What is YOUR Song?

Earlier this week, a friend posted this on Facebook, and I reposted it. What Kurt Vonegut says in this picture, captures almost everything I feel about the arts. Except for the fact that I am making a living through them. Or trying to. And we need people who do, we need people who excel in the arts, or we would lose something essential in our lives.
Later this week, another friend posted this:

"When a woman of the Ubuntu African tribe knows she is pregnant, she goes to the jungle with other women, and together they pray and meditate until you get to "The song of the child." When a child is born, the community gets together and they sing the child's song. When the child begins his education, people get together and he sings his song. When they become an adult, they get together again and sing it. When it comes to your wedding, the person hears his song. Finally, when their soul is going from this world, family and friends are approaching and, like his birth, sing their song to accompany it in the "journey".

"In the Ubuntu tribe, there is another occasion when men sing the song. If at some point the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, they take him to the center of town and the people of the community form a circle around her. Then they sing "your song." The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment, but is the love and memory of his true identity. When we recognize our own song, we have no desire or need to hurt anyone.

"Your friends know "your song". And sing when you forget it. Those who love you can not be fooled by mistakes you have committed, or dark images you show to others. They remember your beauty as you feel ugly, your total when you're broke, your innocence when you feel guilty and your purpose when you're confused." Tolba Phanem, African poet

Reading this, I got to thinking (always a dangerous thing, I know). What is MY song? Bill and I have a song - Happy Together. People usually think of the Turtles version, and while I do really love that one, this is our favorite. (Although I do kind of miss the "How is the weather?" lyric in the Turtles version) 


But, that is OUR song. What's MY song? What song could bring me back to myself if I needed the reminder? Think about it. 
In an episode of Ally McBeal (for those of you who might remember the series), her therapist told her to find a song. And when she was feeling stressed or afraid, she should hear that song, and it would bring her back to herself. I've tried and looked and I cannot remember what her song was, but I do remember her walking down the street, with her song playing in the background, and all the strange looks she got dancing down the street to HER song.

When I was a teenager, I had a song. When I was hurt, or scared, upset at how the world was treating me, it made me feel better, and centered. Perhaps not the most positive song out there, but it worked for me.  Simon & Garfunkel's I Am a Rock.(Looking at them, all I can think, beyond how talented they are and how well they sing together, is that they would never have had a career today. They look too odd. Not the typical boy-band that we've sadly come to expect.) But, back to my topic. Is this MY song now? NO. It worked for the teenaged me. But not now.


Then, for a time there was Barry Manilow's All the Time. But that was for Melissa, and later Bill. It was about my relationships with each of my dearest friends. (I even married one of them!) Would this song call me back to myself if I got lost? No, not really. It brings me back to a time when I felt very alone, and as the lyrics say: "All the time I thought that I was wrong. Wanting to be me but needing to belong. If I'd've just believed in all I had, If someone would have said 'You're not so bad'." That was just barely post I Am a Rock.


For a time, I really called on Carly Simon's I haven't Got Time for the Pain, but that was mostly for the lyrics of the chorus: "Now I haven't got time for the pain, I haven't got room for the pain, I haven't the need of the pain." But the rest of the song didn't really fit what I needed the chorus for. Still not MY song.

Maybe if I look into the world of opera. I love opera. Hmm. . . Vissi d'arte. (Puccini - Tosca) One of my all-time favorite arias. Here's Renata Tebaldi singing it. Going over the translation, I was thinking that maybe I had a winner. The beginning was going pretty well. But, when the mood of the music changes, it ceases to be what I'm looking for here. (I picked this version, because a translation is offered on-screen.) Most of the rest of the arias that I can think of have to do with leaving your love, dying, killing someone, dying, getting ready to die ~ I'm thinking that opera is sadly not where I'm going to find MY song. 


I love the Beatles. Maybe there? Yellow Submarine? (I posted that video a few blogs ago.) No. My favorite Beatles song? While My Guitar Gently Weeps. No, not even close. 


I googled "songs of affirmation" and got a lot of what Bill calls "whistle-boing-boing" music. New Age-y stuff. Not what I'm looking for. That did net me We Are the Champions by Queen. A great song. And, yes, a very strong, positive affirmation, but not what I'm looking for, either. I'm not really looking for affirmation, I'm looking for a song that defines me. Rules out I am Woman by Helen Reddy, too. When we recognize our own song, we have no desire or need to hurt anyone. This is proving to be harder than I thought.


Maybe a song that I wrote? But, I'm not much of a songwriter. Dad & I once wrote a song. I remember sitting in his lap as we wrote: I should have kept my mouth shut. I shouldn't ought to've told. I should have kept my lip zipped up till I'm a hundred years old. I should have kept my mouth shut, I shouldn't have opened it wide. 'Cause when I opened my mouth up, a fly flew inside. Hey, at 5, that was high art!


But, I'm still no closer to finding MY song. Suggestions? And while you're thinking about it - what's YOUR song?

Popra?

A student sent me this video of Danielle de Niese singing V'adoro, pupille from Handel's Giulio Cesare. Her question dealt with one of the comments: "She's beautiful, but I'm sorry to say her singing is vulgar and inconsistent. She is not an opera singer, but a "popra" singer. No subtlety. Also,the arm-flailing was just horrible. She was like those inflatable-arm flailing advertising things."

Another comment:

"The costume is the biggest issue here. There is no way that anyone could fall in love with a woman wearing this.
Pah!
I saw this brilliant production, one of the most memorable nights I have ever spent in the theatre, and both of the subsequent revivals. I don't think you would find a single audience member of either sex who was not beguiled by Miss de Niese. . . And the crazy Bollywood dancing was part of the magic of this show too.

(The 'crazy Bollywood dancing' has some historical validity:  Rome, Egypt and Greece all traded with India, by the way.)

Now, I've spent the last few hours listening to many, many versions of V'adoro, pupille (sadly, never one of my favorite arias to begin with) and have arrived at a few conclusions.

A friend has said that opera is broken. And I think that this may be part of what he means. Ms de Niese is not a bad singer. Her singing is neither vulgar or inconsistent. What she is, or was when this was recorded was very young. 24 to be exact. An opera singer performing leading roles at 24. Yes, she's lovely and fills the costume very nicely, without overflowing in any direction. Her operatic debut was at the age of 15, in Los Angeles, where I would have thought they knew better.

For contrast; here is Montserrat Caballe singing the same role. (Ignore the fact that the first Cesare is a woman, and the one here is a man - that's a whole 'nother blog.)
Ms Caballe would probably never be cast today. In 1982, she was relatively thin, but even then, would be considered far too fat to have the role today. She also would never have consented to that much movement. The more you move, the harder producing beautiful sounds becomes. Ms de Niese has not only the arm movements to contend with, but she begins singing in a kneeling position, bending and scooping with her arms.

And while it makes for interesting theatre, it doesn't necessarily make for good opera. Yes, opera is about the spectacle, and hopefully, it's also now about good acting, but primarily what makes it "opera" is the singing. And singing at this level takes years to develop.

A concept that is often difficult for students to understand is that their voice is an instrument. And at the age of 15, the instrument is still growing and changing, just as a 15 year old's body is still growing and changing. An acoustic guitar must age before it reaches it richest tones. Why can we not allow the same for young singers?


As a vocal instructor, I am very careful with young voices, not wanting them to develop too much, too quickly. It is so easy to cause damage. While Ms de Niese obviously has a lovely instrument, it needed to grow up some more before it was put to such strain.

Operas were written for older, more trained, seasoned performers. But, in our youth and beauty oriented society, we are putting microphones in the ceilings of theatres so that younger and smaller voices can take on roles that were never meant for them. Opera has become more about how it looks than how it sounds. And for that, opera is broken. 

To me, "popra" has to do with some of the groups that are making opera more approachable and popular: Amici, il Divo. I actually like some of these, although I mentioned il Divo negatively last week, it was for their performance of that particular song. 

But "popra" can also mean this: Luciano Pavarotti was scheduled to sing Nessun dorma at the Grammy's in 1998. He got sick, and had to cancel at the last minute. Aretha Franklin bravely stepped up to the plate. I won't gripe about all the things she did wrong. She was in a very unfortunate position and did what she could. I can only imagine the shock of the orchestra and chorus, however when they found out who they would be backing up! 

But this, also, is part of what is wrong with opera today; the feeling that anyone can do it. I have worked with a singer who primarily does jazz. She reads not a lick of music, and has never had a lesson in her life, and she has told me that she doesn't see why opera singers make such a fuss about training. She can do everything that we do without all the wasted expense. 

And, that, my friends, is popra.

Ornamentation or, the Timeline of a Song

Last week I wrote about Bel Canto. An important part of that style is ornamentation, taking the melodic line written by the composer and embellishing it. In the Baroque period, ornamentation was expected; almost a way of life. In the Da Capo arias you sang through the "A" section, went into the "B" section, and then went da capo (Italian for "to the head"), back to the beginning. Here was the chance for the singer to put their own stamp on the aria. Ornamentation was highly personal and was what set the mediocre talent from a stellar performer.

Then the world changed and musical tastes changed with it. In order to full larger opera houses and be heard over the newly enlarged orchestras, singers began to use more of the chest voice, gaining volume, but losing flexibility.

The Da Capo format fell out of style as new forms for arias came to be used. Composers began to expect the singer to sing the music as written. No variations, no ornamentation.

Bel Canto operas fell out of fashion as well, to be rediscovered in the late 1950s. Here is where I'm going out on a limb. I have no idea if there is any documentation to back up what I'm about to write.

I said last week that I thought the Bel Canto era: 1800-1840, grew out of a reaction to the tumult of the times. If you think about it, beginning in the late 1950s (let's round up) and say 1960-2000, another 40 year span, was also a time of tumult and change. Fashion, art, architecture, politics, music, everything was in flux. And at the beginning of it all came a revival of a classical, more restrained type of opera and the singing to go along with it.

Coincidence? I don't think so. I think that the same fears of losing control that gave us the Bel Canto era brought it back 120 years later.

And - this baroque love of ornamentation has crept into popular music. No longer is the composer's intention sacred. Now every singer, or worse, every singer wannabe, ornaments.

In listening to various songs on Youtube, this blog has changed. I had intended to give you examples from a number of songs, including a duet with Barbara Streisand and Celine Dion. It's quite lovely (if we overlook the amazingly clichéd lyrics), they are both singing what I assume to be the music as written. Then building up to the Barry-Manilow-key-change come in the ornaments. It's here, if you want to hear it: Celine Dion, Barbara Streisand: Tell Him.

Then I was going to play for you Dolly Parton singing I Will Always Love You from 1975. Its a very different song from the Whitney Houston hit. By the way, Dolly wrote it. Here's Dolly, big-hair and all:I will always love you: Dolly Parton  and here's Whitney: Whitney Houston (Whitney's, by the way, is from a performance where the applause seriously interrupts the song, and the ornamentation gets WAY overdone - and yes, I know that a lot of Whitney's ornaments come from gospel music which is very, very far away from the Western influences of Bel Canto, but that's another show.)

But then, I found this: I've always loved the song Without You. All these years, though, I thought Nilsson wrote it. He didn't. Pete Ham and Tom Evans, of the group Badfinger, did. Apparently Paul McCartney has called this "the killer song of all time." I'm not sure I'd go that far, but it is a gorgeous, sometimes gut-wrenching ballad. I wonder if he was referring to their version.

Sometimes ornamentation can be good. Normally, I'm a purist: I like music to be performed the way the composer intended. I'm reminded of the plot of the movie That Thing You Do, where if they had done the song as the composer intended, it would never have been a hit. Because in the hands of Badfinger, this song is really lacking... something. Don't feel you need to go all the way to the end. The song is pretty much over before they hit the 2 minute mark. There's a guitar solo, and then the vocals just repeat. No change, no emotion, nothing. (This song, by the way, does follow the A-B-A format of a Da Capo aria. See, I'm tying this into the opening premise!)


Then along came a man named Harry Nilsson. He took this little ditty and ran with it. The verse is essentially what Ham and Evans wrote. Then he took the first part of the chorus down an octave (just because he could, I guess), and that gave him the jumping off point to take the repeat up where it was originally written. But now, it gives added emotion, sounding like his heart is being ripped out. 

This has become THE version of the song that everyone else works from. (Trust me on this. After literal hours of research this morning, I've heard Heart, Hall & Oates, Air Supply, TG Sheppard, 2 different Spanish versions, an Italian version, a Japanese version, a reggae version, a salsa version, versions with guitar solos, sax solos, and many, many American Idol/X-factor, talentless versions.)

This is where my beef with a lot of popular music comes in. We are never given the opportunity to hear what the melody is before the flourishes start. I know lots of people love Mariah Carey's version. But, I think that the ornamentation overpowers the song. And when you get people with even less talent, training or restraint trying to do her version, the melody gets completely lost in the pyrotechnics (or, what I call the "I-know-there's-a-note-in-there-somewhere syndrome") Here's Mariah, if you must. Her version also gives us a problem with the lyrics - I just can't give anymore. Because they always can.

There used to be a saying: Sometimes less is more. I love watching craft shows on TV, and now the feeling seems to be that more is never enough. There are always more embellishments to put on your handcrafted CD cover/purse/scrapbook page. And it seems, you can always pile more notes onto an otherwise unassuming song. People will go wild. Oh, and throw in a scrunch (crouching down as if the high note is causing you physical pain), and that's guaranteed to make them scream. (Donny Osmond added a scrunch to what was otherwise a pretty good version - based on Nilsson, but with some of Carey's additions.)

We've left the ornamentations of the Baroque period far behind. Is this in reaction to the changing times we live in? I have no idea.

There is a movement for groups that popularize the operatic style. They are trying to make operatic training more approachable and I support that. Amici, Il Divo: there may be others, but those are the one I know, and I like them, for the most part.

But, then I found this version. Someone needs to be punished. They've been very, very bad. Oh, and don't think that you can only listen to a short bit of it. You don't realize just how truly horrendous it is until near the end, when the Barry-Manilow-key-change hits.

Somewhere along the line in the last few years, we've lost melodies. The vocal pyrotechnics have taken over. It's become not enough to sing a beautiful note, now that note has to go up and down several scales. We have become all style and no substance. But, I must agree with all these other singers on one thing. The definitive version of Without You does not belong to Badfinger but to Harry Nilsson. Sometimes less is more, and sometimes it can be just enough.

P.S. This may be one of the only different takes on the song, but even he returns to Nilsson at the end: Bonnie Prince Billy - Babylon System/Without You

Beautiful singing

A few years ago, I was performing with two other people in a school. At the end of our show, we took questions from the kids. One bright 5th grader wanted to know how we could sing so loudly. (We'd been singing in the multi-purpose room, with a fair bit of background noise, and lousy acoustics.) Before either myself or the bass had a chance to say anything, the other woman had launched into this long explanation of Bel Canto, which she was kind enough to tell this child, is Italian: Bel (beautiful) canto (singing). She explained how we all had studied this way and it was the only way to produce such beautiful sounds. . .yada, yada, and yada. I whispered to the other singer, "She shouldn't speak for all of us. I prefer the 'can belto' style." Which made him laugh, and as soon as we could, we took over the explanation, before she could bore the children to death.


Recently, I've been looking at the bel canto style for a student of mine, trying to find words to explain what bel canto singing is and isn't. And I've found out that doing that is a bit more complicated than I'd originally thought.


There are a lot of different schools of vocal thought; ways of teaching voice, ways of creating the sounds that we want. And this can all become amazingly technical, lowering the larynx, whether to use the chest voice at all, whether certain vocal types even exist. It can become mind-boggling.


Silly me, I thought that with a little research, I could come in and write a coherent, possibly entertaining blog on what is and isn't bel canto. After hours of research into many different aspects of the question, I still don't have a better answer than to say that I can tell a bel canto aria simply by listening to it. 



For example: here is Sumi Jo singing Handel's Where'er you walk. Her voice is light, and soft. The focus is very tight (not her throat, but her focus). It's very carefully placed, probably in a very specific spot on the bridge of her nose, and never wavers. The vibrato is slight, and the dynamics are also slight, never too loud. The words are hard to understand. The beauty of the voice, not the text is important. (You don't need to listen to all of each of these. Just enough to hear the differences.)

Next follows Julie Andrews on the same aria. Much easier to understand, but not bel canto. The focus is just wrong; it's too open and diffuse. The words are too clear and crisp. A lovely voice, but wrong for the style.

And finally - Leontyne Price. She's doing a very admirable job of containing her voice, but, her instrument is just wrong for the style. You can hear her over-enunciating the words - she almost scoops into notes in an effort to be understood. The words in this case interfere with the beauty of the tone. And the vibrato is too wide, the focus too far back in her throat, giving her voice a hollow sound that is not bel canto.


If you made it through all three versions, you might have noticed something about this style of aria. It has a form that has come to be called a "da capo" aria. You sing through the first verse, we'll call this "A". Then you sing the middle section, which is always different, we'll call that "B". Then you go back to the beginning -  'da capo' (it's a musical term, meaning to the head, or beginning.) When you return to the top, there are variations that are allowed, even expected. Ornamentations that are supposed to show off the singer's voice. I'm not a big fan of ornamentations, I feel that very often they can distract from the beauty of the melody.


So, I'm still coming back to what is bel canto. Here's what I've got. Many people specifically think of operas written by Rossini, Bellini and Donizetti as bel canto. But it can also refer to a way of singing that emphasizes control and tone over emotion. The dynamics tend to be subtle. The orchestras at the time tended to be smaller, and so the voices didn't need to be as big to carry over the instruments. There is far less use of the chest tones, as they weren't needed for volume. Handel and other Baroque composers lend themselves to the bel canto style.


Here is Cecilia Bartoli singing La voce poco fa from Rossini's Barber of Seville. Bartoli is a mezzo-soprano. Rosina, the female lead, is today usually sung by a coloratura soprano. Rossini, however wrote the role for Geltrude Righetti, a coloratura contralto. (I couldn't find a coloratura contralto, but I found this mezzo.)


What is thought of as the Bel Canto Era, 1800 - 1840, had a lot going on, politically, socially, and artistically: Napoleon; the beginnings of the Industrial Revolution; the term "scientist" was used for the first time in 1833. It must have been an amazing time to been alive. Old forms were dying out and new ones quickly rising to prominence. There had always been advancements, but in this period changes were affecting everyone. Because the war caused shortages, fashions changed drastically to adapt. Technology was becoming a force that could not be stopped. Advances in farming and manufacturing were changing the way the lower classes lived and worked. Countries were appearing and disappearing at an alarming rate.


We have become accustomed to a world in flux. People at the beginning of the 19th century were not. There had been warning signs that change was on the horizon: a couple of notable revolutions, some scientific discoveries. But nothing to prepare them for what was to happen at the turn of the century.


I think that bel canto was a holdout from an older style. Opera was growing and changing. Orchestras were becoming larger, the castrati were being replaced by tenors and women. In order to be heard over the instruments, more chest voice was required in the upper registers. The stories around which operas were being written were becoming grittier, more realistic. Bel canto reminded everyone of a world that was known, predictable and safe.


Bel canto was largely forgotten except for a few of the operas: the best known is the Barber of Seville (which was notably performed both by Bugs Bunny and Woody Woodpecker - but their versions were also not in the bel canto style, so I won't include them here). 


In the 1960s, another era of vast change, bel canto was revived, with more and more of the operas being produced. Perhaps, this too, was a longing for safe and  secure. A world that no longer existed, and probably never really had. Stories are absurd, words are unrecognizable, but none of that matters. What matters is the beauty of the human voice. Controlled and glorious in its perfection. Bel canto.

Stiff neck

For those of you who may not know; I was cruelly and viciously attacked by our porch swing last week. It has never acted out before, and always been peaceable and friendly. We are now watching it closely for further signs of aggression, but it will be quite a while before I am willing to trust its seeming compliant attitude.


OK, what really happened, I sat on it, a chain broke, and it threw me over the back, landing on my head, neck and shoulder in a weird side/back tumble. 


It's been a week, and I'm still whimpering and in pain. Feeling sorry for myself, and making life miserable for those around me. But that damned swing really threw me for a loop - quite literally. My body no longer bends in those directions willingly.


But, here's why I'm writing about it. My neck hurts. Moving it is painful. By mid-afternoon, this has translated into pain in my jaw, which makes opening my mouth difficult. So, what have I been doing? I've been trying to really concentrate on support. But, my back hurts too, and standing in the correct position for very long is difficult. The sensible thing would be to take some time off, and let my body recuperate.


Except that I had two performances of Cinderella last week, (just days after the attack), a performance of Hansel & Gretel this week, followed by a recital where I'll be performing Schubert's Der Hirt auf dem Felsen. (Here is Christa Ludwig singing with Gervase de Peyer on clarinet, if you are curious. There isn't any video, so you can listen while you read.) So, taking time off really isn't an option.


Not terribly long ago, I tried to explain to my doctor that when you make your living through singing, a note to your employer really doesn't help anything. I don't think he understood just what it is that I do.


So anyway, what to do? I realized this morning that I'm going about it badly. I've been concentrating on support - the abdominal muscles, thighs, butt cheeks. When what I need to be working on is relaxation of the vocal mechanism. My problem isn't support or breath. It's simply that Second Basic Element - Relaxation of the Vocal Mechanism. I've been fighting that. Trying to force those muscles to relax. Talk about oxymoronic - using force and relax in the same sentence! Every time I try that, I can feel the muscles in my neck respond by getting tighter and tighter. All I can think of is that picture I posted of Diana Ross.  Really focus on her neck. You can see the tension there. That's not good.


Is doing this properly easy? No. I understand that it goes against everything that you think you should be doing. Even after all these years, when my focus is turned away from what I usually do, to something deceptively simple because of a stupid accident and tension and pain. It all comes down to this: if singing hurts, you're doing something wrong. 


I'd like to tell you that this realization has made everything fall into place, and that I'm now singing effortlessly again. I'd be lying. The loose-jawed submissive look is very difficult right now. But, I'm working on it, trying to relax and not not force it. 


I tell my students to work from their strengths, and then stretch into new ground. While the Schubert isn't new ground, its not necessarily my strength. At the moment, the aria from Boito's opera, Mefistofele, L'altra notte is my strength. (Here's Regine Crespin singing L'altra notte) And this can change from time to time. Last year Vissi d'arte from Puccini's Faust was it. This year, not so much. If I start with L'altra notte, and work into Mozart's Alleluia, I'm giving myself a much better chance on everything, even the Witch in Hansel & Gretel.


This post has been all about me and my current struggle. And I've included the music I have because it's important to me, at the moment. If O Danny Boy or Yellow Submarine is your strength, then start there. Start and end each practice session with a strength, whatever that may be. My point, and I do have one, is that all of us struggle with some of the most basic elements of singing from time to time. I have seen terror in the eyes of some highly paid singers as they weren't sure if that high note was going to be where they expected it to be. But, we all keep going, and learning, and sometimes re-learning how to sing. No one person ever knows everything about singing, and studying the art can take a lifetime.


And, finally, just because I can ~ 

Support

Have you ever sung in a choir, and had the director yell at you: "Support that tone!" and wondered what on earth they were going on about? Well, I'm going to try and make it a little less clear. (Yup, that's what I said.)

In earlier posts, I've spoken about the importance of stance and breathing. Support is related to both of these. You're going to have a very difficult time supporting a tone without good posture or breath control, but there is much more to it than that.

This is Sarah Brightman singing Henry Mancini's Moon River. There is SO much wrong with this that I almost don't know where to start. I could mention the stupid crowny-thing in her hair, or ask why her pants are see-through, or even wonder if she's working her abs sitting on the huge ball. But, instead, I'm going to talk about her complete and total lack of focus, breath control and support. 

Let's start with the breath control. She cannot sustain any phrasing at all. I happen to have sheet music for Moon River. (It's from when the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's came out. Cost a whopping $1.25, if you're interested.) She holds out nothing longer than 1 1/2 measures. Nothing. 5 notes is the longest phrase. And these don't make sense in the context of the song. It is simply that she cannot hold out anything longer. She's letting out huge amounts of air with each and every single note. You can hear the air escaping in the breathy quality of her voice. 

Focus. There is none. That can be heard, once again, in the air rushing out, the breathiness to her voice. The tones aren't clear, they are cloudy with all the air. The lack of focus can also be heard in the constant scooping.  She doesn't have the air for longer phrases, and this makes some of the notes a little bit more difficult to reach. To make up for that, she scoops. (Yes, I know. Scooping can be a stylistic thing, but should still be used sparingly. Not every other note! That's just sloppy.)

Support. Its very difficult to support anything sitting on a giant ball with your legs stuck out in front of you like that. (In some cultures, it is considered rude to show people the soles of your feet, even your shoes. Apparently, she's never heard that, as she's showing the soles of her boots to a multitude of people.) When singers think about support, we usually think of just the abdominal muscles. We pooch out the tummy, forcing the diaphragm to flatten. And, viola! support! (On a craft show on PBS, I recently  heard the host pronounce that vie-la. Just for the record - it is vwah-la. Don't complain to me - it's French.) Actually, there is a lot more to it than just the abdominal muscles, although they are vitally important to the process. 

Also involved are, the thigh muscles, inner thigh muscles and the gluteus maximus (Butt cheeks). All of these muscles need to be engaged. What do I mean by this? Check out this video. It's a coach showing how to free throw in basketball. He has a young volunteer demonstrating what he's talking about.

  Throughout this video, you can see the kid getting ready to make the shot. All of his muscles are ready, time and time again, to throw the ball, if only the plump coach would shut up and let him do it! Every muscle in his young body is ready. That's what a singer's muscles should feel like. Engaged, energized and ready for anything. Without that, it's difficult to support the tone properly. (Poor kid, he almost looks like he's performing the 'potty dance')

Another Sarah Brightman example. I found this and went there expecting another train wreck. And I was not disappointed. She has no idea what the lyrics are about. (Glancing at the lyrics, I'm not sure I know, but I'm not the one who chose to sing the song. Here's what Wikipedia had to say on the subject :The author of Procol Harum: beyond the pale, Claes Johansen, suggests that the song "deals in metaphorical form with a male/female relationship which after some negotiation ends in a sexual act." This is supported by Tim de Lisle in Lives of the Great Songs, who remarks that the lyrics concern a drunken seduction, which is described through references to sex as a form of travel, usually nautical, using mythical and literary journeys. And I am NOT going to talk about Chaucer's Miller's Tale!)

 
Pay close attention at 1:21. I'll wait while you make it to that point in the video. Her voice is breathy, unfocused, unsupported. Then when she's ready for the high note, on "was" her knees visibly push straight, and suddenly, her voice has power and clarity! (That's why she likes sheer skirts! Just for these teaching points! How thoughtful.) 

Now, for contrast, here's John Barrowman singing Moon River. (Yes, Cap't Jack Harkness can sing!) He has very good focus. And just listen to those clear tones! And the phrasing is beautiful. Those notes are all supported. (And I think he's better looking than Ms Brightman, too! And no stupid crowny-thing!)


I had planned on giving you Procul Harem singing A Whiter Shade of Pale.  But, they don't sing anywhere near as good as Mr. Barrowman, so if you want to hear them, you'll have to go to Youtube yourself. So there.


Next week?

How many voices do I have?

Each of us has at least 3 separate voices. And I'm not talking about the voices in your head, or the voices that tell you to not have that extra serving of lasagna. I'm talking about singing voices. But even calling them voices can be misleading. Some teachers prefer the term "registers." It all depends on who you talk to and who they studied with, and which side of the bed they got out of this morning. Which all boils down to: "It's complicated."

So what exactly am I talking about? Listen to "What's Up" by "4 Not-Blondes."

 Do you hear how full and rich her voice is   through most of the song? But then, at 1:01,  1:05, 1:15, 1:20 (I'm seeing a pattern) hear what happens. Do you hear how it almost sounds like someone else singing? (I love her hats, they are so cool!)

 She starts out singing in her chest voice. We call it that because it feels like it is resonating in the chest. But then, for just a note or two, it almost sounds like a little girl singing. She's gone into her head voice, so called because it feels like it's resonating in the head. Between the two extremes is the middle voice. It tends to feel like it's in your throat, where you would think that we want the voice to always be, but you'd be wrong. 

Some more examples of the different qualities of the voices:

Jewel yodeling (you don't need to watch more than a few seconds, unless you're a glutton for punishment).  Why am I making you listen to yodeling? Let me refer you to Wikipedia again: Yodeling,yodelling,jodeling) is a form of singing that involves singing an extended note which rapidly and repeatedly changes in pitch from the vocal or chest register(or "chest voice") to the head register; making a high-low-high-low sound. The English wordyodel is derived from a German word jodeln(originally Austro-Bavarian language) meaning "to utter the syllablejo" (pronounced "yo" in English). This vocal technique is used in many cultures throughout the world. (And I am not the only person to not be enthralled with the art form. Sir Walter Scott wrote in his June 4, 1830 journal entry that "Anne wants me to go hear the Tyrolese Minstrels but...I cannot but think their yodeling...is a variation upon the tones of a jackass.

 Cranberries - Zombie:  first at 1:20 on the first syllable of "Fighting" (Gold dress does nothing for her, but I love the chain wig! - it's probably wrong to critique fashion on a really very serious song…)

 This abrupt switch from chest to head voices is what gives yodeling its characteristic sound, it an important part of Celtic music (hence the Cranberries song - plus, my husband loves that one). It's also a part of the music of many other cultures. Since much of my training has been to bridge the expanses of my voice seamlessly, I find the obvious differences in tone annoying. And, since classical Western training endeavors to do that, we will assume that you want to do the same, and not sound like any of these examples.

The chest voice has some admirable qualities. As you can hear in 4 Non-Blondes, it has volume and richness. The head voice has lightness and an almost angelic sound. (Are you tired of videos yet? Hopefully not, because here's one more: the Von Trapp Children singing.  In Carol of the Bells - the first song, everything is sung in lovely, pure head tones. You can hear hints of the breathy quality to their amplified voices. They are light, angelic: it really is lovely. Then, at 1:33, as they are beginning Doe, a deer, (I kid you not - they sing Doe, a deer!) the soloist gives us our first hint of chest voice. She is also the oldest looking of the 4. But it is a lovely young voice, smooth from the bottom all the way to the top. You can hear the richness of her voice, and it sounds far less breathy than the others'.

So, the trick is to keep the richness of the chest, while also keeping the ringing, angelic quality of the head. The first step is often to find all of those voices in you. Just about everyone manages to find their mid-range. Many untrained singers find the chest voice pretty easily. The head range is often the tricky one. (Although many young sopranos are frightened of what they think of as the rough qualities of the chest. Each voice is different. Not good or bad, just different.)

Then it becomes a matter of learning where each and every single note should fall: in your voice and in each and every single song. How much depth to carry up from the chest into the highest notes, and how much of the ringing head tones to carry down into the lowest, deepest notes you are capable of. And this will differ in each song, every day. It can be affected by how much sleep you got the night before, the pollen count, the relative humidity, you name it, it can probably affect your voice. (Does that sound mind-bogglingly difficult? With practice, it becomes so automatic that you don't even think about it.)

There is a diagram that gets used a lot. I call it the hourglass. If we put the head voice at the top of the diagram and the chest voice at the bottom, you have a visual of what we're trying to accomplish. Without this concept, you end up with what is called a break in the voice, when you just cannot carry up anymore weight or carry down anymore of the lightness.

My mother had an analogy that always made sense to me. (Sorry - but it went with a story) When she was a student teacher, they went on a field trip from her school in Louisville, KY, to New York City. (Quite the field trip - right?) She went shopping in Saks 5^th Avenue, and bought everyone back home a gift. Paperweights. About 2 dozen of them. 
(Maybe like this)

After shopping, they all went to the Empire State Building, where they found that the elevators were out of order, and they had to walk up all the stairs: all 1860 of them. It wasn't long before she was wishing she hadn't gotten all those paperweights. She was wishing that she could leave a trail of paperweights on the stairs, kind of like Hansel & Gretel leaving a trail of breadcrumbs, waiting for her to pick up again on her way back down. Sometimes I still think about leaving paperweights behind when I'm trying to lighten up my voice for a particular passage.

Have you gotten the idea that this is not necessarily easy? Good. Can it be fun? Yes! Should you go it alone? No. You can really do some damage to yourself, depending on your age, experience and health. For example: I never do much with the chest when I'm working with kids before they hit puberty. Their voices, just like their bodies, are undergoing so many changes that it's just not a good idea to push either end of the voice (chest or head). Do I teach kids before puberty? Yes. I'm just very careful of what we do. But, this is still just a part of why I liken vocal training to an adventure.

Next week: Support!