I have always done music. I'm sure that everyone in this family would relate if I described our family's long road trips where the kids in the back made up song after song, singing "alto" and "soprano" and rounds and enjoying the drama of creating various experimental sounds; trying out "vibrato" by shaking the voice, trying out the pop-scoops and other stylized techniques used in popular singing, making up silly songs, making up sad songs, making up songs that have stories.
I have always been a singer.
When I say that I don't mean I've always been a good singer, I just mean that, in my deepest essential desires and pleasures, singing has ranked number one, always.
When I started the music program at Ricks, I realized two things: 1) I didn't have the typical voice for a vocal performance major, and even not really the sort of technique I needed if I wanted to be a music edcuation major and 2) I wasn't sure I wanted that.
I quit the music program and went on to major in Psychology, which I also found I loved. I decided to put singing aside for a while, as it was a source of stress and pain for me, sort of a traumatic reminder of what I thought I had "given up on." It took me about two years to realize that I wasn't happy, not singing. I looked around and tried a few different voice teachers before I found the people I sing with now.
My current teacher wrote his thesis on "beautiful singing" and exactly what that means. He worked with Clayne Robison, a notable voice professor at BYU, who has done lots of research on the subject. Because my teacher's take on what made a performance worthwhile and what makes singing enjoyable helped me to understand my own voice, I thought it might be interesting (in the wake of other discussion about what is good music, etc) to present the ideas here.
According to my teacher's philosophy, there are two types of performance, two points on a continuum. They are "OOOPS" at one end and "UBU" at the other.
OOOPS stands for "The One and Only Opulent Sound." Pear shaped, legato, round, with a pleasant, not-too-wide-not-too-narrow vibrato, this sound is the one that tends to be favored by those who have been educated, or those who are trying to make a career as a classical singer. A good example of this is Placido Domingo. You listen to him and just can't help be in awe of what he can do with his voice (or at least, I can't. I realize that others would hold someone else up as their favorite example).
UBU stands for, "Ugly but Useful." Ugly in this case is a relative term; bascially just a sort of counter to the previous classification. In no way are these voices unpleasant to listen to; they can be stimulating and fun and enjoyable. Think Carol Bernette; not unpleasant, just not the standard. She couldn't be an opera singer, singing the way she does. The magic for her is in the way she is able to shape her voice into a character, and the overall performance can be comedic or pathetic or lovely and powerful.
Almost everyone falls somewhere in the middle. In my case, there is more UBU to my voice than OOOPS. In learning to understand what my purpose was, vocally, I had to understand that yes, people did love to hear me sing! And yes, my voice teacher at Ricks had a problem with my voice. It was confusing to me before, a source of real difficulty and some pain. How could I be a bad singer if people loved to listen to me? And how could I be a good singer if my voice teacher at Ricks told me I wasn't?
It's all about where someone comes from. IN trying to shape my voice into the "standard" so that I could pass juries full of professors who had learned OOOPS as the appropriate measuring stick, I failed miserably. But that is not the only way to sing, the only purpose of singing, the only standard of beauty.
The funny thing is, I have been with this other teacher for five years now. I have improved by leaps and bounds (though there is still leagues of room for improvement) and just now, have I started to feel like I'm capable. I'm a good singer. (I follow that in my mind with an angsty, dang it! See, that's very revealing. I still feel defensive of my voice.) Anyway, just recently, I have come back around, full circle... I'm starting to try to learn how to sing classically. In my heart of hearts, I want so badly to be able to perform classical pieces, to have the lovely pear-shaped tone, to have the fluid, gorgeous vibrato that is neither too loose nor too tight. I want it for myself, and am just beginning to be able to admit this, because I can rest on the truth that I have something good to offer when I sing.
I am curious about all of your musical journeys. I can't believe that this isn't a common experience among musicians... self doubt, frustration, sadness and even a little bit of despair at times as you hone your instruments, whatever they may be, and find your own niche and talents as a performer. I have shared this experience with you because I want to find out if this is a universal experience, and I want to know what all of you had to do to become the musicians that you are.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
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I think all music is expressive. By its very performance, it seeks audience. Some times you might intend to be your own audience (by humming to yourself, practicing, playing for release, etc.). Other performances are obviously directed to others, whether for glory, or service, or attention. In all cases, it expresses something of self for the purpose of being received, interpreted, contemplated, and understood. All of these purposes are fraught with risks and nearly impossible to achieve perfectly. That is the art we want to perfect!
ReplyDeleteA lot of the pain of your post is from your reaction to external influences. Someone rejects your expression (on frivolous terms no less!) and you feel personally rejected, alone and confused. As indicated in your last paragraph, this can be frustrating, even saddening. But self-doubt and despair are exclusively your own fault and thus can be completely removed from your experience.
Nearly everyone feels self-doubt and despair at one time or another. Those who overcome must realize two facts: both self-doubt and despair take root in fear and pride and they can be completely eliminated through humility and hope. It's a simple decision, though difficult to achieve.
Many artists take the easy way out. The alternative to humble hope is to pump up the ego, withdraw from society, or suffer wide-ranging emotional bouts. Sadly, the world seems to equate these with brilliant artistry when they are actually less-effective coping mechanisms for failed or imperfect means of self expression.
"Successful" artists are those who learn to improve imperfect means of self-expression, whether by egotistical armor or humble improvements, the results may be similar. Over the long-term, humble learning, hard work, and large doses of hope are what really reshape us into better communicators, better artists, better friends, and constructive builders of humanity. And I'd much rather be married to a humble, hopeful, hard-working artist! :-)
Incidentally, I've always felt that your artistic impediments were more mental than physical. Singing is an especially complex expression with layers of conscious and unconscious meaning. I expect it to improve as your internal persona changes, relaxes and cleans out emotional baggage that creeps into your expressive voice. Your challenge is not the pipes, the wiring, or the bellows; it's your sub-conscious layers of feeling dominating your expression, unbidden. I think that is why learning to act can make such a difference. Fundamentally, it teaches us how to channel feelings and thoughts—the complete person—into intentional action, physically expressed or otherwise.
And I'd much rather be married to a humble, hopeful, hard-working artist! :-)
ReplyDeleteAs you wish :)
The humble part's probably the hardest.
I've always felt that your artistic impediments were more mental than physical. Singing is an especially complex expression with layers of conscious and unconscious meaning. I expect it to improve as your internal persona changes, relaxes and cleans out emotional baggage that creeps into your expressive voice.
ReplyDelete--- I wanted to comment on this, too, and forgot.
I agree to a point. But there are some things that just physically come easier to some, than others. Some of it is bellows, wiring, pipes... in short, anatomy. Some of it, I'd have to assume, is also experience; the way you learn how to sing probably has a huge impact on the singing you do for the rest of your life.
I feel like I've mostly put lameness behind me... right now it's more reflective, when I consider my experiences, and I think about how my experience might help others, not just with music but in life.
I think the struggle to be a better person is the biggest challenge, artistically speaking... perhaps you are your own greatest work of art.
I haven't heard much of your solo singing in person, but I have heard a number of your recordings on the BFB cd's which I have greatly enjoyed. How tiring it would be if everyone's voice were exactly alike.
ReplyDeleteAs far as baring my soul about my musical experiences . . .
I love to sing--it's the most natural music expression. But I have don't have a solo voice--I wouldn't be very far along your teacher's Continuum--I sing about the same as the guy down the street. Years ago when I started writing songs I discoverd that there was no one else to sing them so I had to do it myself. Which influenced the types of songs I wrote--there was no point in writing songs requiring a big, dramatic, emotional, beautiful voice--such a song would sound silly if I sang it. I didn't like how my voice sounded but my desire to write songs trumpted that dislike. Nowadays I am much more accepting of how I sing--maybe after years of singing with children as a parent and a as a teacher.
At times when I have been around accomplished musical performers I have always felt outclassed and embarrassed. It used to be when I tried to play oboe in a little local orchestra (it would have helped if I had practiced); more recently if I rub shoulders with other school music directors. No doubt it's jealousy on my part, as I chafe against their (real or imagined) air of superiority--which they are usually deserving of. It makes no sense to begrudge them what they are able to do. Their training and talent do really produce somthing wonderful. Pride is a funny thing: if it bothers you in someone else, you probably have some of it yourself.
I have written music over the years. When I first started, I kind of naturally assumed--it only seemed fair--that if I put a lot of effort into writing music others would respond by being interested in hearing it. The reality of how things really are has been discouraging and depressing at times. However some people have heard it--and my kids were raised immersed in it and they have respected it and responded to it.
But all in all, there is a lot that is frustratingly human, social, non-musical, , and sometimes heartbraking in the "journey to musicianship." There has to be a reason to put up with all of that, wherever we are on whoever's Contimuum--music itself is so strong and delightful. It is one of the Real things.
I think it's amazing the difference that a teacher or mentor can have (positive or negative). I took a semester of voice lessons while at BYU, and my teacher didn't really encourage me or make me feel like I was a good singer. At the time I was contemplating auditioning for the choir education program, and decided against it, and I think I decided not to do it partly because of that voice teacher. (looking back I don't think it would have been right for me anyway, so it's ok). But it's amazing the influence someone like that can have on you and your own self-image.
ReplyDeleteI ended up majoring in music because of a series of music teachers who inspired and encouraged me. If I had had a teacher like the one you had at Ricks, I don't know that I would have. I'm sorry you had that experience-- it sounds like your teacher now is way cooler.
And you have a beautiful voice.
Being a musician can be very frustrating one minute and amazingly satisfying the next. I find that I cannot rely on the approval of others when I'm performing but have to just be happy (or sometimes not) with the way I've played or sung some piece.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a teenager taking piano lessons, my teacher insisted that I enter a contest for pianists. I practised my piece, Chopin's Revolutionary Etude, for many months. I could sort of play it well with the music but of course I was required to have it memorized. AARGH! When I perfomed it for the judges, my mind went completely blank, my fingers turned to rubber and I played the last phrase (the only part I could play automatically) and sat down totally humiliated. I rarely ever play piano solos in public now unless they are fairly simple and I have the music in front of me.
When I accompany the school choirs at choir festival I practically have a heart attack. And I always notice how all the other accompanists seem to play extremely difficult music effortlessly. But that being said, I must admit how much I enjoy rehearsals nearly every single day when I'm not so pressured. Just being immersed in music on a daily basis is so satisfying (and Ron chooses to work on very good quality pieces, some of which he writes himself) I cannot imagine life without music! God is so good to us!
Pride is a funny thing: if it bothers you in someone else, you probably have some of it yourself
ReplyDeleteWow. I'll have to think about that....
Adelle, I'm so glad you went on to do music. It's funny; I think in this continuum even, a completely different kind of music is skipped over, and that's the kind uncle Ron described in his previous post. Who needs a showy voice for a lullaby? In fact, isn't a lullaby much better sung, in a pure, clear, normal sort of voice? Allison Kraus's voice has those qualities, and her music is just lovely. I'd choose it over placido anyday if I had to listen to something for an hour, or if I wanted background music that made me feel good, or if I wanted to choose a song to sing for fun, I'd choose something simple on the guitar as opposed to an opera or broadway piece.
Aunt Linda, you are someone i was thinking of when I thought about who in our family might be more on the OOOPS side of things, and it's wonderful to hear that you have dealt with this too. (Sorry, not wonderful that you have had struggles, but wonderful to know it's a universal experience). You're right that, in the end, you have to decide whether you feel you did well or not, and not wait for someone to tell you. This has to be one of my weaknesses as a performer, I think. I always ask JEff after a recital what he thinks, and he smiles and shrugs and says, "it was nice." But just hearing it is somehow wierdly important to me.
I forgot to add, my teacher came by the house today and he'd read this, and wanted to make sure I gave credit for the OOOPS UBU theory to Michael Bean, a professor he associated with at BYU when he first came as voice faculty. And it's the One and Only Opulent Perfect sound. I left out perfect :)
ReplyDeleteJust my opinion, but I'd much rather listen to an UBU singer than an OOPS singer. I enjoy listening to a sound that I can relate to on an everyday basis.
ReplyDeleteI used to sing in high school and college and really enjoyed it. I suppose I could have taken it further, but like you, I moved on. I just never went back.
It's really pretty funny- my reaction to these posts on music. I get so worked up, so frustrated with some types of thought. (Not any of you! But, I mean, really, TWO categories in all? Music is a spectrum? I have a really hard time agreeing with that.) I know it really has something to do with what my dad said about pride- I've got a LITTLE pride about my own opinions, sounds like. Haha! Anyway- I've never enjoyed being labeled (isn't that original), and just knowing what some voice teachers (not yours Nosurf!) do to wonderful voices. They twist and diminish them until they sound like nothing but wannabees who aren't very good. The reason I say this is because I've had a lot of friends who've started out as vocal majors and been told they have inferior voices. They don't! They have the wonderful voice God gave them. Sure, not everyone's the next opera queen (thank goodness, in my opinion) but that doesn't mean they're no good. (Now, as a caveat to all that, I do understand that music programs have to be weeded out, just like any other program. And I'm sure vocal teachers get tired of every freshman girl thinking she's the big cheese cause she used to sing solos in her high school choir. I just wish there was a way to deter people without telling they are hopeless.)
ReplyDeleteWhew. Anyway- see, there's the pride I was talking about. I've got it in bucketfuls it seems. Personally, I've tried (in my stunning journey to musicianship) to avoid singing like any one type. That is one of the things that is actually most annoying about theater sometimes. They want everyone to sing like Bernadette Peters. I actually really like old Bernie (so those of you who wanted to pounce on her as an example of terrible singing, you've been warned- you know I'm a fan)- but come on- there's only ONE BP! Let's keep it that way.
I guess that's kind of how I feel about singing in general. Not that you can't take styles or whatever from different singers and use them- but, make your own voice! And like it! I don't think you should expect everyone to like it (or maybe even most people), but as long as you're sounding like YOU, that should be good enough. (Another note here; I've known so many people who are trying to make it big, and about, let's see, 99.9% lose themselves in trying to be what people want. Haven't they noticed that artists who are remembered for being real memorable musicians (for their music, not their 'image') are famous cause they brought something that was all their own, that was charming and believable because it wasn't worn out from constant copying. I'm not saying using and adapting is bad- cause I think that's unavoidable- but originality takes a bit of knowing who you are. Yikes, what a ramble.)
I guess what I'm trying to say is, Nosurf, my favorite songs of yours to listen to are the simple ones, the ones where you seem at ease in your own element. I really like those songs a lot. The same goes for any of the family musicians. Earnestness is nice. Uncoolness or maybe just nonconformity sounds the best to me, especially when it's someone I know. That doesn't mean refinement is bad, either, cause it's obvious you've got to work on a skill to make it worth something. I just like down-to-earth performances, which I think you, and most members of our family, do very well.
but, make your own voice! And like it!
ReplyDeleteI think that's what I'm working on. The question for me has always been, what is my voice?
It's funny, Camilla. I read what you write and I agree wholeheartedly. I think in the end things like theories (any theories, that includes psychological theories) have been made by people who are trying to help others, for the most part.
For instance, if you get a bunch of clients coming through your office exhibiting similar symptoms, and you notice that the same sorts of solutions tend to help them, you create a "category" or "classification," and then describe the things you have found to help those in that situation.
For me, I found the right person who could help me. Carolee took from this same teacher and didn't quite find what she needed, so she started with a different one and then took off. It's all about what you want for yourself, and whether you feel you are becoming that.
I love singing simple melodies, and listening to them. I also love singing broadway (but not necessarily like Bernadette Peters. If I were to hold up a broadway voice as an example of what I'd like to be able to do, it'd be more like Lea Salonga.) I think listening to others, and figuring out how they do what they do, and having a teacher there to help me figure out the way my own voice works, is an immense blessing for what I want. Which is... to be able to belt. To be able to sing opera if I want. And to be able to sit at the guitar and sing something lullabye-like as well.
Anyway, I love our family's take on music, and all the different styles and things people enjoy. It's fun, being in a group of such diverse talent.
Hey NoSurf, all this talk of voice lessons and singing has just made me want to hear you sing. Right Now! Wishing...
ReplyDeleteha. ;) I want to have a Blackham family musical thing again... come thou fount was awesome.
ReplyDeleteIt seems most journeys to master a skill come with "self doubt, frustration, sadness and even a little bit of despair at times."
ReplyDeleteMost skills/talents thrive on being shared with others. And it seems when a talent is shared it can lead to you lifting yourself up, or you lifting others up. I don't think any talent has much worth if it is hidden, but the problem is that when you share your talent you open yourself up to some terrible possibilities some bad, but some oh so good. Without you sharing your talent the bad isn't possible, but neither is the great good. And since we are here to grow, maybe that is why it makes Heavenly Father so upset when we stunt that growth (even/especially when we do so out of out fear).
That's kind of a long prelude to commenting on what you said about journeying to musicianship. I do think that the hard parts you experience on your journey is part of the journey to master something. Your tough times along the path to musicianship have led you to have the perspective you now have on music. It helped you to realize that there isn't one right way of singing. It also helped you to realize that you can master something with dedication.
Pres Grant (the prophet not the general) may not have mastered singing in his life time, but others did say that after a very LONG process he improved considerably. I took a group voice class at BYU and one of the key philosophies in that class is that anyone can learn to sing and to sing well. And I really believe that. I strongly believe that about skill (when there aren’t obvious physical limitations, but even then I don’t count that person out).
I recently read a book titled Outliers where it talked about a research study that took a group of college musicians and tried to find any discernible differences, besides their abilities, between the virtuosos, the almost virtuosos, and those not close. They found that each of those groups had practiced about the same when they were children but as they got older the amount of practicing by each group began to vary. In the end the college virtuosos were the ones who had practiced 10,000 hours so far in their lifetime, the almost virtuosos about 8,000 hours, and the not closers practiced 4,000 hours in their lifetime.
My point in sharing this? I think you can develop and become a good classical singer if you want to. I don’t think it’ll be a painless process, but I believe you can.
Thanks for sharing this post NoSurf. It got me to think about my own journey to musicianship and how I’m still on it.
And I agree with everyone else, you do have a beautiful voice.