Get to the kernel of it.
What is your identity?
The question is a head-scratcher, for sure, but it’s worth asking.
Is it your name, your hometown, your race, your religion? Is it your job, your interests, your accomplishments? Is it the sum total of your family history? Is it the same thing you put on your tax form every year?
No.
Let’s get to the kernel of it: What remains when all those things fall away? What shows when the outer labels are taken off and the packages opened? What are people ultimately left with when they have interacted with you, even if they forget your name or what you do for a living? What do they connect with? What do YOU connect with?
If you peel back all the layers and end up with things like “my faith” and “my family,” look further: What is your faith about? What’s your family about? What’s the kernel of that?
Keep going. There comes a point where you can really go no further, when you end up with something like “love,” or “joy.” And you’ll notice that the more particular you get about the kernel, and the more specific you get about identity, the more universal that core idea becomes. It’s something that anyone can recognize, something that transcends all labels, categories, and distinctions. You as a person will disappear, and all that’s left is ____________.
You Are Not Your Voice
Even though the larynx is an organ in your body from which comes your unique sound expression as a human being, it is not YOU.
The reason I say this: If you’re a developing singer who receives criticism or coaching on your sound, your natural tendency is to think it’s about YOU. But it’s not. If you think of your voice as a separate instrument and don’t identify with it personally, you have a much better chance of being open to suggestions and coaching that can improve your performance.
I know this because I went through it in college: I thought I was hot stuff as a singer going into choir auditions, but the first time I was given suggestions to improve my tone, I thought it was an attack on my very person. When my voice teacher gave me my first practice assignment, I discovered just how personal I was taking things: I went into a windowless practice room, locked the door, and turned out the lights because I realized I couldn’t be with myself. As much as I thought I was a good singer, I wasn’t on good terms with my voice.
Instrumentalists have an easier time depersonalizing their music-making, because their instrument is not a biological organ. Out of tune? Just adjust your fingering, your mouthpiece, your strings, or your embouchure. But if you’re a singer? Whole different story. You think, “There’s something wrong with ME.” And it’s that kind of self-talk that can kill your love of singing.
Don’t let that happen.
Even if you were told as a child that you were “tone-deaf” or “monotone” (which is a travesty and simply not true in all but a fraction of a thousandth-percent of the whole population), you must not take a criticism of your voice as a criticism of YOU. When you separate your voice from yourself, you can open it up to possibilities that can make a difference in your singing. And whether those possibilities are presented to you from outside feedback or your own self-evaluation, they should help you become more self-expressed and authentic as a singer.
Beating Stage Fright: the 6th Tip
Last week at VoiceLab a new insight came to me with regard to stage fright and how to handle it:
6. Let YOURSELF be there. You can be onstage and still not be present. Be in the present moment, in the present location, right down to the bad acoustics and the cracks in the floor. Accept yourself where you are. Don’t go to your “happy place” or else pretend to be somewhere (or someone) else. Now, granted, you may be singing something designed to stimulate the imagination, or something that requires you to play a role. That’s okay. What you do is bring that experience into the present, into the very space you’re in. You’re not the one escaping reality; you are giving the audience a chance to escape from the humdrum of life and experience something only you can provide.
And there may be only two people in the audience, or as many as ten thousand. You still have to give them the VIP treatment regardless. The conditions will never be perfect, and neither will you. You may have put on the wrong shoes, or you might have gotten up too late this morning, or there’s a snafu with the sound system. But it’s okay, because you allow it to be. You are whole, complete and perfect right where you are, even if it’s behind chicken wire in the seediest honky-tonk in Alabama. Let everything be as it is, especially yourself.
Beating Stage Fright
Singing is like acting naked. It turns you inside-out; it feels like there’s more of you out there than you could ever show in casual conversation, more vulnerability than you would ever care to admit. But that’s one of the beautiful things about singing; it really is that intimate and powerful, and when the music really communicates, the audience feels something of their own vulnerability and the power of being human.
If only you could get the butterflies in your stomach to calm down!
To that end, I have some helpful ideas:
1. Let the audience be there. There are lots of tricks that performers use to try to block out their audience: they pretend that everybody’s naked, or their heads have been replaced with cabbages, or they simply ignore them and stare at the back wall or the lighted “exit” sign. Many of us also have the habit of closing our eyes while singing. But that doesn’t make the audience go away, and what’s more, you’re leaving them out of the experience. So instead of trying to block them out, let them be there. Acknowledge them and include them in your aura; they belong there, too. Having said that…
2. It’s not the audience’s job to make you feel comfortable. It’s YOUR job to make THEM feel comfortable. You are the one giving the audience the experience they came for. You are the service provider; you need to create the space of love and acceptance that’s necessary for music. They might be bent over their drinks and having conversations with each other the whole time. That’s okay; you have to let it be perfectly okay for everyone to be exactly however they are. If you go out on stage with the expectation that everyone else has to make you feel comfortable or be a certain way, you will never be comfortable singing! Besides, your discomfort will make the audience nervous, and you don’t want that.
3. You have to intend to sing. You have to consciously make the decision to sing, right down to the root of your being, when you go out there. If you open your mouth to sing and the first note cracks or doesn’t even come out at all, that’s a sign that your subconscious has changed its mind. Don’t let it! You can tell it, “thank you for sharing,” and then just settle in, let the breath drop in, and sing.
4. You will feel all of it: The butterflies, the dry mouth, the shaky breath, and all those things you experience when you’re nervous on stage. As many times as I’ve tried to prevent or tamp down those sensations, they always come. A fabulous maestra told me that when I’m rehearsing, I should imagine every possible detail of the performance and actively call up those sensations so that when the moment comes to perform, I will not be surprised by those feelings. I can say, “thank you for sharing,” let the breath drop in, and just go.
5. Practice performing. A lot. Get in front of people as often as possible to rehearse and perform. If it pushes your buttons, keep doing it, because eventually those buttons will break.
With all these suggestions, it’s really about accepting the experience, butterflies and all. If you resist the audience or entertain the thought of “this shouldn’t be happening,” the overwhelm will throw you off your game. You will get a lot more emotional stamina out of dancing with the dragon than with trying to slay it. Courage is not the absence of fear; it’s what happens when you feel the fear and do it anyway.
UPDATE: New Weekly VoiceLab
Check out the Voice Studio page to see information on a weekly voice class offered right here in the home studio. This is a place where singers can get to test themselves in front of a small, supportive audience and get coaching from peers and myself. We can try out new songs, do some group exercises, and grow the community of singers with mutual support and camaraderie. Be sure to bring an extra copy of your music (if a copy isn’t readily available here), and if you have your own accompanist, they’re welcome too. The cost is $10, and I’ll also serve some specialty tea!
Do You Work for Free?
Do You Work for Free?. Only if I know that the caterers and other folks providing services at the event that features my music are also working for free. In other words, it must be a charity event.
(Or the wedding or funeral of a loved one, but that kinda goes without saying.)
Same reason why I don’t have my Reverbnation songs available for free download.
Am I a fuddy-dudd for thinking that our current “free music” era is an abomination? True, we’ve exposed the naked emperors of the major labels and big corporations in the industry, but we’re still not putting the money where it belongs: in the hands of the artists. Instead, we’re putting it in the hands of the Internet providers who give us endless YouTube.
Am I being stingy when I don’t roll out my semitrailer of a keyboard for every open mic in town? That thing is heavy! My objective for playing open mics is to network and test myself; I don’t do it just for the joy of playing; there has to be more reason than that for me to bust my hump lugging my Casio around.
Allow me to steal a page from Ayn Rand and say yes, I’ve earned the right to play professionally and get paid for it. I’ve put in the work, I’ve built upon my talent, and I think I got something special. Nothing would make me happier than to share it with the world.
But I’m not just going to give it away. Unless you’ll give away yours, whatever it is.
Like this:
Simplify.
I had my first piano lesson last week, and it was a revelation:
Simplify.
You don’t have to play all the 7ths, all the inversions, or all the possible funky rhythms you can come up with. Just play major triads in root position: I, IV, V, I. You’ll actually find yourself playing the piece and not racking your brain on how to make it musical.
I tend to over-complicate things. I’m a music student who wants to have it ALL right NOW; I want to understand everything and get to the Promised Land today; I want to get ahead of the curve and leave everyone else behind in the dust on day one.
And because of that mentality, it takes me forever to learn the simplest things.
I learned this week that you don’t have to do everything now. You don’t have to have it all figured out after one lesson, or after a whole month or year of lessons. Take it one element at a time. It’s a very Zen way to practice, and I love it. I don’t need to play “Danny Boy” in a manner worthy of Carnegie Hall. I can just play it in a manner that has me learn the element that I need to master.
I’m in lessons to learn the skills, not the music. Of course I can’t help but learn the music, but some of us have a habit of learning and absorbing all kinds of music without learning skills. I don’t want to be that kind of musician. I already am that kind of musician, where the piano is concerned. And this is exactly why I’m taking lessons.
I’m perfectly happy to start my piano work where the yogis start their chakra work: in root position. So that’s where I’ll stay until further notice.
Like this:
That “hummy-yummy” feeling…
Never underestimate the power of humming to warm up/cool down/relax/revitalize the singing voice. And it’s not just any every-day hum, but a specific kind that I’ve grown to call “hummy-yummy.”
Try it: take a low, slow, easy breath and hum as if you were smelling or tasting something delicious, like you just put a spoonful of decadent dessert in your mouth and the flavor hits your tongue like a bomb. It’s that kind of hum. The vibration should be felt in the roof of the mouth, just around and behind the nose. The jaw is relaxed, not clenched, and the teeth are separated.
James C. McKinney has a more clinical-sounding procedure for this in his book, The Diagnosis and Correction of Vocal Faults:
Take a comfortably deep breath and think of starting to hum. You will find your mouth and your vocal cords closing in preparation for the hum….As you begin the hum, bring your teeth together firmly and try to feel a lot of “buzzy” vibration in the roof of your mouth. This type of hum is somewhat penetrating in quality but seldom breathy.
Now, with your mouth still closed, continue humming while separating your teeth by dropping the lower jaw down freely. Try to maintain as much vibration in the roof of the mouth as possible. This type of hum is more relaxed and has a better quality than the first one; it will not be breathy if it is properly produced.
And when you go further and open your mouth to sing a vowel, you want to maintain that “hummy-yummy” sensation in the mouth. It’s like riding the wave into the vowel, as a surfer would transition from lying down to standing up on a surfboard when the support of the wave is felt. A good vocal exercise to try this would be “Sol-Fa-Mi-Re-Do” on a hum, but when you reach “Do,” open to the vowel of your choice. And you just separate the lips; don’t let the jaw drop down suddenly, because the vowel will drop too and make the sound go “ka-chunk.” Make it one smooth gesture; the hum vibration should glide easily and seamlessly into the vowel.
Yummy.
The Ultimate Voice Healing - Healing the Voice
As a sound healing and voice healing practitioner, I have always been amazed at the power of sound and its ability to heal the body and soul. After successful clinical practice I moved into the world of teaching Toning for Singing for performers and feel humbled and privileged to be with some of the best voice practitioners in the world. So I want to debunk the myth about pop/rock and any singing that is not under the “healing” label.
Biting the Bullet with Piano Lessons
I’m really doing it! Meet my new piano teacher, Roberta Brown. She’s a licensed Simply Music teacher in Royal Oak who is going to take me through the next phase of my perilous journey through keyboard technique.
And it’s not going to be the same-old/same-old “Johnson’s Modern Course for the Piano”, no sir! Simply Music is an innovative teaching method developed by Australian educator Neil Moore to get students playing–and I mean really playing, not just doing some glorified typing–real contemporary and classical music in an experiential way. Students of all ages can develop a repertoire of over 30 pieces in their first year of lessons, pieces that run the gamut from blues to jazz to classical. And they’re often performing them that soon as well.
The specific course I’ll be taking is the accompaniment course, which has you learn to read lead sheets and chord symbols for the purpose of supporting singers and instrumentalists. This is really exciting because chord reading is exactly the kind of thing I have to do in my career right now–I have something at stake, which is something I never had in all the false starts I’ve had as a piano student before. I used to say, “Eh, I’ll just have my own accompanist wherever I go.” Nope, can’t guarantee that. That’s a college-kid’s thinking. We’re well beyond that.
So, yay! And don’t be surprised if I become some kind of lounge-lizard at the end of it all, playing jazz standards at an upscale Italian restaurant somewhere next year. But most likely I’ll be geared up for doing another round of accompanying for Torch This! which is definitely going to have its second incarnation sooner rather than later–stay tuned!
