Tonedeaf?

Another blog without obvious videos. Background music: The Holly and the Ivy by a group called Medieval Baebes. (I know it's not December - just stay with me and it'll make sense. I hope.)

I get asked a lot if I can help someone who is tonedeaf. My answer is always: "Yes, of course. For the most part it's just a matter of learning new ways of listening." I then like to mention the young man that I had as a student for a summer a few years ago. He was attending Lutheran seminary, and needed to learn how to sing. (Lutherans expect their pastors to sing quite a bit) Unfortunately, he had suffered from rather severe hearing loss as a child. We worked very hard. By the time he headed back to seminary, he knew and could sing all three of the service settings that were in use at the time. He was probably never going to be a particularly good singer, but he could, as they say, carry a tune.


I am aware that there are neurological issues that can cause actual tone deafness, known by the scientific name amusia. But the number of people suffering worldwide from this condition are only between 4 and 5%. That's worldwide. So the chances that you know someone with this condition are somewhat slender. For the few amusic people in the world, I honestly don't know if I or anyone else could help them; but since it is related to other speech and reading disorders like dyslexia, and dyslexic people can learn to read, I suppose it is possible. And I would be willing to help them try.


For the most part, though, when thinking about the supposedly "tone deaf", I always go back to the experience of my friend, Melissa. She is my oldest friend. (Not that she is my oldest friend, but the one I've known the longest!) We met when she was in 1st grade, and I was in 3rd. We were both faculty brats. This is similar to being an army brat, except that our fathers instead of being in the army were members of the Davis & Elkins college faculty. This made us stand out from our other classmates in the local schools in Elkins. I also stood out because I could sing rather well. Melissa stood out for the opposite reason.


Central Elementary school was built when the plans for schools and prisons were pretty much the same. Lots of very high ceilings, looming Hitchcockesque shadows, small windows with bars; it was a dark and scary place, so old that the stairs had grooves in them worn down by generations of students. I remember in 4th grade, we were switching classes, just like the big kids. One class had 63 kids, 52 desks and only 45 books to go around. Social studies. There was not much going on in that class except trying to find a place to sit. But I digress.


One thing that Central School did have, was the best theater in town. Also very old, it was huge, and had two balconies. Every year we had a Christmas assembly where each class got up on the stage and sang one or two Christmas carols. (No one worried about non-Christians. The closest synagogue was an hour and a half away. And we won't even discuss a mosque!) That year, my 3rd grade class got up and sang Up on the Housetops. I remember that the 6th grade class sang The Holly and the Ivy. I'd never heard that one, and I really loved it. (See? There's the reason for the background song!) 


The other thing I remember is that when Melissa's 1st grade class got up from their seats, she stayed in her place in the auditorium. 30-40 other kids got up to march onto that immense stage, and she sat, alone. Think about that for just a moment. Everybody else in her class stood up and went onstage, and she sat there, for all the world (or as much of it as mattered at that moment) to see. She had been told that she sang so badly, they couldn't even trust her to go up and mouth the words. God forbid that she embarrass her teacher by singing off pitch. 


As the years passed, Melissa and I spent many an afternoon playing cards, drinking lots of tea, and singing along with our record collections. She sang off pitch a lot, and I never once told her to mouth the words or sing softer. (Of course, I was singing pretty loudly, myself!) And I noticed something; as we sang more and more, she was singing better and better. More of the notes began to be the correct ones. No real lessons, no real work, just a matter of practice.


Eventually, as a theater major at Dartmouth, Melissa had to take group voice class. She passed! She'll probably never be a great singer, but, she passed that class, and still enjoys singing along with her CD collection. 


The teenage years were hard for me. I found out (years later), that my older brother would leave the house to avoid hearing me practice, because, in his words: I "sucked." I would say that at that point, my ambition had somewhat outstripped my training. 


When I tried to get more training, from someone besides my mother, that person, the sole professor of the college music department, told me that I had no talent and should get out of music. What I had was a big voice that was horribly out of control. (What he had were issues with my father.) Now I know how to deal with that (the vocal problem, not the personal antagonism!) in myself and in my students. 


I have seen vocal ostracism practiced upon others, and been the victim of it myself. It's not fun. It is very hard to separate the instrument from the person. You can criticize a person's piano and they might not take it personally, but criticize a person's voice and you have dissed them in a very personal manner. Hence my contention: no one is helpless. Everyone can learn how to sing. It just takes some work.