Just before Christmas break, I'd say it was actually about 3 weeks before the break, while pondering, praying, and practicing, I discovered a new posture in my throat that had much to do with the position of the back of my tongue, which completely changed the quality, size, feel, and ring of my voice. It is still my voice and I still sound like me, but a much improved me.
This new posture felt like the "ng" position I had read about on David Jones' "The Singing Teacher" website and which my first voice teacher at BYU, Evan Davis, in 1974-7 had tried to teach me using an exercise on the word "hungee". It opened my throat on the front (anterior) side and felt like the back of my tongue moved forward to allow my epiglottis to stand straight up like Dr. Arden Hopkin had told me about a few years ago. With this my voice sounded deeper and brighter, ring"ier" and LOUDER (and more "operatic" as my accompanist put it) than ever before. This result was reminiscent of what I had heard Clayne Robison talk about with his statement of "So long as the breath is right, DEEPER is BRIGHTER!" It seemed to solve all of the "problems" I had been having with my voice.
It felt/feels like I was making much more circumfrant (is that even a word?) space at the collar of the larynx than ever before, which called to mind the 6:1 ratio and the widening of the collar of the larnyx that Ingo Titze and Johan Sundberg wrote about in their voice science books, which Arden Hopkin had also brought to my attention. I found this space by thinking about all of these things along with trying to make sense of Stanford Olsen's comment about how I was pulling back on the position of my jaw while singing. When I showed Stanford in December what I had found, I made the observation to him that it sounded so dark to me, but his comment was, "It doesn't sound dark, just more complete." Not so amazing was the fact that with my tongue moving forward, I was no longer tucking my jaw back against my neck. Stan also told me to watch carefully in the mirror and to beware of my [a] vowel. When I did, it helped to make the things I was discovering more consistent.
I worked on it some over the break, but have spent still more time with it since coming back to school and have found that the way I think about this sensation has modified as I have worked on it. At first, there was the mental position of needing to just give the back of my tongue permission to move that far forward and hump up in the middle to allow for so much more space in the oropharynx. My tongue in this position, when I allow it, actually touches my top back teeth on the sides at times and at first it seemed my tongue wanted to hang forward out of my mouth (luckily I've gotten that under a little better control). My thoughts then modified to a second tier where I would think of allowing the opening of my throat to move towards the front and sides of my body horizontally, not just vertically (high soft palate and lowered larynx), which took care of my tongue position without my having to think about it. (Thinking about its position can tie anyone's tongue up in knots). And lately, while continuing to pursue this vocal posture, along with looking for and discovering the optimal register balance for a smooth transition into my lower voice, I have been aware of a sensation that feels like the internal anchoring of my larynx to my chest (literally). This has reminded me of the work I did, again with Arden, on finding and developing my "primal" sound and feeling what I termed at the time the "settled larynx." I still think this term accurately describes what it feels like for me because it works best when I identify the position and engagement of the sound in my lower voice and then, while maintaining the position I find there, move upwards in pitch and hang on to that sensation. Hence, "settling" the larynx and letting it ride in that settled place
But the difference now lies in how open my throat feels. It reminds me of a comment I heard of, reportedly by Marilyn Horne, when she was asked what it felt like to sing and her response was, "It feels like throwing up." With my throat this open, it does feel just like that. I also find I mustn't and don't need to release this very open position or the register engagement much at all until several notes past the secondo passaggio. Only when I get to the notes just before what I lovingly refer to as my tertio passaggio into the upper extension do I feel it necessary to release much at all, though I'm sure there is some gradual modification on the way up (logically there has to be), but I don't have to be conscious of it until the highest locus. There is a very unique strength and distinctive quality ("chiaroscuro") that comes into my voice when I get the balance of registers right in the lower register and when that sound appears I also find that the aforementioned tongue/throat posture is also there and vice versa, when I assume that throat posture, the right sound and balance seems easier to achieve.
The benefits of this new vocalism are plentiful. In addition to the already mentioned "deeper and brighter, ring"ier" and LOUDER" immediate results, I have found it much easier to achieve a more unified tone quality and ease of accessibility into my lower register, whereas before I was having trouble for some time in getting my voice to even phonate through the primo passaggio. I can also hear a distinct increase in lower partials providing a "richer" quality to the tone and what's really exciting is that it doesn't impact the range of my voice. If I was doing something really funny (read: wrong), that would not be the case.
None of this is automatic for me yet, but it is getting easier and not nearly as awkward as at first. I still have to think hard with very focused concentration on maintaining this new vocal posture and more energetically engaged lower voice through the lower passaggio and upwards, but it is coming and, with time, it will be "the only way I know how to sing."
Friday, February 8, 2008
Spring Semester Info & Musings
Things are going well here in Tallahassee. We are a month into the Spring 2008 semester. January was a hard month for me emotionally. When people asked me how my Christmas break had been, my standard answer was, "Too good! It was so good I didn't want to come back!" It just gets harder and harder each time to say goodbye to my husband. Though I continually miss him tremendously, I think I'm moving past the low spot I found myself in after Christmas. What's helping is that I'm getting immersed in the preparation for my upcoming recital that will be held on April 10th, 2008. This recital fills one of four recital requirements for my doctoral degree: 2 solo, 1 lecture, 1 large ensemble (orchestra or opera). Then it will be 1 down, 3 to go!
I'm also taking a French Literature Survey course (the one they told me after my diagnostics I needed to fill the gap in my knowledge). These two activities (recital and lit class) eat up all 9 of the credits for the semester that my Grad Assistantship affords me: 4 cr - voice lessons, 2 cr - recital coaching, 2 cr - recital performance, and 1 cr - French Lit. I told someone the other day, "If I had more to do, I'd get more done." So, I'm looking for and finding different ways to structure my practice and rehearsal and study time so that I actually do get the important things done. It's weird to not have an external structure imposed (read: somebody else telling me where I'm supposed to be and for how long each day), so an internally imposed structure becomes even more important. I'm learning...
I'm also taking a French Literature Survey course (the one they told me after my diagnostics I needed to fill the gap in my knowledge). These two activities (recital and lit class) eat up all 9 of the credits for the semester that my Grad Assistantship affords me: 4 cr - voice lessons, 2 cr - recital coaching, 2 cr - recital performance, and 1 cr - French Lit. I told someone the other day, "If I had more to do, I'd get more done." So, I'm looking for and finding different ways to structure my practice and rehearsal and study time so that I actually do get the important things done. It's weird to not have an external structure imposed (read: somebody else telling me where I'm supposed to be and for how long each day), so an internally imposed structure becomes even more important. I'm learning...
I'm really excited about my recital repertoire. The first half of my program is all Franz Liszt in three different languages: 4 French, 3 German, & 1 monster Italian. The second half is the song cycle "To Be Sung Upon the Water" by Dominick Argento. This cycle has 8 songs which I am falling in love with, I have to say. It is written with very clear 20th century compositional techniques (don't roll your eyes...) that are entirely palatable and soooo accessible because they seem so tonal -- EVEN the 12 tone row song. It's pretty amazing. I'm learning some very important things about my voice too that I'm sure people have been trying to tell me for some time, but they are finally all lining up in a very different sensation in my throat. I'm grateful for the time to focus on "finishing" the training of my voice; that's "finishing" in the sense of refining and polishing or making something that is already good even that much better, though I do wonder sometimes why it has taken me so long to figure these things out. But then I remember, that it has happened in just the way God intended it to be, and I'm really fine with it all.
Labels:
French,
literature,
recital,
Spring semester
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