tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89379246981808402172024-03-08T13:39:19.798+01:00Ulf Wiger on SingingA tale of my development as a singer, and my hobby research into Bel canto singing.Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-36530337761239992012010-05-22T15:49:00.015+02:002011-01-04T21:11:38.139+01:00The Arts - for fun or for profit?<div>Since I haven't been posting much lately, I thought I'd dust off a draft I found lying around.</div><div><br /></div>Some time ago, I read an article (in Swedish) about the situation for poets and authors in a market-driven economy: <a href="http://www.dn.se/kultur-noje/debatt-essa/en-forlorare-slar-tillbaka-1.1023088">http://www.dn.se/kultur-noje/debatt-essa/en-forlorare-slar-tillbaka-1.1023088</a><div><br /></div><div>Being married to a freelance opera singer, and having such an impossible hobby as bel canto singing myself, I believe I have pretty good insight into the problem: A few artists reach "name recognition" and start making money. For every one who manages to break through, there are many who are as good - perhaps even better, at least in some regard - who don't. It's not fair, it's not particularly predictable, and you'd be stupid to go for a singing career for the money.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the same time, I would like to highlight one particular phrase from that article. <a href="http://translate.google.com/translate?js=y&prev=_t&hl=en&ie=UTF-8&layout=1&eotf=1&u=http://www.dn.se/kultur-noje/debatt-essa/en-forlorare-slar-tillbaka-1.1023088&sl=sv&tl=en">Google translate</a> gets it all wrong:</div><div></div><blockquote><div>"In the case of literature, which is the only area </div><div>where I have no knowledge and no transparency, ..." </div></blockquote><div></div><div>(It should be "where I have <i>some</i> knowledge and <i>some insight</i>"). </div><div><br /></div><div>This is where I think it gets problematic, and it rubs me the wrong way, and I want to describe why.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have some knowledge and some insight into several areas. Being the son of a former Olympic Track & Field coach, and having practiced sports myself with some success until my mid-20s, I claim some knowledge in that field.</div><div><br /></div><div>It takes about 10 years to become a top athlete, and during that time, you should be prepared to spend 2-4 hours/day, 5-7 days/week, training <i>hard</i>. And you'd be stupid to do it for the money - very few Track & Field athletes can make a living on their sport. As a consequence, practically everyone studies for a day job on the side. Many of my former T&F buddies are now engineers (like me), which means that while putting in this time training, they also spent 30 hrs/week at school and about the same amount doing homework. This is true even for athletes who won medals in the European Championships, and by any measure, that qualifies you as an elite practitioner. Among Swedish T&F stars, high jumper <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Staffan_Strand">Staffan Strand</a> and pole vaulter <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_Eriksson">Martin Eriksson</a> come to mind. Both won international Championship medals <i>and</i> completed advanced Computer Science degrees at the same time.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why bring this up? As a former athlete, I've been surprised that so many aspiring artists do not even attempt to prepare for a good second career. Not only do they only know one field; they seem to have no backup plan, should they fail in their bid for a spot among the few financially successful artists. In Track & Field, we had the luxury of being able to measure the quality of our performance. This could give early indicators of your potential for a successful career. It is decidedly more difficult for an artist, but shouldn't this make it even <i>more</i> important to have a backup plan?</div><div><br /></div><div>I should say that I don't necessarily fault the artists. The education system for artists does not seem to be set up to allow for a parallel career, whereas athletes are usually assumed to have a day job. In Sweden, athletes find their support mostly in non-profit organizations (clubs), where people devote their spare time to coaching and otherwise supporting athletes at all levels. I used to help out teaching coaching techniques during weekends. The students included budding athletes, former athletes interested in taking up coaching and parents who got involved in order to support their kids.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is actually quite amazing how sophisticated an "education" our athletes would get primarily through unpaid labor. What's more, those who realized that they didn't have the talent (or perhaps not the motivation) to become elite athletes, often became the backbone of the club instead, competing at a suitable level, coaching, organizing events, and rejoicing in helping others excel, while finding an outlet for their own passion and love for the sport at the same time.</div><div><br /></div><div>As my son is now playing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bandy">bandy</a>, I have found a reason to don my ancient ice skates and become one of those supportive parents collecting balls and assisting the real coaches. I was immensely proud of my son the other day as he rose at 6:30am on Jan 2 to play an away game in Västerås, losing 0-9 (they are really good) but being a great trooper all the way and putting up a good fight, with high spirits, all the way to the end. It is a great privilege to be a part of this, and of course, there is no expectation of future earnings; even most elite bandy players have jobs on the side.</div><div><br /></div><div>The other area where I claim considerable expertise is software development, and I see some interesting analogies here. For one thing, software development is intensely creative. It requires thorough theoretical knowledge, years of practice, and a highly inquisitive mind. It is in fact so intellectually stimulating that few things can compete...</div><div><br /></div><div>...or perhaps I should say, that's the way it can be. Many software developers have day jobs, where they do what they are told, and live in constant frustration because they are not allowed to use the best tools, the best approaches, and work in small, highly creative teams. They churn out industry software for a living, and then hang out in Internet forums on their free time, discussing their hobby projects with fellow hackers. The result of their work is stored on the Web as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Open_Source">Open Source Software</a>, free for anyone to use and improve.</div><div><br /></div><div>Several Open Source software projects have actually become so good that it is now among the best software money can buy (though it is free), even to the point that it is now practically impossible to develop and sell certain types of software components for profit. There is no market for anything but perhaps an even better freely available version. The software industry is going through the same kind of transformation as the record and movie industry, but is years ahead of them both.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is interesting for me to compare notes between my programmer self and my singer self. The scary part about singing is that you cannot really separate yourself from your art. You <i>are</i> your instrument, and what's more, you have very few ways to measure your quality other than other people's subjective opinion. I have <a href="http://uwiger.blogspot.com/2009/05/technique-expression-and-teaching.html">commented earlier</a> about how even professionals seem to have difficulty separating the singer's technique from his/her personality. See also Jean-Ronald Lafond's excellent blog post on <a href="http://tsvocaltech.blogspot.com/2010/11/kashu-do-debunking-talent-myth-must-for.html">"debunking the talent myth"</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>While programming is an incredibly creative and (to me) deeply personal activity, the product is very much a thing separate from myself. A program tends to either work or not, and I can judge the quality of my work by the number of bugs that are found in my programs, and how many people find them useful. Judging the quality of my singing by how many people are willing to pay to hear me sing is something I try very hard not to do.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is much to be said for having art or music as a hobby or sidekick rather than a profession. I think many artists would be better off doing so, or at least feeling that they had the choice. An education system that practically requires you to go for being an artist full-time is most likely contributing to a great deal of frustration. </div><div><br /></div><div>In a sense, I guess this could be interpreted as a plea for more market-oriented thinking: if you are good enough, or if your "product" is sufficiently in demand, you may be able to become a full-time professional. Otherwise, it may be much better to have a fallback occupation (preferably one that you enjoy a lot), and adjust your level of involvement in the Arts. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think there is a different dynamic possible for the Arts. The question is: how to get there?</div>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-57306031667299795072010-03-20T09:45:00.002+01:002010-03-20T10:47:57.751+01:00Mid-lifeI'm not sure if the Swedish saying "Mitt i Livet" (directly translated "In the middle of Life") has a direct correspondence in English. What it refers to is how life is large, unpredictable, and wonderful, even if often overwhelming.<br /><br />Having a management position in a growing IT company, wife and kids, and an exciting hobby, sometimes leaves little time for blogging. :)<br /><br />Here is a short update, though.<br /><br />I'm getting plenty of chances to practice proper singing at the weirdest places: airports, subways, walking down the streets of London, ... With a busy schedule, the alternative is usually not singing at all. You have to carefully note the sensations in your body, even while singing almost inaudibly in a crowd; it should be at least as intense as singing loudly.<br /><br />One particular sensation I've been exploring lately is one where you achieve the "long and narrow mouth" by trying to shape it not at the mouth itself, but rather as far back towards the jaw joints as you can (this is a hypothesis I stitched together myself, from pieces here and there). Just trying to shape the lips "long and narrow" does fairly little, and is very difficult if your overall position is not correct. Instead, try to invoke a "Frankenstein's monster" image, if you will, and try to narrow right where he has the screws. You should feel the jaw joints spreading...<br /><br />What does this do? When I do this, it seems to activate the "pillar" muscles of the palate, raising the soft palate, spread the jaw joints and lower the larynx, all in one motion. All these things are conducive to a low-larynx, open-throat sound. Once in this position, narrowing the mouth is trivial. The sensation of pushing in against your jaw joints, spreading the joints is also fairly distinct, which always helps. Practice in front of a mirror and observe what happens.<br /><br />I don't worry too much about tension. I think it can be counter-intuitive to worry about tension too soon. When trying to shape the mouth and pharynx in ways you never have before, you will invariably become tense in the beginning. Practice will strengthen your muscles and fine muscle coordination. I wrote about this in my <a href="http://uwiger.blogspot.com/2009/08/relaxing-at-full-speed.html">"Relaxing at full speed"</a> blogpost.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/g0tBtmy5EHM&hl=en_GB&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><p>Mario del Monaco illustrates the "long and narrow mouth" pretty well in the above clip. Notice how he breaks out of it only a few times, and each time for effect - the mad laughter, for example.</p>This technique is of course not a panacea. It is one detail, and I believe it has helped me. The test is of course whether Maestro Bengt agrees. There has to be an ongoing dialogue between teacher and student about analogies and sensations; what the student experiences and what the teacher hears. What works for me might be counter-productive to someone else.<br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.katarina-pilotti.com/english/index.html"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 100px;" src="http://www.katarina-pilotti.com/images/kp_profile.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>On a different note, Katarina's <a href="http://oru.diva-portal.org/smash/get/diva2:291620/FULLTEXT02">Master's thesis on Chiaroscuro</a> is finally available in the Swedish publication database (why it took so long is another story...). We translated it to English, and owe tremendous gratitude to Dorothy Irving for spending significant time helping us with proofreading. </p>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-41282018308596313062009-08-16T23:17:00.007+02:002018-02-27T20:19:03.658+01:00Relaxing at full speed<p>Now that Usain Bolt <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PH0SV4j1Es&t=131s" target="_blank">has broken the 9.60 barrier</a> and astounded everyone again with his laid-back style and nearly super-human powers, I thought I'd make an observation about relaxation.</p>
<p>Bolt actually pushed all the way to the finish line this time, but more than once, experts have had reason to note that he really doesn't lose as much speed as you'd think when he relaxes and just floats the last bit.</p>
<div>
<p>Most people have tried sprinting. It's hard work, and looking at the runners in the WC final, you can tell that they didn't relax their way to the top. Still, relaxation is a vital part of sprinting. How?</p>
<p>Muscles can only either contract or relax. Many muscles (not all) attach to the skeleton at either side of a joint. When e.g. bending your arm, the 'biceps' muscle contracts. When straightening it, the 'triceps' on the opposite side contracts. In each case, the 'antagonist' muscle needs to relax in order not to interfere with the work. A world-class sprinter takes ca 4.5-5 strides per second, where each stride is more than 2 meters (Bolt's strides are 2.40 m). This requires both incredible power and rapid alternation between tension and relaxation in a great number of muscles. The trick is to pull off this fine coordination while staying as close as possible to maximum output.</p>
<p>On to singing, I hear many singers and teachers talk about the importance of relaxation. What is seldom pointed out is that good singing is hard work. Relaxation in itself is not enough. You need to work to build strength as well. If you were lucky enough to find an excellent teacher when you were very young, you may have been able to develop the necessary strength and coordination organically. I started singing for real at the age of 36, and had to work systematically to learn how to engage muscles that had largely been passive until then.</p>
<p>I'm an ex-athlete (as you may have guessed), so I approached the whole thing as an athletic event. I spent several months figuring out how to raise the soft palate on demand, learned how to keep the diaphragm down while exhaling, worked on isolating the action of pulling down the larynx, etc.</p>
<p>Franco Corelli said in Jerome Hines' book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Great-Singers-Singing-Interviews-Technique/dp/0879100257">Great Singers on Great Singing</a> (pg 60) that you need young muscles to learn how to sing with a low larynx. A person who's around 40 or 50 probably won't be able to do it.</p>
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<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NGLBPjM0mIk" frameborder="0" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<p>
(The above clip is, I believe, the last of a long line of encores after a full concert with orchestra. I do believe even Mr Corelli started showing signs of strain here... Still, magnificent singing).</p>
<p>Perhaps he is right, but there is likely a continuum here, and even if you pick it up late, I believe that you can get far with proper training. But the older you are, the greater the need might be for specific exercises to discover and strengthen the diaphragm and muscles around the larynx.</p>
<p>BTW, my father started taking some lessons with Bengt at the age of 65, and showed great progress even in the first lesson. Bengt's teaching is quite physical, and Dad's been into Track & Field all his life. I don't know how much that has to do with it...</p>
<p>Development of fine motor skills progresses from rough to finer coordination, as is evident when watching a small child learn how to use their hands and fingers. For the sprinter as well as for the singer, the objective is to learn fine motor control at high intensity. This requires both development of strength and work on motor skill, alternating and in parallel. During the first years of my training, I was well aware of the fact that I was tensing too much. It was only after 5 years or so that I started to feel that I could rid myself of unnecessary tension. Before that, if I tried to relax while singing, I would invariably lose my position.</p>
<p>Better to sing reasonably well and be a bit tense, than to be relaxed and sing badly.</p>
<p>Giovanni Battista Lamperti, one of the great singing teachers of the 19th Century, said "Because of co-ordinate action, which intrigues the whole personality, muscular effort and will-power seem in abeyance. This gives rise to a feeling of ease so insiduous that a singer begins to rely on relaxation of mind and muscle - a quicksand that brings disaster [...] Do not become rigid, but never relax." (<a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=kxJCOwAACAAJ&dq=lamperti+maxims&ei=M4qISoTmFaCGygSKl93UDQ">Vocal Wisdom</a>, pg 116, chapter "Do not relax").</p>
<p>In his wonderful book <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=3XumjcQFlZsC&dq=hemsley+singing+and+imagination&printsec=frontcover&source=bl&ots=HYMPM1IznO&sig=yD5FKVVy7XamJKhi8B6_OsmGXdk&hl=sv&ei=goqISo_vJpCL-Qaa3Z27CQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1#v=onepage&q=&f=false">Singing and Imagination</a>, Thomas Hemsley wrote, "Tension is the result of lack of balance or poise. The cure for tension is not simply relaxation, but the recovery of poise. Misguided attempts to relax while singing (a very energetic activity) are probably, in the end, responsible for many more vocal problems, more unhealthy tension, than any other source" (pg 78).</p>
<p>Hemsley also writes, "Watch an athletics race on your television screen, and observe how the very best runners move. Their legs and arms are moving quite freely, and their heads and bodies appear to be quite still, moving forward as if on wheels. Singers can learn much from watching top-class athletes in action" (pg 37).</p>
<p>Now, he was talking about posture then, but I believe that there are lessons to be learned also regarding the relationship between power and relaxation.</p></div>
Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-20114413286202291732009-08-11T20:02:00.004+02:002009-08-11T21:33:31.932+02:00Pontifications of a hobby singerI don't get out much...<div><br /></div><div>...as a singer, that is. One of the problems of having singing as a hobby and pulling 10-12 hour workdays doing something else, is that you really have to limit your engagements. Luckily for me, this is no hard task - it's not like I have to turn down any offers. This year, I've received exactly two offers to sing professionally, and that about fills my quota, considering that there is also the traditional Christmas recital.</div><div><br /></div><div>This time, it was a Summer recital at Ödeby Church outside Örebro in Sweden. 'Öde' means 'desolate' in Swedish, and while the village isn't desolate per se, it is at least remote. You drive until the road seems to end, and suddenly there's a nice little Church. This being Örebro, it means that you'll be driving for about as long as it would take you to go to IKEA from Downtown Stockholm. In Örebro, the far country isn't that far away.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first weeks of my vacation reminded me that in order to sing at the level I aspire to, you really do have to sing every day. I don't really have time for that, so I cheat. I invent small exercises that I can do on the subway, in the office, in the bathroom. They seem to keep my muscles reasonably fit, but don't help much with timing, expression, and the micro-adjustments needed when singing for real. There simply isn't any substitute for doing the real thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>We had a rehearsal the week before with wonderful accompanist Jan-Erik Sandvik. It felt great, and I was convinced that a daily regimen of rehearsals for the final week would more or less guarantee that I would be at the top of my current capacity.</div><div><br /></div><div>Only I wasn't going to get that chance. A trip to London, management meetings, representation with important partners, talking to the rest of the staff... I was back to my cheating again.</div><div><br /></div><div>I returned home on Thursday. The concert was on Saturday. One day to wake up the voice, one half day to go through the program and memorize it all once more.</div><div><br /></div><div>"The only thing you have to fear is fear itself", maestro Bengt keeps telling me. Time to dust off that old saying and put stock in it. I have three things going for me:</div><div><ul><li>I believe I have really found a good position for my voice. I know how to quickly get to that place where the voice 'ignites' (vocal ring), and I've gotten pretty comfortable maintaining it. Once I'm in that position, all I should focus on is diction, legato and interpretation (...and tons of minor things, but these three will go far).</li><li>My wife Katarina would be singing with me. When we're on, she will be a rock, as always.</li><li>Jan-Erik has accompanied just about every singer in Sweden. There is nothing I can do that will throw him off-balance. He will notice if I falter, and lead me through it. </li></ul><div>Not all amateurs are so lucky.</div><div><br /></div>Things went well. The church was full, taking into account that one-third of it was occupied by scaffolding due to refurbishment. The weather was perfect, and the audience seemed to be of the same disposition.</div><div><br /></div><div>I always try to shoot video and record the audio with 'good' mics. For me, it serves a pedagogical purpose. I need to get on stage to hone my instincts and harden my courage. Publishing the result is part of that mental process. Also, feeling that the concert was a success is one thing. Seeing yourself on video afterwards is another. A lot of things you thought would work really don't, and if you remove the video and listen to audio only, it's even worse. Every reduction step cuts away some of the magic, and emphasizes the flaws. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you're up for it, it's a great learning experience. For me the keyword is 'more': more energy, more legato, better diction. My goal should be to sit down in front of a recording and observe that 'that was really too much'. Then I can start scaling back. But if you've never been there, you can't trust your instincts, and when you're on stage, that's pretty much what you're left with.</div><div><br /></div><div>Being my own sound technician adds to the challenge, of course, especially when I'm not well prepared. This time, the good mics were set up but not plugged in. The backup - the little Zoom H2 on the balcony - would have to suffice, and it wasn't the first time either, I might add.</div><div><br /></div><div>Katarina always gets to start. She is the star - I'm the sidekick - and it always calms me down when she gets the ball rolling.</div><div><br /></div><div>We sang Swedish and Finnish 'romances' - Rangström, Stenhammar, Alfvén, Körling, Sibelius... and then some Puccini at the end.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sibelius is difficult. Most difficult for me was 'Säf, säf susa', but I really wanted to do that one. Working with it was a great learning experience, especially singing in the original (high) key. Jussi sings it one full step higher, which is really more comfortable, but I like it in the original. I think it adds to the atmosphere. The dramatic middle part is very difficult to sing without pushing. It helps me to think 'g' - the onset of a resonant 'g' gives a nice low position.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VNB9HV85Kgg&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VNB9HV85Kgg&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>After the romances, there was a short break, and then the Rodolfo/Mimi scene from La Bohème. Getting up for Che gelida manina, I had lost my position. None of my exercises for finding it again were appropriate on stage, so I just had to get on with it. The beginning was a struggle, and I tried not to think about the high C that was drawing closer. Oh, well... The only thing to do was to just go for it, and it worked! After that, I had my voice back.</div><div><br /></div><div>The encore was Summertime for Katarina, and Torna a Surriento for me. I thought she would start, and sat down with a glass of water. She waved me on, and I took a gulp of water - too quickly, and nearly choked on it. Jan-Erik started playing immediately, so I had a few bars to quit coughing. Maybe I should learn to signal that I'm ready, and not before...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MNVvaipIYrA&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MNVvaipIYrA&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>All in all, I couldn't wish for a better hobby, and to share this with my wonderful wife is just perfect.</div>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-42591707966999148092009-05-25T16:19:00.007+02:002009-05-26T18:11:26.739+02:00Technique, Expression and TeachingKatarina has now submitted her thesis. Among the many interesting findings during the research, I'd like to highlight a few pertaining to expression, technique and teaching.<div><br /></div><div>First, an observation that we thought might indicate some future research. As we were driving and listening to the Swedish radio show CD-revyn, where some notable people grade classical CDs, we started discussing how they often made the comment "very good singers, but not very interesting", as if the singers' technique was great, but they were just boring people. In our mind, good technique facilitates expression - and intent and strong expression facilitate good technique. They shouldn't be separated.</div><div><br /></div><div>I spent some time charting recent episodes of CD-revyn, trying to estimate how they graded each singer's technique and expression, respectively. I went through 26 reviews, and then calculated the correlation factors. The results were:</div><div><ul><li>Technique vs Overall Grade: 0.59</li><li>Expression vs Overall Grade: 0.48</li><li>Technique vs Expression: 0.13</li></ul>A correlation factor of ca 0.5 indicates that there's a relationship. A factor of 0.13 indicates that there is none, or a very weak relationship. This comparison obviously has several flaws, not least that the jury didn't formally grade technique and expression separately; I tried to derive these grades from their verbal justifications. This wasn't always easy.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the topic of technique and expression, I came across an essay by a student in voice pedagogy (Ida Johammar) in Gothenburg, titled (translated): "<a href="http://gupea.ub.gu.se/dspace/bitstream/2077/20026/1/gupea_2077_20026_1.pdf">Technique and expression in singing</a>". This essay moves between stating that technique and expression are one (quoting <a href="http://www.scena.org/lsm/sm10-3/owen-brown.htm">Oren Brown</a>, among others), but also notes that vocal teachers believe that both technique and expression are important, but they will accept flawed technique if only the singing is expressive - indicating that technique and expression are somehow separate. Johammar interviews four vocal teachers, who are all fairly fuzzy on the topic of expression. I got the distinct feeling that some of the teachers were mainly talking about 'indicating expression', while one teacher, at least, talked about 'colouring the voice' according to the mood.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of the things that Katarina tried to do for her Master's thesis was to describe how she had been trained previously, before re-training her voice into a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">chiaroscuro</span> voice (which was the characterization she chose for the thesis). She found this surprisingly difficult, and most attempts came out sounding as if she hadn't really been trained at all. Obviously, that wasn't the case, as she had studied with notable teachers such as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vera_Rozsa">Vera Rozsa</a>, <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/obituary-audrey-langford-1379704.html">Audrey Langford</a> and Professor Solvig Grippe. She even has detailed notes and tape recordings from many sessions, so we'll go through them later and try to build a clearer picture of their pedagogy. However, meanwhile, we came across a PhD thesis in psychology, called "<a href="http://su.diva-portal.org/smash/record.jsf?pid=diva2:194013">Becoming and being an opera singer</a>" (Maria Sandgren.) She interviewed students at the Swedish Opera Academy.</div><div><br /></div><div><div></div><blockquote><div>This research raises questions regarding the students’ experience of learning. They described their learning process as vague and quite incidental. However, the process of skill acquisition as learning for artistic development so far has not attracted researchers, possibly due to a conservative notion about talent. This notion of emphasising the influence of talent instead of learning on skill acquisition might also be prevalent in the artistic context and among educators. In this way, this notion contributes indirectly to a student’s difficulty to grasp the learning process. (page 62-63)</div></blockquote><div></div><div>Not having received any formal vocal training myself, I will refrain from drawing too many conclusions. Perhaps I should instead counter with a quote from Thomas Hemsley's excellent book, <a href="http://books.google.se/books?id=3XumjcQFlZsC&printsec=frontcover">Singing and Imagination</a>:</div><div><br /></div><div><blockquote>I am constantly disturbed by the current tendency to separate what is called 'technique' from what is called 'interpretation'. This is a concept which comes from the instrumental branch of music. In the case of singing these two things cannot be separated, for the simple reason that the only thing that stimulates the voice to action is the urge to express something; in particular, to give expression to thoughts and feelings through music. The whole object of learning to sing is to improve the connection between the emotional, poetic and musical impulses, and the body, which responds by producing appropriate sound. It is a process demanding patience and total dedication, in which a good teacher can be of the greatest help, and the wrong teacher can do untold damage. (pg 6-7)</blockquote></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-28152656444049722972009-03-06T14:38:00.003+01:002009-03-06T16:18:07.345+01:00Actual researchI haven't posted in a while, partly because I want to have something to write about, but also because I've been busy transitioning (see my <a href="http://ulf.wiger.net/weblog/2009/02/14/new-challenges/">other blog</a>).<br /><br />In fact, quite a lot is happening on the singing front as well. My wife Katarina is working on her Master's Thesis in Music Science, writing about her experiences converting from (for lack of a better term) "no-effort singing" to Chiaroscuro. The interesting thing about voice science is that you can find support for all kinds of ideas about singing technique, and our preconceptions color what we absorb from books like Stark's "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bel-Canto-History-Vocal-Pedagogy/dp/0802086144">Bel Canto - A history of vocal pedagogy</a>". Katarina tries to account for her own experience from singing, clarifying with quotes from historical and scientific sources.<br /><br />In one sense, this is a selective quoting of scientific sources, based on the author's intuition. While this can be criticized as un-scientific, one may counter that other researchers quote "too much", including theories that actually conflict with each other, without apparently noticing this. Most scientific studies on singers mainly separate trained professionals from untrained singers, or possibly separating singers by (apparent) style - a group of listeners get to rate whether a sample can be described as "classical singing", for example. Then the sample is analyzed and held up as a description of some aspect of classical singing. Much of this research is done on students, and precious little on great singers (most likely because they are expensive, busy, and perhaps not interested in getting an "objective" opinion on their vocal technique.) There are good reasons for doing this, and the approach is of course always documented as part of the research.<br /><br />British barytone and teacher Thomas Hemsley wrote in his book "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Singing-Imagination-Approach-Musical-Tradition/dp/0198790163">Singing and imagination</a>" wrote (page 10):<br /><blockquote>Some years ago I attended an international congress of voice experts in New York. Learned scientists read papers about all manner of aspects of anatomy, physiology, and acoustics. Frequently they played recordings of the voices which had been analysed in the course of the research. In every single case, my reaction was: 'But that is not singing'. I formed the impression that a high proportion of research into the human voice has been undertaken to analyse the vocal activity of people who could not sing; certainly who could not sing in what is generally recognized as the European classical tradition.</blockquote>James Stark, in <a href="http://www.med.rug.nl/pas/Conf_contrib/Stark/Stark_keynote.htm">this interesting keynote speech</a>, makes a similar claim:<br /><blockquote>Part of my task as a keynote speaker was to suggest ways in which voice science might advance. In my view, there are two principal things that we should strive for. First, we should encourage world-class singers to act as subjects in our experiments. To compare amateur singers to so-called trained singers in experimental protocols is not particularly helpful, since the word "trained" can mean so many things.</blockquote>Hopefully, Katarina's essay can be of some help to some, singers, researchers and pedagogues. The process of researching and writing it has certainly been helpful to her, even if sometimes frustrating.<br /><br />There was actually a "no-effort school of singing", pioneered by Dr. Henry Holbrook Curtis in the early 20th century. Stark mentions it in his keynote, and from what I can tell, the no-effort school of singing is very much alive today, even though it is not referred to as such. In an era where much of the singing takes place with microphones, it seems a perfectly reasonable way to sing, and much of the pedagogy I've come across today seems to have as a top priority not to do any damage. Interestingly, many of the great singers sang well into their 70s and 80s, while rather few of today's singers do. Manuel Garcia Jr seemed to be in pretty good voice <a href="http://www.harmonicorde.com/Garcia%20bicentenary%20AUSTRALIAN%20VOICE.pdf">even past the age of 90</a>, yet Curtis et al paraded singers who were supposedly damaged by Garcia's "Coup de la glotte".<br /><br />Oh, well, read Stark's keynote, or his book, if you want to know more. Highly recommended. I also recommend <a href="http://www.josephshore.com/joseph_shore_Articles_On_Singing.htm">Joseph Shore's collection of essays</a>. Shore's writing can serve as a valuable guide when reading works by Miller, Vennard, Titze et al.Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-65846166856470251412008-12-25T06:38:00.003+01:002008-12-28T18:01:13.431+01:00Blog moveI have moved my blog back to the blogspot host, and re-published it.<br />The old web address will redirect to this one, and I've also added a<br />new link, <a href="http://ulf.wiger.net/singing">http://ulf.wiger.net/singing</a>, which should always get you<br />to the right spot.Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-91068692352381865692008-12-16T10:33:00.000+01:002008-12-25T05:43:49.434+01:00Christmas concert<div>Katarina and I give a Christmas concert each year. This is a tradition we started when we lived in Stockholm, and we continued it after we had moved to Örebro. Sunday Dec 14 was our third Christmas concert in Rinkaby Church.</div><br /><div></div><div>I don't give many concerts - perhaps 2-3 each year - so it's always a special (and unfamiliar) occasion. I felt great the day before, but on the morning of the concert, I woke up with the snivels and a stiff and sore throat. The vocal cords were not affected, so I figured I'd be able to sing, but it took a good 2-3 hours of careful vocal warmups before the voice started feeling like it normally does when I get out of bed! This was obviously going to be a challenge.</div><br /><div></div>Our musicians were coming in from Stockholm on an afternoon train, so we'd have rehearsals in the church, then go to our place for a quick bite, then back to the church. Rehearsals went ok, except I started feeling a bit dizzy while singing O Helga Natt (Cantique de Noël). I started thinking that I should perhaps let Katarina sing that one. But as I got up for that particular block in the concert, I realized it was to late to ask...<br /><br /><div></div><div>A blocked or runny nose isn't so much of a problem as long as you don't rely on nasal resonance, but it <em>is</em> a problem when it starts running down into your throat. Also, worrying about the voice distracts you from your main mission: to connect with the audience. Well, what can you do?</div><div></div><br /><div>In the end, the concert went well. I decided to post two clips on youtube (since people keep asking, and they were, after all, fairly decent.) </div><div></div><br /><div>Cantique de Noël is actually a bear of a song for a tenor. There are only two ways to do it: either with full voice and dramatic quality, or ... not at all. When I say "dramatic quality", I don't mean to imply sounding like a dramatic tenor. Both my voice and my demeanor are firmly in the lyrical tenor camp, and I couldn't be a dramatic tenor if my life depended on it. But within the bounds of their natural voice, each singer is (or should be) able to draw on different "modes" - for example, light, lyrical, and dramatic. It's not a matter of singing with "different voices", but rather of subtle shifts in timbre depending on the mood of the song.<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XQBnQzY6ZiE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div> </div><br /><div>In Cantique de Noël, the tessitura and range are pretty similar to Cielo e mar from La Gioconda. The ending high Bb should come as a release, but the long low phrases and the forte passage around the passaggio which precede it can often cause problems. You need a stable, low position but with head voice firmly engaged from the very beginning (as always, one might add). At the same time, you had better not make it too dramatic. After all, you're singing about the Second Coming of Jesus - not the end of the world. It's a dramatic occasion, alright, but one that calls for rejoicing.</div><div> </div><br /><div>An added challenge for a Swedish tenor is of course that Jussi Björling's version of this song is welded into everyone's mind, and it is of course not possible to even begin to compare with his unique rendition. All you can do is to try to be yourself, stay very cool, and hope that hearing it live with another voice is after all refreshing, even compared to playing Jussi for the thousandth time on your CD player at home.</div><div> </div><br /><div>The other song, Jul, Jul, Strålande Jul, is also one that everyone knows by heart, and has heard a countless number of times. I am reasonably pleased with the way the phrases move, the legato line, and the almost fragile quality of the mezza voce.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YMN4IYKKdMg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YMN4IYKKdMg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />It's pretty obvious that I'm unaccustomed to the whole concert setting. Only more concerts can cure that.<br /><br />A warm thank you to Robert Robertsson, who came from Stockholm to play the guitar, and to Eva Johnson who played the piano. Our Christmas concerts are a wonderful opportunity to get into the right Christmas spirit, and your warm presence and musicianship make it easy.<br /></div>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-18861094312890789122008-10-12T20:33:00.000+02:002008-12-25T05:43:49.434+01:00"Not a real tenor..."I'm browsing through Juvas Marianne Liljas' doctoral thesis, "<a href="http://www.diva-portal.org/su/opus/publication.xml?id=1613">Vad månde det blifva av dessa barnen?</a>" ("What is to become of these children?"), about David Björling's vocal pedagogy. David was Jussi's father, and the dissertation is quite interesting. Actually, it's my wife, Katarina, who's borrowed it for her own research.<br /><br />One passage that caught my eye was about how David Björling, who frequently used recordings by Caruso in his teaching, also used Karl Martin Öhman as a role model.<br /><br /><blockquote>"Öhman, who studied in Milano among other places, was considered a consummate bel canto singer. Martin Öhman mastered a wide range of opera repertoire and his career was most successful abroad. It's evident from historical sources that Öhman initially had problems establishing himself on our Swedish national stage. At the Royal Opera in Stockholm, it was considered that Öhman was 'not a real tenor', since his timbre was too dark."<br /></blockquote>I found a sound clip <a href="http://www.cantabile-subito.de/Tenors/Oehman__Carl_Martin/OehmanWagner.MP3">here</a>.<br /><br />Interesting to find that the Swedish suspicion towards dramatic tenors goes so far back. Later (pg 320), Liljas describes Jussi's conflict (in terms of vocal technique) with John Forsell (artistic director of the Royal Opera) as representative of the struggle between the old influence of the French school and the national, or naturalistic, tradition. In this case, Jussi (and Öhman) rather represented the Italian school, or a cross between the Italian school and the naturalistic Nordic tradition.<br /><br />Öhman later went on to teach <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4mJyjq8JNAI">Nicolai Gedda</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0ifv3i0Xr4">Martti Talvela</a> - marvellous singers <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRYeox_yzk">both</a>.<br /><br />The thesis is quite interesting. Hopefully, I'll have time to read it thoroughly.Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-47390522792278626192008-08-29T23:28:00.000+02:002008-12-25T05:43:49.435+01:00The Great EqualizerThe last couple of years, I've given much thought to the effect of microphones on singing, and our ability to judge good singing.<br /><br />Katarina and I went to see Tosca at <a href="http://www.operapaskaret.se/page.php?w=2&pageid=10&pid=33&table=pages_under">Opera På Skäret</a>. An experience in itself, this performance also offered the rare treat of hearing a real Big Voice live. It was <a href="http://www.stuartneill.com/">Stuart Neill</a> singing Cavaradossi, and suddenly, the difference between "loud" and "big" became very clear.<br /><br />We had discount seats in the back of the auditorium, but Neill's voice could not only be heard easily - we could <span style="font-style: italic;">feel </span>his voice. This is an experience that a recording can never give you. You can learn to recognize a big voice and imagine what it would be like to hear it live, but such occasions are unfortunately rare.<br /><br />Listen for example to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QQOemm76e4">this clip</a>. You can hear that Neill has a lush beautiful voice, but the recording is unable to convey the feeling of being immersed in his sound. One of the reasons is that you want to place the mikes so that you capture the direct sound from the singers, and not let the ambient sound dominate too much. But the Big Voice becomes part of the ambient acoustics, and fills the auditorium. The recording becomes to the live performance as a photograph of a majestic scenery is to the experience of being there in person.<br /><br />I can recall many conversations where I've come to understand that most people don't know this difference when it comes to singing. Apparently, quite a few people think that opera singers wear microphones, just like in the musical theater. And I've had friends who've told of their great disappointment when some famous pop singer was unable to make herself heard without a microphone when singing solo with a choir - she who sounds like she has so much "bite" in her voice.<br /><br />With amplification, most singers sound pretty much equal.<br /><br />This is bad news for singers who have worked hard to acquire this Big Voice quality (yes, it's an acquired skill- it's just that few know how, or have the patience to acquire it). They should be wary of concerts where microphones are called for. The microphone will erase much of the advantage of the Big Voice, to the great benefit of the singer who lives by the mike.<br /><br />Katarina recently gave a concert with pianist Hans-Ove Olsson. They did both opera and jazz in the same concert. Jazz can be sung with a Big Voice - <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4wUWb8VYrM">that's how it used to be</a> - but at least here in Sweden, there are very few such singers left. I had the pleasure of hearing Katarina and Hans-Ove rehearse in the auditorium at Klockargården, Huddinge, he at the grand piano and she beside him, making the whole room vibrate with the sound of their music. The actual concert was on an outdoor scene, however. It was windy, and Hans-Ove had to make do with a quirky electrical piano. It was about as good as could be expected, but much of the magic from the rehearsal got lost somewhere between the amplification and the wind. Actually, at least when <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rr7js5xKLVE">I was turning sheets</a> on the stage (a small gazebo), I experienced the magic. That little gazebo reverberated with the sound of her voice and his playing. If only the 100 people in the audience could all have crammed inside that gazebo... Then they would have been in for a real treat.Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-60800817121224062932008-06-26T14:24:00.001+02:002009-08-12T10:40:17.135+02:00Good Dreams - Joseph ShoreI spent some time researching details about vibrato (which is perhaps an interesting story in itself), and stumbled upon <a href="http://www.josephshore.com/">Joseph Shore's website</a>. Specifically, it was the text "<a href="http://www.josephshore.com/where_have_all_the_great_singers1.htm">Where have all the great singers gone?</a>" which first caught my eye.<br /><br />It is a very interesting article. In other fields, it would be called a "position paper", I guess.<br /><br />Some parts can be seen as provocative:<br /><blockquote>Singers with a thousand different voices-- a different color for every note-- are not "interpreting" music. They are singing badly. They have no inner reason for singing; no inner perspective giving their singing impetus. They have no point of view. Having no inner guidance they "pop" it and try to "sell it." They may even use the pop singer's techniques of straight-tone onsets, uneven vibrato, and hand gestures. Usually they feel it is unnecessary for them to study the great singers in opera's history. They may even think it would be harmful for them!</blockquote>Personally, I've come to think that "they have no inner reason for singing" might not quite hit the spot. They may well have (I know I did), but their vocal technique gets in the way, and cannot convey this inner perspective. This, of course, leaves both singer and audience frustrated. And of course, when you try to pop it and sell it, whether there was an inner perspective to begin with becomes a moot point.<br /><br /><div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0RIuoetnZwM&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0RIuoetnZwM&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;">I'd like to tell an anecdote: A few days before reading Shore's article, we had had one of our gatherings here at our place, with Bengt visiting from Stockholm and spending two days teaching us and friends. It's become quite an event, and many of the "students" testify that they've been searching for years for this kind of sensation when singing. This time we had been talking about how proper singing is a <a href="http://web.ionsys.com/~remedy/FLOW%20%20.htm">flow experience</a>, in that it demands so much of your attention.<br /><br />Shortly after that, I was driving and listening to the radio. They were talking about a production of a Haydn opera at Drottningholm. They announced a sound clip from the performance, and felt that it was important to inform the listener that the soprano was playing badminton while singing her coloratura aria - and the applause from the audience came because she actually managed to hit the ball... Needless to say, hearing the aria without the benefit of also seeing the badminton match left the listener somewhat unsatisfied; it sounded a bit like she was preoccupied while singing. I couldn't help thinking that this was the exact opposite of what our own singing sessions were aiming for.</span><br /><br />Shore returns to this theme later on:<br /><blockquote>There is a term many genuine singers have for this kind of "diminutive," "stylistic, mannered" singing. It is called 'dishonest' singing! As Osborne says, "We cannot care about or believe in a note they sing or a word they say." Think about a truly great artist like Caballe, Sutherland, Horne, Corelli, Bastianini, Siepi, or Hines. There is a quality of depth or "honesty" about everything they sing. There are no tricks. No deceptions. They utilize the beautiful legato line, with the big tone, as their principle means of interpretation. They do not take the pop singers approach which removes consistent resonantal quality out of tones for the sake of individual word coloring. Word coloring is done subtly within the broader usage of legato and tonal beauty.<br />Surely this is something for singers to shoot for in their singing. Surely this is worthwhile. Surely this is "honest" singing. Singers will grow as individuals from this kind of singing. Singing will become their "yoga" in life and give them MORE to express. People WILL then care about the words they say and the notes they sing, and they will not need a microphone to keep people's attention.<br /><br />If I may offer a word here to the confused modern singer, regardless of the level of talent you as a singer may possess, you must go for the best in yourself. How can you go for less? Even if you do not have the talent to be a supremely great singer, you can learn from the art of the great singers and thereby find the best in yourself. The "art" of singing has much to offer the human spirit.<br /><br />Some singers may think that the information in this article is all very depressing. You may think you would be better off not knowing. That might be possible, but I tend to believe that is reality denial which will leave you confused and guessing. The truth is always all there is. Usually it is better to know it.<br /></blockquote>So who is this Joseph Shore anyway? Well, he was a fairly accomplished American opera singer. Why he didn't enjoy an international career is a very interesting story, told in the book <a href="ftp://camerata.mine.nu/Good%20Dreams-Book.pdf">Good Dreams</a>, which you can download from his web site. Shore stumbled onto the opera stage mainly by accident, learning some arias by listening to records in 1973, and then winning the Met Auditions two years later, with a voice that was simply stunning for a 26 year-old (not to mention one who had not been schooled). A clip from the radio broadcast can be found on youtube:<br /><div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/E1gCuz2Tdoc&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/E1gCuz2Tdoc&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><br /><br />The book is entertaining, and tells the story of his successes and big disappointments, when he was "blackballed", and branded as difficult. Shore tells of his own self-destructive moves and bad timing, but also of how he often won the audience and critics, and found supporters among some of the great singers of the last century.<br /><br />Perhaps Mr Shore's path was intended to prepare him for teaching? I kept wondering while reading the book how he would eventually become a good teacher. People who win their laurels too easily seldom become good teachers. Would Shore really be able to help others build a big voice, since he didn't have to build his own? The answer is given in the book:<br /><blockquote>When I faced my students I was considerably less secure. I had never been trained as a teacher of voice, nor had I patiently developed my own voice through long rigorous study. I had a few empirical images from my own teachers, but that was it. My first semester showed how new I was. The young, minimally talented students, just learning Caro mio Ben really benefited very little from my Bardelli sayings. I was way over their head. I was determined not to fail as a voice teacher so I went to the music library and literally read all of the books on vocal pedagogy. Luckily for me, my first semester we had many master teachers come in for 231 classes. I learned from all of them. As I read books on voice science and physiology I began to develop a way of teaching which I thought would communicate and show results. I gave the student just enough information about his physiology that would help and experimented with exercises designed to work on the involuntary muscle systems that we use in singing. I seemed to have something of a knack for it. The result was that my second semester students shot way up in Juries and my colleagues gave it kind notice.<br /><br />I saw now a different side to the world of singing. I had literally started out at the top, bypassing all of this level of education. All of the singers I had known had been great professional opera singers. What did I have to say to these kids? It happened slowly, but as I tried to teach them as my teachers had taught me, I found myself loving them. And then I realized that singing is far more than a contest to the top of the world. Singing is a human experience which everyone has a right to do. Most of my students did not have much talent if you looked at them the way I had been looking at singers in New York. They would graduate and then go out and teach public school music. A few would go on to graduate school and teach in College. I had none that could possibly reach entrance level professional. Was that a waste of time? No. I changed in Greensboro. Love for my students changed me and I continued my reading and my research to try to develop my personal way of teaching voice.</blockquote><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:85%;">It is so easy for us to get hooked on the idea of becoming famous; if we don't get that world career, we are failures, and we couldn't have been much good to begin with. This is something I've had to struggle with personally from time to time: I was expected to have a fine athletic career, and believe that I had enough talent to aim for an Olympic final. But talent is not everything - not even talent and ambition. You also need to stay clear of injuries, have good advisors, and perhaps also a fair bit of luck. I may have had enough talent; I probably didn't want it badly enough, and I didn't stay clear of injuries. It took me several years to get over the feeling that I had wasted a great opportunity. I was/am also very good with computers. I've enjoyed quite a good career in programming, and have received some international recognition, but I can't help feeling that I'm only putting half a heart into it - if you want to become really great at something, that won't do. I've also thought for many years that I could have been a successful singer (not only because there aren't that many tall tenors around), but I've always had this thing about being judged on subjective grounds. This kept me from singing in public for many years. With age, I've come to realize that my own particular gift is to see the connecting patterns, and it is this mindset that, more than anything, keeps me from single-mindedly pursuing any specialized field. Successes and failures are in themselves neither good nor bad. It's how they shape us that matters.</span><br /><br />Perhaps it is really a shame that Joseph Shore didn't receive international recognition as an opera singer. On the other hand, it seems as if the mistakes and injustices, as well as his initial career as a scholar and the successes he did enjoy after all, all served to make him a fine teacher.<br /><br />Joseph Shore has a great story to tell. I'm sure he also has a lot to teach.<br /><br /><div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XlpsJp1oETw&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XlpsJp1oETw&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-12352464541698909702007-12-28T13:42:00.000+01:002008-12-25T05:43:49.435+01:00Function of the Singing Voice<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/Sundberg-house.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; width: 200px; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/Sundberg-house.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Last Fall, I attended a course, "Function of the Singing Voice", graciously hosted by Prof. Johan Sundberg and his wife, Dr Ulla Sundberg (phonetics & linguistics) at their lovely Summer home south of Stockholm.<br /><p>It was a very interesting week, full of lectures and experiments. We could easily have spent another week doing more experiments, but I guess I'll have to sign up for the research program for that...</p>Since I'm an engineer by training and profession, this approach to singing feels absolutely natural, and I am convinced that a more systematic understanding of the science behind singing only helps me become a better singer.<br /><br />Here are a few of my own observations from the course:<br /><br />First of all, I felt that maestro Bengt has taught me well. :-)<br /><br />In general, it was great fun to get an introduction to what we can describe scientifically about the voice. There are many things which we cannot easily measure, and there are obvious problems with just about all experimental setups. Still, there is a wealth of extremely useful knowledge, which I think every singer could benefit from. How to shape vowels (and the inherent problem for sopranos - see below), is a very obvious example.<br /><br />(I found some slides <a href="http://www.linguistics.ucla.edu/people/keating/labseminar.ppt">here</a> that seem to be based on Sundberg's material, for reference.)<br /><br />The singer's formant is of great importance for male classical singers. The main reason is that it helps the singer to be heard above an orchestra. For rock and musical singers, it offers no such benefits, as the music usually has a different frequency spectrum, and the singers rely on amplification to make themselves heard. Sopranos cannot produce much of a singer's formant, but don't strictly need to, as they make themselves heard anyway.<br /><br />A number of different techniques exist for creating a singer's formant, e.g. raising your tongue towards the palate will help modify the third formant (but of course also affect articulation), but the "natural" way of producing it is by lowering the larynx and enlarging the ventricle (<a href="http://www.ncvs.org/ncvs/info/singers/piriform.pdf">epilarynx resonator</a>) above the larynx. This is also described pretty well <a href="http://www.music.unt.edu/bio/saustinppt/SessionVInertiveReactance.ppt">here</a>.<br /><br />The obvious main challenge for sopranos is making sure that the fundamental frequency, f0, doesn't rise above the first formant, f1. This is called "<a href="http://www.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/soprane.html">resonance tuning</a>"), and one of the main techniques is raising f1 by increasing the jaw opening. Essentially, sopranos have little chance of getting the vowels right in their upper range, mainly because the fundamental frequency is well above the frequencies that shape the vowel sounds, and the formants which normally shape the vowels must be kept above the fundamental frequency for a pleasant sound.<br /><br />The course helped clarify my understanding of how vowels are shaped, which has helped me in my practice (making me use the tongue more deliberately for articulation), and the notion of "<a href="http://www.speech.kth.se/prod/publications/files/qpsr/1988/1988_29_2-3_083-091.pdf">tracheal pull</a>" has helped me control air pressure and timbre - for example by noting that I can help the tracheal pull not only by lowering the diaphragm, but also by expanding or raising the chest, thereby either allowing the lungs to expand outward, or simply increasing the vertical room by "raising the ceiling", rather than "lowering the floor".<br /><br />I did note with some disappointment, however, that there exist no good techniques for understanding the higher formants (it was only stated that they are generated in the larynx, and affect the "personality" of the voice). I noted with interest slides 29-32 from <a href="http://www.music.unt.edu/bio/austinarticulation05.ppt">these seminar slides</a>, where the spectral analysis charts for Corelli and Pavarotti show some similarity, as do the charts of Bjoerling and Domingo. I will draw no further conclusions.<br /><br />Overall, it was a wonderful week, with great lectures, wonderful food, interesting labs and very good company.Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-31181025594926551832007-03-13T10:52:00.001+01:002009-08-12T09:50:36.234+02:00Into the depths...<p>I turned 40 recently, and true to our tradition,<br />we invited friends and gave a concert.</p><br /><br /><p>I gave myself the opportunity to sing a passage out<br />of L'Elisir D'amore: the Nemorino/Dulcamara duet<br />(Voglio dire...), followed by the Nemorino/Adina duet<br />(Caro elisir...), followed by the Belcore/Nemorino/Adina<br />trio (Tran tran tran...)</p><br /><br /><a href="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/vogliodire1-717868.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/vogliodire1-706895.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><p>My wonderful wife, Katarina sang the part of Adina, of course.<br />Peter Kajlinger did both Dulcamara and Belcore.<br />It was my<br />first time singing with Peter, and it was truly a joy. He has an<br />air of confidence and generosity about him, and he's a gifted<br />comedian as well as a consummate professional.</p><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/cielo1-716488.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/cielo1-712109.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><p>Coach Bengt made a valiant effort to make it despite first<br />attending an audition in Stockholm.<br />He arrived just in time<br />to fire off his contributions in rapid succession:<br />the Edgardo/Lucia duet (Verranno a te...), Cielo e mar,<br />and the Cavaradossi/Tosca duet (Mario, mario...), before<br />he was allowed to sit down and have a glass of wine.<br />He also helped spice up the party with his ukelele...</p><br /><br /><br /><p>Bengt's singing reminds me of Franco Corelli.</p><br /><br /><a href="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/tosca1-742387.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/tosca1-739927.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><p>Our Tosca was Maria Sloth, who has traveled a rocky road ever since<br />she was hailed as "the next Birgit Nilsson" at school.<br />She resolved the pressure by simply not singing at all for the longest<br />time, but a few years ago, she made a tentative comeback (in our<br />living room, if I recall...) She has now found her way back to her<br />first teacher (Jacqueline Delman), and has found her voice<br />again, after more than 20 years.</p><br /><br /><p>Maria is a true dramatic soprano. Managing a dramatic voice is<br />no picnic (not that I would know...), but when it works, it's truly<br />something to experience. Thanks, Maria, for a wonderful<br />performance.</p><p><br /><br /><a href="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/caroelisir2-795691.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/caroelisir2-787246.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></p><p>Katarina pulled off being a great hostess, singing Adina, Lucia<br />and the Bell Song from Lakmé. A perfect Birthday gift, and a<br />wonderful evening.</p><br /><br /><a href="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/caroelisir1-777199.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://ulf.wiger.net/images/blogspot/caroelisir1-774968.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><p>As for my own performance, I was actually quite pleased.<br />The acting was mostly acceptable, and I did attempt to go<br />all out (something that I've had trouble with, as most<br />amateurs do). The voice sounded stable and well grounded,<br />although the singer's formant can be improved. The legato<br />line was good.</p><br /><br /><p>A few weeks later I had a very interesting conversation<br />with <a href="http://www.speech.kth.se/music/staff/pjohan.html">Prof Johan Sundberg </a>at the Dept of Speech, Music<br />and Hearing at KTH. Prof Sundberg's theoretical depth<br />is truly impressive, and just chatting with him for a couple<br />of hours taught me a great deal. Not that I can easily<br />account for what, exactly, but the combination of his<br />comments, the stuff that Bengt has been telling me for<br />years, and bits and pieces I've picked up elsewhere,<br />inspired me to go home and try a few things...</p><br /><br /><p>One item of discussion was a picture from Manén's<br />"Bel canto" book, showing a closed larynx. The picture<br />looked like the larynx was in a high position (not very<br />interesting from a singing perspective), but the text<br />indicated that it was in a low position. Closing the false<br />vocal cords, as indicated by the picture, in a low position<br />is not easy, apparently. Without an X-ray machine at<br />home, it's difficult to conduct your own experiments,<br />obviously...</p><br /><br /><p>But Manén mentions a "click" sound, "caused by ... a clash<br />of air rushing in from above and below the larynx"<br />(according to Manén - I can't judge whether this is a<br />correct description). I set out to attempt to reproduce<br />this effect. It took two days of hard work, and significantly<br />more downward pull of the larynx than I'm used to,<br />combined with a kind of squeezing (I imagined the larynx<br />as a "V", which needs to be squeezed together into an "I",<br />partly inspired by a drawing that Prof Sundberg made<br />during our conversation). After a while, I could do the<br />exercise suggested by Manén: a slow staccato scale<br />(apparently, from "Studio di canto", by A. Busti),<br />producing that faint "click" between each note, as the<br />larynx closes and re-opens. I don't know whether this<br />proves anything, but the tangible effect was a marked<br />improvement in my singer's formant (more "ringing",<br />and more power - basically, everything improved, as<br />far as I can tell; Katarina seems to agree).</p><br /><br /><p>This seems to be in line with Sundberg's observation<br />that the singers formant is formed in the larynx, and with<br />Bengt's insisting that the overtones are not produced<br />the way you'd expect. Not that I doubted this, but it's<br />always good to be able to internalise this knowledge,<br />so that your body agrees as well.</p><br /><br /><p>The added difficulty is exerting a significant downward<br />pull on the larynx while "freeing" the muscles shaping<br />the upper air passages. I would not have been able to<br />do this a year ago (much less four years ago, before I<br />started taking lessons for Bengt), even if I had<br />understood that it were needed for the kind of<br />singing that I aspired to.</p><br /><br /><p>I've been resting a few days now, to avoid over-excerting<br />myself. It's difficult, since I want to keep exploring this<br />newfound sensation. I'm looking forward to many more<br />years of continued discovery. This is obviously only the<br />beginning.</p>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-65739857531142780252007-02-02T11:13:00.000+01:002008-12-25T05:43:49.435+01:00charting emotional contentIt seems as if my thoughts on emotional indicators have been<br />answered scientifically long before I started thinking them.<br />Not surprising - the trick for a layman is of course to find all<br />the research. Much of it is not available via the web, unless<br />you belong to a participating research institution. If I were<br />to park myself in a library, I might have better luck...<br /><br />However, I did find this:<br /><a href="http://www.zainea.com/emotional.htm">Emotional Expression Code in Opera and Lied Singing</a><br /><br />(Presented by Dr. Eliezer Rapoport at the 1996 Israel<br />Musicological Society Annual Meeting)<br /><br />The author has run computer analyses of recordings<br />of great artists: Callas, Caballe, Margaret Price, Pavarotti,<br />Kraus, et al, and has performed a systematic breakdown<br />of how these singers vary their voice and musical expression<br />in order to express appropriate emotions. The article lists<br />some 50 different indicators. I have yet to read it thoroughly,<br />but here is an extract:<br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0.2in; text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0.2in; text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB">A higher degree in excitement than in the C or R modes is achieved by introducing a third element: pitch transition; a gradual increase in pitch in one or two stages from the onset to the sustained stage, mostly practiced by tenors. This is not</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="GramE"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB">singing</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"> off-tune but is a deliberate way of shaping the tone, endowing it with some extra qualities: openness, brightness, life, timbre embellishment, and expressiveness. These are the qualities that bel canto tenors use in expressing love, exhilaration and happiness. (The tenor is the hero and the lover in Italian operas). T modes are perceived as a timbre effect. After becoming aware of it the trained listener can discern this gradual transition as a pitch effect. Figure 5 displays an example of the T1 mode taken from the aria "La rivedra nell'estasi..." from <span class="GramE">Un</span> Ballo in Maschera by Verdi, sung by Luciano Pavarotti, expressing love (marked in Performance<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-US"><o:p>[...] </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> <img src="http://www.zainea.com/em5.gif" border="0" height="361" width="467" /></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB">Score No. 3). The aria "De miei bollenti spiriti" from La Traviata by Verdi, and the preceding recitative, express great happiness. Pavarotti and Alfredo Kraus use the T1 and T2 modes extensively in this aria. Further on in the aria at the climax of happiness, the phrase "io vivo quasi in ciel" is repeated five times, each time leading to a climax - sung by Kraus in the T1 mode.</span></blockquote><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"></span>This sort of thing appeals to my engineering brain. (-:<br /><br />A technocratic, optimistic spin on this might be that, given<br />such wonderful analysis tools, and the ability to describe<br />exactly what is going on in these wonderful performances,<br />we should be able to resurrect, and perhaps even improve<br />the old magic.<br /><br />The only remaining problem is of course to attract singers<br />that are talented enough, and devoted enough, to subject<br />themselves to the years of training that will still be required.<br /><br />(Actually, I think that isn't a problem, because lots of talented<br />and devoted singers do this today. As with many other fields,<br />the trick is to integrate research into the teaching and wide<br />practice of the art. Most singers I know will probably be<br />slightly put off by discussions on Fast Fourier Transforms,<br />vowel formants, vibrato periods and unit pulses...)Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-74626835870652615452007-01-30T10:36:00.000+01:002008-12-25T05:43:49.436+01:00apologies to RSS subscribersI've been republishing the last posts several times.<br/>If anyone is subscribing to this blog, I apologize.<br/><br/>I've switched to the new Blogger version, and it<br/>was playing tricks on me. The word wrap wasn't<br/>working right, and while the preview looked okay,<br/>the published version looked horrible.<br/><br/>... at least using the Opera web browser, but honestly,<br/>when writing a blog on Bel canto, using another browser<br/>is surely blasphemy?<br/>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-68809833025481215202007-01-13T23:50:00.000+01:002008-12-25T05:43:49.436+01:00neural responseI've been out fishing lately.<br/><br/>I started thinking when listening to a concert recently. It was<br/> an accomplished opera singer, who performed, by all accounts,<br/> very well. I was quite pleased that I could actually enjoy myself, <br/>and not just analyse her singing to death. (:<br/><br/>However, there was time for some analysis too. I couldn't help<br/>noticing how she sang with basically the same timbre<br/>throughout. This is not unusual. It is what most singers seem to <br/>do.<br/><br/>She used a fairly wide range of "indicators" to signal emotion, <br/>and we, attentive listeners, were eager to comply and respond<br/>with the appropriate emotion. I wouldn't have reacted to this <br/>a few years ago, but having realised how much a singer can <br/>actually vary his/her vocal colour, you can't help not longing<br/>to hear that on stage. <br/><br/>Actually, the thinking started long before this. A couple of years <br/>ago, I listened to a live rendition of "Nessun dorma", with a <br/>reasonably skilled tenor. His middle range was uninteresting, <br/>though, which obviously becomes problematic in "Nessun <br/>dorma". To exaggerate a bit, he stumbled through the aria and<br/> made a nice recovery on the high notes. To my surprise, my <br/>friends hadn't noticed his relative failure in the 90% of the <br/>aria that doesn't consist of "money notes". I guess that's why <br/>they call them "money notes" - if a tenor can only deliver the <br/>high Cs, all is forgiven (in Nessun dorma, it's a H). <br/><br/>So here's the theory. Nessun dorma is all about anticipation, <br/>but since everyone in the audience is so full of anticipation of <br/>that last high H, the singer can probably get away with just<br/>indicating the rest of the song. After all, none of it is real. <br/>The artist builds an illusion, and we, the audience fill in the <br/>blanks.<br/><br/>So why go through all that trouble to deliver real emotion, <br/>when it's obviously possible to just indicate, and let the <br/>audience do the work? Shouldn't there be a difference, after all?<br/><br/>I started googling for neurological papers to find out if we are <br/>actually able to detect what goes on in the brain when e.g.<br/>listening to singing.<br/><br/>I turns out that we can - almost.<br/><br/><a href="http://www.zlab.mcgill.ca/home.html">Robert Zatorre</a> in Montrëal seems to be on the forefront of <br/>neurological studies related to music. One paper has the <br/>impressive title<br/> <br/>"<a href="http://www.zlab.mcgill.ca/docs/Blood_et_al_1999.pdf">Emotional responses to pleasant and unpleasant music correlate with activity in paralimbic brain regions</a>". <br/><br/>Unfortunately for me, trying to prove my theory, we seem to <br/>have some way to go before we fully understand how the brain <br/>processes emotional content in music.<br/><br/>It turns out that listening to music triggers a lot more brain <br/>activity than does e.g. speech. Several different parts of the <br/>brain (even the "reptile brain") are engaged, and the result <br/>is collated into a unified experience. <br/><br/>This paper does claim to support the hypothesis that "<i>there <br/>may be a dissociation between perceptual and emotional <br/>responses to music</i>".<br/><br/>Furthermore, the paper states that "<i>it is possible that music <br/>that induces different types of emotions would recruit <br/>different neural substrates. This may be especially likely <br/>if emotion is elicited through memory or association, <br/>rather than spontaneously</i>."<br/><br/>That last bit seemed to relate to what I was digging for. I was <br/>thinking that if an artist uses physical or vocal "gestures" <br/>to indicate to the audience what they should feel, this may <br/>have the effect that the audience relates to the music in a <br/>slightly more intellectual way, having to draw on their <br/>memory for the proper understanding of the gestures. <br/><br/>Perhaps other components in the music speak directly to <br/>our more intuitive systems, triggering a direct emotional <br/>response which we will have great difficulty suppressing? <br/><br/>Of course, tons of complications arise if one would try to <br/>measure this in a scientific study.<br/><br/>Of course, it could be that our willingness to be swept away by <br/>the artist is the most important factor in enjoying a musical <br/>performance. Perhaps our brains are clever enough to <br/>provide us with the necessary emotions if we just don't get <br/>in its way? Call me stubborn, but I don't think that's the <br/>whole truth. <br/>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-74147864000240882862007-01-11T18:38:00.002+01:002009-08-12T09:14:20.214+02:00Something to look forward toMy beloved wife chastised me for writing that I didn't have much<br />to look forward to (<a href="http://uwiger.blogspot.com/2006/08/road-to-bel-canto.html">here</a>). I admit that that was only partly true.<br />I meant that I didn't have anything like a full-scale production in<br />front of me.<br /><br />A few fun things have happened, though.<br /><br />Katarina and I were engaged to sing on a Tallinn cruise. I was<br />really supposed to ride along, but since we enjoy singing, we<br />promptly decided that I should be part of the program. Such<br />"coups" are always a bit scary, since they can backfire if the<br />customer ends up thinking that I didn't contribute to the<br />enjoyment. Or maybe that's just me thinking that I'm still<br />not good enough for professional engagements... As it was,<br />I only participated in a duet ("Rosen in Tirol" by Zeller) and<br />one aria ("O Paradis", by Meyerbeer). It went quite well,<br />though, and I felt like a real pro... almost.<br /><br />The next occasion was our traditional Christmas concert,<br />now in a new church (since we have moved). It was well<br />visited, and people seemed pleased. I sang some Christmas<br />hymns, and some arias from Händel's Messiah (Comfort ye<br />and Every Valley). We recorded it, and listening to the<br />tape, I was horrified! I was singing out of tune on several<br />occasions. My wife insisted that I wasn't, and she has a<br />good ear...<br /><br />Enter Lucy Manén's Bel canto book. She observes (pg 50) that<br /><blockquote>The high harmonics of the imposto mechanism, not only<br />give to all the vocal registers the beauty and brilliance<br />of Bel Canto; they also ensure that the voice will sound<br />in tune to a distant listener (without adequate brilliance,<br />a distant voice will often sound flat even when, heard<br />from near by, the notes seem correctly pitched).</blockquote><br />When I checked the parts of the tape where I recalled emphasizing<br />the higher harmonics, the voice didn't sound flat. I had focused too<br />much on creating a full voice, and forgetting about the brilliance.<br />Oh, well. Let's hope the one's in the back didn't have such good<br />ears...<br /><br />(If you want to know what imposto is, read the book, or go see<br />your local Bel Canto teacher.)<br /><br />Later, Katarina and I gave a recital in Oxelösund - Church coffee<br />for the senior members of the congregation. Katarina grew up in<br />Oxelösund, so she has a tendency to sell out when she visits. So<br />it was this time too. The church was full and we had a great<br />time. I sang Ah, fuyez... from Manon - a terribly difficult aria,<br />but I never did have the good sense to go for the easy wins.<br />The challenge with Ah, Fuyez is that you have to be able to<br />express several different and conflicting emotions. De Grieux<br />prays to be rid of the obsession with Manon, and curses the<br />world and his misfortune, but really, he doesn't want anything<br />other than to be with her - but he does sincerely long for the<br />peace of God too, and he keeps shifting in and out of these<br />emotions. To add some complexity, it's in French, which I<br />don't know, and the tessitura is terribly high.<br /><br />Bel canto to the rescue. If you're able to produce the sound<br />with a lowered larynx, whatever you feel will be strangely<br />amplified (because the emotional colorings of the voice<br />emanate from there.) So if you take the time to really<br />understand what you're singing, you will be able to portray<br />the proper emotions (obviously there is more to a great<br />interpretation than that, but just the basics will get you<br />surprisingly far). The 'imposto' thingy helps anchor the high<br />voice especially, which saves you when De Grieux first<br />utters his "ah fuyez" in a piano G. Also, you can bring on<br />the crying in the <i>ff</i> exclamations - as long as you keep your<br />position and let the body provide (as Bengt keeps telling me).<br /><br />The truly amazing feeling is that you can go all out, both with voice and emotion, as long as you keep directing the force the right way.<br /><br />For fun, I later decided to try singing it unsupported (actually,<br />still much more supported than I ever sang before I went to<br />Bengt three years ago). I found that I could produce a cool-<br />sounding timbre, and sing loudly enough, but when trying to<br />convey emotions, the voice suddenly felt like a wall between<br />me and the (imaginary) audience. I started realising why many<br />singers are left with just varying the volume, phrasing and<br />attack. What else can you do?<br /><br />I decided to quit experimenting and return to practising the<br />real thing. I don't master it well enough to goof around.<br /><br />Then we did some Nemorino/Adina, "Caro Elisir". Fun stuff.<br />I need to find more opportunities to sing on stage.Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-6587013578722089042006-12-18T12:13:00.000+01:002008-12-25T05:43:49.436+01:00CorelliRe-reading my posts, I felt that I should give more credit to Franco Corelli. I will admit that I hadn't listened to him much, except for an old recording of "La Forza del destino", which is unfortunately of such poor technical quality that it is difficult to judge the man's voice (the wild cheers from the audience do give an indication that there was something there that got lost in the recording...)<br/><br/>Enter <a href="http://www.youtube.com">youtube.com</a>. This sesspool of copyright violations is heaven for opera lovers who look for inspiration. I searched on Corelli and found gold. The man was unbelievable! Those rumours I had heard about him ruining his voice with the "lowered larynx technique"... Hah! Some clips from 1973, with a 52 year-old Corelli singing Andrea Chenier should certainly put those rumours to rest.<br/><br/>Here are some of the clips I found:<br/><br/><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOpN0tf_x4g">Come un bel di di maggio (Andrea Chenier - Correlli 52 years old)</a><br/><br/><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QeBjOAow0E">Un dì all'azurro spazio (Andrea Chenier)</a><br/><br/><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TColIyZLpGE">Non piangere Liu (Turandot)</a><br/><br/><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yL-DOyxAA9c">Ch'ella mi creda (La fanciulla del West, Tokyo in 1971, I think)</a><br/><br/><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zfN7LMQfua8">Forza del destino, act 4, duet with Ettore Bastianini</a><br/><br/><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9jAI0EwBzY&mode=related&search=">Forza del destino, act 1, duet with Renata Tebaldi</a><br/><br/><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psoV9uojWz0">Torna il Sorrento (looks like a 70s TV production)</a><br/> <br/><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksk17puzMPo&mode=related&search=">O paese d' 'o sole (old TV show, it seems. A young Corelli)<br/><br/></a><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13OB9Xaotl8"></a>Enjoy.<br/><style></style>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-13986688591145115712006-08-24T16:20:00.000+02:002018-06-20T10:39:34.861+02:00The 78s pingBeing a tenor and trying to learn proper (as in Bel Canto) singing, brings its own special challenges.<br /><br />The tenor sound was pretty much defined by the giants of old: Caruso, Gigli, Corelli, Björling (for us Swedes), but do we really know now what they sounded like?<br /><br />I've developed my own little theory called "the 78s ping". Many of the recordings of Caruso were made with him singing straight into a <a href="http://www.tinfoil.com/record.htm">wodden funnel</a>, the sound being engraved through mechanical coupling onto a wax-coated cylinder. It goes without saying that the frequency response was less than stellar. It's no accident that tenors were popular in those early years of recordings, because the "<a href="http://www.ncvs.org/ncvs/tutorials/voiceprod/tutorial/singer.html">singer's formant</a>" at ca 3 KHz, so pronounced in high operatic voices, came through nice and clear. It's tempting to think that that's all there was to the great tenor voice. Yet we know that Caruso could even sing basso repertoire (legend has it he even did it impromptu during a performance, when the basso lost his voice.) Clearly, the man must have had a huge voice. (update: listen to a 78s recording of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_sJAZcFDw4">Sollene in quest'ora</a> from La Forza del Destino - it gives you a hint as to why baritones where not the great recording stars of this era.)<br /><br />Jussi Björling was a lyrical tenor, but his recordings span a fairly wide range of technology. Compare e.g. "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dF1O8FGXvc"><span>Säv, säv, susa</span></a>" from 1940 with <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPuwvTZLPxI">the same song</a> from 1959. Jussi's voice was considered to have pretty much reached maturity around 1940, so the most dramatic difference between the two samples is the recording technology. "Sånger på svenska" from 1959 was one of the first Hi-fi stereo recordings in Sweden, and it gives the startling revelation that Jussi's voice was really much fuller than earlier recordings were able to portray.<br /><br />Now we have a whole generation of singers trying to sound like the great tenors did on the 78s (ok, exaggerating a little...) The easy way to do this is to rely heavily on head voice, emphasizing the resonance of the nasal cavities. This also gives the best feedback. The sound can also be significantly amplified using various tricks. The problem with this is that the "singer's formant" is generated by the larynx, as the result of significant "sub-glottal" pressure - not in the nasal cavities. The way to get there is to push the diaphragm roughly as far as it will go, lower the larynx, raising the soft palate, etc. etc.<br /><br />Sound hard? Well it is, and it isn't. Anyone can do this - it's pretty much exactly what we do when we throw up. It's doing it in a controlled way <span>while singing</span> that requires some practice. It's also difficult to do it on your own, because while practising, you will not necessarily feel that your voice is improving. You will feel more like a baritone than a tenor, or like an alto rather than a soprano.<br /><br />Once you learn how to produce a tone with a fully lowered diaphragm (etc), you will be able to find your way to a powerful singer's formant. It will sound to you as a loud "ringing noice". You may not find this pleasant ("Forget all about taking pleasure in your own voice", Bengt Nordfors told me.) To others, it may sound like a silver lining on an otherwise full voice.<br /><br />So why go through all the trouble if a tenor sound can be faked? Well, for one thing, it's a healthier way to sing, and your vocal cords will thank you for it. But also, you will be able to make use of "exclamatory vowels" - sounds that are also shaped in the larynx, and which convey emotions in a primitive and universally understood way. In short, your voice will become more interesting, more moving, and able to portray real emotions.<br /><br />So can you tell who's faking it? In tenors, you usually can. Watch the larynx. It should be lowered while singing, and it should pretty much stay there. Now, "faking" may be a bit harsh. The vast majority of singers are certainly most cincere and try their best to express something. What I mean is that they have not learned to properly ground their voices. No surprise - it takes about 5 years to learn proper singing technique, and in our day and age, that's too long.<br /><br />Also, a warning: if you start searching for true Bel Canto, chances are that you will be disappointed with many singers that you previously thought were great. You may be better off not caring about it and continue to enjoy the art of opera such as it is, today.<br /><br />Several of the great tenors were initially barytones. Today, if we hear someone singing tenor repertoire with a decidedly baritonal quality, we will be confused. "He's not a tenor", we will exclaim (even if he's hitting the high Cs effortlessly.) We want that "78s ping", and we want to be able to label people.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.grandi-tenori.com/tenors/giacomini.php">Giuseppe Giacomini</a> is a tenor with an amazingly baritonal voice. So much so that it becomes problematic. I've heard productions were he sounds more baritonal than the barytone he's playing against (update: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XJnU-aCa1s">here's one</a> where it actually works out - Giacomini is the one lying down). It is simply difficult to find a whole cast of such singers. While I think Giacomini is great, he's not my own ideal (I'm more of a lyrical tenor.) I tend to listen to <a href="http://www.fritz-wunderlich-ges.com/">Fritz Wunderlich</a> for inspiration (update: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=px0H0rD2L2E">F.W. as Tamino</a>).<style>i{content: normal !important}</style>Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8937924698180840217.post-89811936999534826082006-08-24T11:47:00.000+02:002008-12-25T05:43:49.437+01:00The road to Bel CantoThis is my main hobby - passion, even. Some might call it an obsession.<br /><br />My parents were latent musicians, but didn't do much do develop their talent, but they did sing, play the guitar and piano quite a lot when we were kids.<br /><br />My grandfather was a shoemaker and a fiddler (playing the fiddle in that part of the country back then seems to have been what Nintendo is for today's youngsters.) He is "famous" for having written "Skomakar Wigers polska", which is on the standard folk music repertoire today.<br /><br />My brother, Torbjörn, started playing the guitar, and became quite good at it. He eventually had to choose between playing professionally and going for an MSEE, and chose engineering. At the time, he played in the band Joy's Toys and had just landed a record contract. Among the other members of the band were drummer/singer <a href="http://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jan_Johansen">Jan Johansen</a> and keyboardist/singer <a href="http://www.naxos.com/artistinfo/6941.htm">Göran Eliasson</a>, who both went on to rather successful careers.<br /><br />I spent a very short time in the <a href="http://www.stockholmsgosskor.com/">Stockholm Boy's Choir</a> in 2nd grade, sang in the High School choir, and later joined <a href="http://www.satbmusic.com/nkkaf/asp/index.asp">Nicolai Chamber Choir</a>, where I stayed some 13 years. I sang in the Royal Philharmonic Choir for a year, just before it was closed down. After that, I decided to focus on singing solo.<br /><br />My first singing teacher was actually Siw Hellgren in High School. The most memorable advice she gave me was: "if you don't think it's beautiful, noone else will either." Siw is quite a character, and did a great job conveying the wonders of classical music and opera to her students.<br /><br />My second teacher was Margareta Ljunggren. She was very down to earth and helped me realise that singing wasn't such a big deal. Unfortunately, I had also started realising that my real passion was opera, and that wasn't Margareta's thing. All in all, though, it was a very fruitful couple of years.<br /><br />In 1998, I met <a href="http://www.katarina-pilotti.com">Katarina Pilotti</a>. We were engaged two weeks later, and married in 1999. We found that we much enjoyed singing together, and I suddenly had an opportunity to meet professional singers and musicians on a fairly regular basis. Bengt Nordfors, Peter Kajlinger, Bo Wannefors, Michael Engström, and others, became household names and taught me a great deal. We arranged musical evenings at our house, and invited friends and relatives.<br /><br />When Katarina turned 40, she gave a concert together with friends and colleagues in our local church. The singers were Katarina, <a href="http://www.varmlandsoperan.se/page.asp?id=489">Kristina Hammarström</a>, <a href="http://www.muc.a.se/m-ac-merhammar.html">Ann Charlotte Merhammar</a>, <a href="http://www.bach-cantatas.com/Bio/Lander-Thomas.htm">Thomas Lander</a>, Bengt Gustafsson... and I. Katarina and I did the whole scene from La Boheme where Rodolpho meets Mimi. I thought Bo Wannefors and I were in agreement to lower the aria "Che gelida manina" a seminote in order to avoid the high C, but for one reason or other, it didn't happen. As I approached the H (or so I thought), I thought to myself "it's a good thing we lowered it". All went well. "The only thing you have to fear is fear itself", as I later came to learn. I also got to sing a duet with Thomas Lander - I have a tendency to agree to things and only later consider what I'm getting myself into. But Thomas is a very relaxed and generous person, and it all went well. I felt that I had stepped up to a higher level.<br /><br />Bengt Nordfors sat in the audience and afterwards murmured that I should come to his place at Ingarö and learn a thing or two. It took a few years before I took him up on the offer. I guess I wasn't ready...<br /><br />Bengt Nordfors is an outstanding teacher. He opened my eyes to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bel_canto">Bel Canto</a>, and after three years of hard work (Bengt would say "goofing around"), I think I'm beginning to grasp the basics of voice production. Bengt studied with Berle Rosenberg, who studied with <a href="http://www.grandi-tenori.com/tenors/bergonzi.php">Carlo Bergonzi</a>. Such is the genealogy.<br /><br />The first project with Bengt was in 2003-4, preparing for <a href="http://www.operavox.se/produktioner/2004_barberaren.html">The Barber of Seville</a>, with <a href="http://www.operavox.se/">OperaVox</a> (where I had previously had small parts in Die Fledermaus and Carmen.) In fact, I went to Bengt two weeks before the auditions, when I realized I didn't have the technique necessary to sing the part of Count Almaviva. After a two-week crash course, I was able to fight my way through "Ecco ridente", and actually got the part. The following year was spent in intense preparations, trying to develop the technique and stamina required to get through the whole opera (actually, all five performances). Again, it went well. I visited Bengt hours before each performance to get hold of my voice. Each visit turned into a singing lesson, the result of which was to reveal itself on stage. A bit scary, but extremely productive. As Count Almaviva is on stage singing and acting for the better part of the opera, I also had to learn a lot about how to conduct myself on stage.<br /><br />That was the starting point. I had begun to suspect what "connection" was really about. In the years since then, I feel that I have begun to develop a healthy "basic sound", to the point where I can at least begin to work on nuances without losing my technique. This may not seem as much, but I'll give my interpretation of what's involved in later posts.<br /><br />Currently, I have no production or concert to look forward to. I will just keep singing to myself, and visit Bengt every now and then.Ulf Wigerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14415790008413375634noreply@blogger.com0