Keep Things Simple
Be consistent, not like me on Substack
Here I am, starting again after this hiatus.
I practice meditation as a way to learn to listen to myself, though I often get lost in my thoughts. Eventually, I realize it and refocus on my breathing. I also lost myself in my thoughts these past months, which is why I’m refocusing now on writing. Writing can be like a form of meditation, a way to bare oneself before oneself and before an audience. In some ways, it’s like singing.
I want to be more consistent with this Newsletter so I’ll try to be less pretentious in what I write.
Keep it simple, like the singing. Hopefully.
This week, I feel inspired by Carole King. I always go back to basics, and Carole’s honest and emotional voice, combined with her songs, serves as an artistic reference for me. I hope you discover something in her rendition of this song:
I also discovered Joshua Henry. The musical Ragtime is currently on stage in New York, and out of curiosity, I looked him up after reading a review that mentioned his name. What a surprise! What an amazing singer! In a pop world dominated by tenors, I find it refreshing to hear a baritone voice, especially one with such a rich palette of colors that reflects every emotional state. I hope you like it!
On the other hand, I’ve been reflecting on politics lately. The extremes, their appeal to people, and the fact that many no longer feel represented by traditional politics. What does this tell us about ourselves and the system we live in?
The truth is, we’re not listening to each other. Listening to others, engaging in dialogue. If we don’t learn to do this, we’ll always be driven to extremes out of fear of the "other"—that other who is, in a way, also a reflection of ourselves.
Now, before I go another thought.
Yesterday, I listened to an interview with Bruce Dickinson, which made me reflect deeply on the voice. Dickinson has always been one of my favorite singers, regardless of genre. His longevity amazes me, especially given the demanding nature of his musical style.
This is from last year and starts at min 2:10, he’s 65 here:
I’ve noticed that many of my favorite singers lose vocal capacity as they age. Vocal endurance has a lot to do with youth, like Olympic gymnastics. But some singers seem to defy this decline or find new ways to approach their music. I think of voices like Stevie Wonder, here 5 days ago at 74.
and Angelo Loforese, who, like Dickinson, tackled difficult repertoires and yet maintained a fresh sound until the end of their lives.
Here is Loforese at 92:
Magda Oliveros, another legendary soprano, sang with clarity until the very end. Gregory Kunde, a tenor in his seventies, still sounds strong. Even Celine Dion, despite her illness, has kept a fresh, vibrant voice.
On the other hand, some excellent artists showed an obvious vocal decline, and their voices faded earlier than expected—Tito Schipa, Plácido Domingo, José Carreras, Raphael, Juan Gabriel, Axl Rose.
I believe that vocal longevity can largely be summed up in a phrase by Alfredo Kraus: “To endure, it’s important not to take a step longer than your leg can reach.” Essentially, respect the nature of your own voice. Some voices have natural strength, but the trap lies in trying to mimic others' vocal nature.
Or in overcomplicating the vocal technique trying to discover an elusive thrilling sound. Like me when I wanted to sing like Bruce Dickinson.
So, I’ll insist tirelessly: the first step is to know yourself, to know and respect your own voice. Work to explore your vocal limits without overdoing it. Learn to listen to your body. Accept your voice as it is, not as you wish it to be. Only after this process of knowledge and acceptance can you truly work to discover how far your voice can go. And you’re sure to surprise yourself.
Bye.