Tag Archive for perception

Can you accept changes in your sound?

In my initial lessons with the student, I make it clear that we are going to work on improving their vocal function. I don’t bring aesthetics into the discussion with most students, and it usually never comes up directly. But it often comes up indirectly, especially in adults.

Usually, teens will accept the growth in their voices’ functional capacity and the new sounds that come along with it. They are still maturing and growing in so many ways, and they are used to change. The attitude of openness to change is probably the main reason why young people learn faster in general. My older students who have this openness also make fast progress.

Most adult learners have lived with whatever they have for a long time and are at least somewhat prone to the “The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t” syndrome, whether they realize it or not. They come wanting to sing “better” but rather than being open to what “better” means, they first have to negotiate between what they think it means, and what I say that it means. This is not bad. It’s just something teachers of adults have to understand. A lot of the teaching of adults consists of encouraging them to open up to new ideas.

I’ll refresh my definition of “better” here before going on. A student has made a change for the “better” when they have come closer to this:
“The ability to sing high and low, loud and soft, slow and fast, with maximum ease and good diction and the appropriate sound for the style, results in a voice that is inherently “good”.” I’ll stop putting that word between quotation marks now.

When a student does something better, I have to be very supportive and encouraging, and I tell them why it’s better. I often end the supportive statement with “and it sounds great”. I always support the idea that the better-functioning sound is a good one. This is not a ploy; I really believe it. However, sometimes the singer doesn’t believe it yet. Some singers may never believe it. But the ones who came to change how they sing and how they think about singing will suspend their disbelief and keep working for freer function. They usually come to understand and enjoy the changes as they come.

Some singers with naturally beautiful timbres (even with tortured techniques) want to be able to sound the same, just easier. It often doesn’t work that way, however. Usually new timbres emerge when the ability changes. For some singers, the acceptance of new sounds is the only thing putting brakes on their progress. I have recently taught one very talented singer who is so anxious about altering his beautiful sound that change invokes anxiety. He is still quite resistant to it. Sometimes an enormously talented person goes through a dark night of the soul where they realize that change may represent a redrawing of their picture of themselves as an artist. The investment that they have put in themselves may seem to be at risk. Some of those people will not change, ever.

As a teacher, sometimes a decision needs to be made as to how confrontational to be, if at all. As I get older and whatever-er, I find that getting the student to confront their own resistance is much better than me saying at the third lesson “The problem here is that you’re too attached to your present way of doing things to improve. You’re a mess and you need to have a complete makeover technically.” There are two main things wrong with being a confrontational teacher. 1) It can upset the student unnecessarily and erode the supportive environment of the studio and 2) The teacher may be wrong. No one has a monopoly on the truth (although I have met teachers who have claimed to have THE answer to how the voice works), and any of us can be wrong at various times.

Translating feedback from different sources

There is a director that I occasionally work with who loves to give unsolicited vocal technical advice. She is a dear sweet lady, but when she starts trying to tell me something technical, it drives me up the wall. Tonight I was ready. When she gave a technical note, I told her that I would appreciate it if she would tell me what she is hearing that she does not like so that I can translate it into terms that I work with with my own teacher and coach. She was a little taken aback but I finally got thru to her after she restated her original technical suggestion with yet another technical suggestion, and I answered, “No, you’re still to telling me ‘how’, I need to know what your desired result is”. “More air” is a stock phrase of hers, for example. What the heck am I supposed to do with that? This is an opera, not a birthday cake. I asked “Do you mean you want more sound – louder?” No, that wasn’t it. Finally got her to say what she was after tonally. Phew! Was that so hard?

This director and I have a longstanding relationship, but it is also common to have this happen in a situation where one is being evaluated in a one-time situation, such as an audition, a particular show or music festival, or a masterclass where we may not be able to push the commenter to re-explain something. One of the important skills we need to develop as singers is how to deal with comments about our singing. Sometimes they are strange one-off comments that can be dismissed. However, if several people make similar observations, or one very respected person makes an emphatic point, we should at least consider them seriously. Just because they may not use our lingo does not mean that they can’t be helpful. The question “What are they getting at?” is an important one.

Of course, sometimes the comment makes sense right away, or does it? When I’m attending a master class I often get the impression that the student, wanting to please the teacher quickly, acts like they’re understanding when they do not. Or sometimes the teacher is not able to communicate what they mean clearly. I try to remember that I may sometimes be that student or teacher and that the process of trying to understand what is meant is not always as simple as it seems. There are a number of favorite terms in the voice world that people think they agree on, but I have found that there is actually a lot of variation in their definitions of these terms. Add to that the multiple things we have to think about when we are performing, and it is easy to miss the point of what the (usually helpful) person was trying to say to us at that time.

I think it’s always worth running comments by your team of teacher, coach, and other trusted ears to see what they think was meant. I try to record and recall the exact words used, because I sometimes filter and/or interpret things excessively. I still surprise myself at the degree to which my memory can warp things said to me when I revisit the actual words used.

Sometimes we may want to deliberately get feedback from people who we know will say very different things. This can have great value. It enlarges our capacity to evaluate and use comments from differing sources and helps us to have a multidimensional view of our own goals as an artist. Dealing with comments will always be an inexact science, but it’s a very important skill to our growth.

“It’s never what you think” An acronym is born!

When practicing, I find it helpful to record snippets and play them back sometimes. They so very often remind me of what one of my wise voice teachers, David Christopher, says: “It’s never what you think”. You think you’ve discovered THE WAY TO SING, and it seems to have worked so brilliantly, then you listen and it sounds awful. I was playing a recording of a voice lesson yesterday and it is ever amazing how the sound I was making at the time was better or worse than I thought. Because I am not quite in love with my own voice except on rare occasions, I am one of those who believes he needs to sing by feel, rather than by sound. For me, most of the sounds in my head are not very pretty, even when I am making pretty sounds! So I need to know when to stop recording/listening back and just continue to cultivate the feel, and trust my ears for non-aesthetic uses, such as whether a sound is louder or softer, or whether my vowel seems clear.

One manifestation of “It’s never what you think” is intonation as it relates to resonance. When I am in my droopy place, I can sing [i][e][a] on (what I believe is) a single pitch and then play it back and plainly hear it drop, both in pitch and in resonance. Then I can repeat that sequence from my “happy vowel place” and it’s all in tune. They both seemed to be in tune at the time, but they weren’t. On a good day, I find this a fascinating phenomenon. On a bad day, I curse the heavens for this warping of reality that results in me sounding like a hack. Another INWYT phenomenon is related to vowel clarity. Sometimes a sequence like [A][a][o] can seem perfectly clear and well-differentiated in my mind, but on playback turns into only two vowels, or peculiar sounds that have no use in Western art song.

Because I am a believer in a functional approach, I try my best to not go for “pretty” sounds. Going for pretty is usually doomed to fail because of INWYT. Oftentimes I will get a nice clear vowel that can move and swell and speak beautifully, and am delighted about how fine it sounds on playback, but I will never get it back if I try to go for the timbre again. I will not get a beautiful “sound” unless I have a clear concept of its functional elements. Vowel, pitch, intensity, rhythm, go!

The way I see it presently, the positive attitude that the singer needs to adopt about the results they’re getting might encompass one or more of these: 1) Be very clear about your intention, and know that the more clear and correct the concept, the better the result. 2) Believe that everything you do is beautiful, so you short circuit the question of the “beauty” of what you do (seems to be helpful for performance mode). 3) Allow yourself to be a combination of slightly stupid and optimistic.

INWYT is the reason why we must have other ears that we trust to help us to improve. When we are in the practice room by ourselves, we must remember that the ears we possess at the time of singing are not the same as the ears we have when we play back the recording. Learning how our monitoring system relates to the sounds we are making is one of the great skills of singing.

When you have a "bad voice" day

Every once in a while I get myself painted into a corner, and I realize I have to go back to basics. A practice session gone bad can go something like the following. Caution: this is an attempt to capture stream-of-consciousness!

==== begin mental chatter transcript

Hmm, I’m hearing that pulled-down throaty sound in the recording. Ah, now can feel it happening! /a/ should be brighter, I’ll try to let it stay buoyant and bright. But shit, now I’m breathing high and tight and I’m totally self-conscious and trying to fix things. Here I go again, making it difficult. I know I need to NOT pull my tongue back and do that veiled, woofy thing. But thinking about NOT doing something is really hard. What can I think of to do in its place? All my vowels sound dull and flat, but “brightening” them just adds a new layer of angst to everything? Argghhhh!! I’ve been through all this before, and I do eventually get out of it. Think, Brian, think!

Let me go back to basics. So often, working on very simple, calm onsets gets me out of my pickle. Little starts, shortish notes, so that I can focus on beginnings. /a/ five times, with little refreshes between. There we go, nothing fancy, just a clear “ah” without a big windup, without a huge heaving inhale, just “ah”. Now, what happens if I do a little swell on that clear onset? Oh my, it feels like nothing’s happening, yet it sounds much better. Can I trust “nothing”? Yes, you idiot, when you set up the right conditions, you get the right responses, and the interfering tensions are not even in the picture…..

==== end mental chatter transcript

One of the things that I have gotten much better at, is giving myself lots of latitude in solving problems. I have messed myself up before, and I will again, but I also know that with every passing year, I learn how to get myself out of my vocal messes more easily. I’ve helped myself and lots of other people solve their vocal self-destruct tendencies many times in the past, and I will again! So now I don’t feel like flinging myself off the balcony every time I sing like a pig. I try to be kind to myself, step back, and look at the big picture. I know my tendencies. I know the conditions I need in which to sing my best. I also know what frame of mind I need to be in to keep myself open to the possibility of improvement, of singing better than before, which is by definition a great unknown. Getting more comfortable with uncertainty is a big lesson of singing for me. There are principles that should produce predictable results, but we humans are constantly growing and changing, therefore there are always unfamiliarities cropping up. Being open to change, to the unknown, is a prerequisite to improvement.

The other thing to remember is that it’s OK to ask for help. Realize when you need it, learn how to state a problem clearly, without ego involvement, without judging yourself, and find yourself the best people you can to consult. Then the big challenge when others are involved – listening! Do you hear completely what your trusted team is telling you? Are you willing to try what they say? How many people have to say the same thing to you before you are willing to face the possibility that it’s true? How many times does each person need to say the same thing? I know that I have had several vocal issues to work on that I have avoided the first one, two, five, or ten times that I noticed them. Then suddenly I decide that it’s time to lick that particular problem. We have to forgive ourselves and keep moving. I go through a brief period of cursing my laziness from time to time, and then I get over it and move on.

Each time I repeat all that stuff above, it gets easier to deal with. That is one of the advantages of “maturity”. You learn that you’re going to make mistakes, progress isn’t always in a straight line, and you really can solve problems. And so you do.