a little test blog to play around with this technical stuff and have been busy experimenting over there.
I think I have figured out how to neatly and easily embed a little player so that I can, once in a while, put up an mp3 file right on the blog, so you will not have to take the little cyber-journey over to the practice studio. This would have been great to do when I was pursuing the 24 Arias in 24 Weeks project (which I have not abandoned entirely yet -- I'm just splitting the sessions up -- having completed 10 of them in 10 weeks last winter. I think I may start another 10-week session this Fall. If you are a new reader and don't know what I'm talking about, 10 of 24 Italian Arias I learned in 10 weeks are posted in Frescamari's Performance Space, another posterous blog.)
So, to test out my new mp3-player-embedding abilities, below I have embedded this morning's rendition of "An die musick," by Franz Schubert. To help me learn this song, I purchased a book Music Minus One High Voice Soprano, Vol. 1 Schubert German Lieder (Book & CD)
, and have used the CD that came with it for accompaniment. I have done most of the work on this song by myself, since I am between teachers right now.Some other work I did on this song leading up to what I've got today can be found in Frescamari's Practice Room.
So, here it is, my progress thus far on "An die musick" in an embedded player right on the blog:
Monday, August 23, 2010
Classical Vocal Repertoire and a Book of Glinka Songs
I interrupt my regular blog posting to bring you a spontaneous post. I know I just wrote a post about parental musical influences and I do hope you all get to read and enjoy that post, but I am just feeling so good about a music book that arrived in the mail today and I wanted to share the experience with you.
Remember a few posts ago, when I told you that the organist from my church, who is Russian, wanted to do a recital with me? Well, in that post, I mentioned that he loved the Russian composer Mikhail Glinka, and he encouraged me to explore this composer. He said he would help me with the Russian language.
Well, why not?
Well, here's why not. Isn't singing in Russian kind of advanced? Isn't singing in Russian something you do after you've established your international opera career and have a recital schedule around the world and a recording contract? Isn't singing in Russian something you do for your thesis project in graduate music school? Does a little struggling avocational singer such as myself ever sing in Russian?
To make a long story short, I figured Russian was way off my radar, considering the fact that I don't know any other languages except Spanish yet, and I just figured that it would be years and years and years before I got to Russian, and being that I'm older and all, I just figured maybe Russian might be for another lifetime or something. That's the way I perceived it, at any rate. We all know how faulty our perceptions can be, however. But, in a similar way as to how we have to give our voices freedom, and not constrict them or try to mold and shape them to what we want them to be, we also have to give our repertoire development and education freedom to develop and grow the way it wants to. If a pianist comes into my life who would like to collaborate on some music and can school me on Russian stuff, I'm not going to say I'm not ready for that. It's an opportunity and it's the way the larger musical forces of the universe are kind of guiding me to a new area of exploration, enrichment and study.
So, I set about to get my hands on some Glinka music. I didn't have great luck finding a collection of Glinka songs from my usual Internet sources, so getting some was either going to involve getting myself to a good music store or library -- like the Juilliard store or the New York Public Library for Performing Arts -- or, as I wrote about in that same blog post -- challenge myself by doing something I'd wanted to do for a long time -- calling Glendower Jones, owner of Classical Vocal Repertoire.
I have to admit that I have a fear of calling people on the telephone. They even have a psychological term for people afraid to make phone calls -- "Call Reluctance." It's usually connected with a career in sales, but it revolves around being afraid of self-promotion. I've written on this blog before about how I didn't continue to pursue a career in theater because of this distaste for self-promotion. One time I even bought a book to try to help me get over my fear, back when I had a little scrapbooking hobby business. I can't find the book I had back then but it was something along the lines of I'd Rather Have a Root Canal Than do Cold Calling!
Anyway, you'd think that if you were not a professional singer, you would not have to do any cold calling or self-promotion, and that one of the perks of being an Avocational Singer is that you'd have an easy life, right?
Wrong!!
Avocational Singers have to do scary icky things too if they want to grow and be all that they can be.
So, after exhausting many possibilities, it seemed that the musical forces that be were setting me up to make that scary phone call to Glendower Jones. Now, people who have phone fear are afraid of rejection. It doesn't matter what kind of rejection. Just rejection in general. Rationality does not come into play. If it did, it would not be scary, because our intellect would tell us that the worse thing that could happen when we call the music book store would be "No, I'm sorry, we don't have any Glinka."
Actually, no, for the person with these kind of fears, the worst thing that could happen would be for them to say, "NO! We don't have any Glinka, and never never never bother me again!!!" in a really mean scary voice.
Okay, well, back to the task. So, my task, if I really wanted to proceed on, was to make this phone call.
And I bet you all know what happened. Glendower Jones was one of the kindest and most wonderful of professional people to call on the phone. He was extremely knowledgeable and helpful, just as I'd heard from all kinds of singers that he was.
He had a complete volume of Glinka songs, of course, and he took the order and sent it.
Now the real treat is that the book came today and it was a beautiful volume, one that any singer would want to have in his/her collection. Here's a picture:
Remember a few posts ago, when I told you that the organist from my church, who is Russian, wanted to do a recital with me? Well, in that post, I mentioned that he loved the Russian composer Mikhail Glinka, and he encouraged me to explore this composer. He said he would help me with the Russian language.
Well, why not?
Well, here's why not. Isn't singing in Russian kind of advanced? Isn't singing in Russian something you do after you've established your international opera career and have a recital schedule around the world and a recording contract? Isn't singing in Russian something you do for your thesis project in graduate music school? Does a little struggling avocational singer such as myself ever sing in Russian?
To make a long story short, I figured Russian was way off my radar, considering the fact that I don't know any other languages except Spanish yet, and I just figured that it would be years and years and years before I got to Russian, and being that I'm older and all, I just figured maybe Russian might be for another lifetime or something. That's the way I perceived it, at any rate. We all know how faulty our perceptions can be, however. But, in a similar way as to how we have to give our voices freedom, and not constrict them or try to mold and shape them to what we want them to be, we also have to give our repertoire development and education freedom to develop and grow the way it wants to. If a pianist comes into my life who would like to collaborate on some music and can school me on Russian stuff, I'm not going to say I'm not ready for that. It's an opportunity and it's the way the larger musical forces of the universe are kind of guiding me to a new area of exploration, enrichment and study.
So, I set about to get my hands on some Glinka music. I didn't have great luck finding a collection of Glinka songs from my usual Internet sources, so getting some was either going to involve getting myself to a good music store or library -- like the Juilliard store or the New York Public Library for Performing Arts -- or, as I wrote about in that same blog post -- challenge myself by doing something I'd wanted to do for a long time -- calling Glendower Jones, owner of Classical Vocal Repertoire.
I have to admit that I have a fear of calling people on the telephone. They even have a psychological term for people afraid to make phone calls -- "Call Reluctance." It's usually connected with a career in sales, but it revolves around being afraid of self-promotion. I've written on this blog before about how I didn't continue to pursue a career in theater because of this distaste for self-promotion. One time I even bought a book to try to help me get over my fear, back when I had a little scrapbooking hobby business. I can't find the book I had back then but it was something along the lines of I'd Rather Have a Root Canal Than do Cold Calling!
Anyway, you'd think that if you were not a professional singer, you would not have to do any cold calling or self-promotion, and that one of the perks of being an Avocational Singer is that you'd have an easy life, right?
Wrong!!
Avocational Singers have to do scary icky things too if they want to grow and be all that they can be.
So, after exhausting many possibilities, it seemed that the musical forces that be were setting me up to make that scary phone call to Glendower Jones. Now, people who have phone fear are afraid of rejection. It doesn't matter what kind of rejection. Just rejection in general. Rationality does not come into play. If it did, it would not be scary, because our intellect would tell us that the worse thing that could happen when we call the music book store would be "No, I'm sorry, we don't have any Glinka."
Actually, no, for the person with these kind of fears, the worst thing that could happen would be for them to say, "NO! We don't have any Glinka, and never never never bother me again!!!" in a really mean scary voice.
Okay, well, back to the task. So, my task, if I really wanted to proceed on, was to make this phone call.
And I bet you all know what happened. Glendower Jones was one of the kindest and most wonderful of professional people to call on the phone. He was extremely knowledgeable and helpful, just as I'd heard from all kinds of singers that he was.
He had a complete volume of Glinka songs, of course, and he took the order and sent it.
Now the real treat is that the book came today and it was a beautiful volume, one that any singer would want to have in his/her collection. Here's a picture:
The hardcover book felt soft and smooth to the touch. It came protected by a sturdy cardboard enclosure, and the invoice was printed on a cream-colored paper that was heavy and smooth.
Since our phone conversation had gone so well, I was brave enough to mention an Argentinian composer, whose songs I had searched for and been unable to find. Mr. Jones, as a response to that conversation, had enclosed with my order a sheet, on the same creamy paper, a list of available titles from that composer.
I ended up really liking doing business "the old fashioned way," without the impersonal filling in of Internet forms.
I was delighted by the entire experience, and feel that by pushing past my fear, I reaped a great benefit of now having a great source from which to purchase my music.
In the end, I've realized that having a passion for something forces me to grow. When you really have an interest and you really love something, scary obstacles might delay you temporarily, but the desire to explore, find out and see eventually wins out overcomes the fear. One gets to the point where in order to continue on, you have to face the scary monster and it is that desire to see it through that helps you take the growth step.
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