I love teaching singing lessons. However, more than just singing lessons, they are lessons in self-discovery. At times, I feel more like a psychologist. Let me clarify that I don't give advice or guidance on personal matters; that's what real psychologists are for. The voice is completely intertwined with the self, as it is the expression of who we are. This connection makes it inevitable to feel naked when singing. Singing is an act of vulnerability. People often fear vulnerability because it is perceived as a weakness, but without it, there is no meaningful communication.
For me, singing begins with the sound that emerges from a person during a normal conversation.
I like to start by listening to the sound of the speech of the person in front of me, and this is an exercise I conduct in my classes. Let’s say the person’s name is Cecilia. I’m interested in hearing Cecilia tell me about her breakfast or lunch. When she talks about the food she likes or the things she enjoys doing, she’s not thinking about supporting the sound with her diaphragm, or about her soft palate, tongue, or the tension of her jaw. She’s thinking about eggs, bacon, cereal, sandwiches, or the beach, the breeze, the sea!
I love observing how easily her muscles articulate the words with quick and imperceptible movements and how the sound is clear and unaffected. The precise phonemes, the instant communication. I’m assuming that Cecilia doesn’t have any physiological or pathological issues in her daily life. The body learns to coordinate itself to create sounds, to express itself, to survive. And it does so by finding the simplest, most efficient path, the one that demands the least energy. Our bodies really like to conserve energy.
We, on the other hand, like to complicate things. To understand how our systems function, we have found it necessary to dissect speech and singing into small pieces. We all have different ways of understanding, and in a certain way, it makes sense to break things down to comprehend them.
But I find myself questioning that method more and more.
We are all built more or less the same way. We all have the same tongue, palate, teeth, etc. But the shape of those parts, the tiny variations, as well as the way our neurons connect, determine how we perceive ourselves, how we understand the world, and how our bodies coordinate. These connections are so diverse that they create an infinite palette of possibilities for understanding and vocal expression.
For these reasons, I no longer believe in formulas.
We never consciously listen to ourselves. We never consciously breathe or walk; we never notice, so my job is to serve as a mirror for Cecilia to see herself. The hardest part of this job is trying to be as neutral as possible so that Cecilia can discover who she is and recognize herself in her sound without imposing my ideals of how her voice should sound. I don’t think it’s completely possible, but that’s my intention when I work with other singers.
First, you must observe and notice without intervening.
When Cecilia begins to discover herself and become aware of her voice, there is usually rejection. The sound that she hears in her head in her daily life doesn’t match what the outside world hears. And there lies what I believe is the most difficult hurdle to overcome: the idea that the sound she produces is not enough to express herself. Because Cecilia doesn’t like it, she thinks that sound is inadequate. And because of this belief, she decides to try to “improve” it. As if that sound hadn’t been with her since the day she was born, expressing every emotion, joy, and frustration.
The problem is that in trying to improve the sound, what usually happens is that she interferes with her nature, with her way of expressing herself.
For me, the primary goal of someone interested in learning to sing is to recognize themselves in their sound. To fall in love with it, with all its imperfections and shortcomings, with all its richness and possibilities. Because when you accept what you are, you open up the possibility for your voice—that sound—to develop and enrich itself based on its uniqueness. On what’s true to that body.
Random man on YouTube that I love
Competitions like The Voice emphasize the circus-like aspect, how high someone can sing, how powerful a voice is. Those are desirable qualities but not necessary to express the infinite variety of human emotions. There’s a difference between impressing and moving.
An athlete impresses; an artist moves.
You choose who you want to be.