Barbara Honn was my teacher's teacher. She was on the faculty at the Cincinnati Conservatory, where she taught Bill Lavonis when he was a doctoral student. Bill was my voice teacher as I worked toward my master's degree at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Honn was widely revered as one of the great teachers of her generation right up until her death in 2023 at age 79.
The latest Journal of Singing published an article of remembrance, including statements about Honn from her students and colleagues. One of the comments that caught my attention was by Alison Acord, one of Honn's former students who is now a professor of voice at Miami University in Ohio:
"Another favored expression of Barbara's was 'sing the process, not the product.' She understood that most singers try to create an 'impressive' sound that is not possible because the sound in the room is so different from the sound inside the singer, even for experienced professionals. The phrase has now taken on another meaning. It's a lot like hearing 'enjoy the journey of life rather than the destination.'"
Alison Acord in "Remembering Barbara Honn: Reflections from Her Students and Colleagues," ed. Matthew Hoch, Journal of Singing 81, No. 3 (Jan/Feb 2025): 296.
I've blogged before about process vs. product, so I appreciate Prof. Acord's perspective.
The performing arts are unique among the creative arts. For those who write novels, paint pictures, or create sculptures, their finished works can live on and be observed in exactly the same way as when they were created. A statue can be placed on a shelf or in a museum where observers today can see essentially the same piece that other people saw generations earlier. We can change the way it is displayed, but the piece itself remains pretty much the same.
The performing arts don't work that way. A script, a score, or choreography, once written, all need interpreters to bring them to audiences. Since every interpreter has different skills and capabilities, all performances of that work will be different. So, even though something like Beethoven's 5th Symphony has been performed thousands of times over the centuries, no two performances have ever been (or will ever be) exactly alike.
As performers, that means we should think differently about our "product" than sculptors or painters do. Our products don't go into museums. They occur in time, happening once before they're gone forever. They are, as I sometimes say, snapshots in time, reflecting all we have to give in a specific moment, which (we hope) will grow, evolve, and change over time. Our later performances of certain works will certainly differ from earlier performances of those same works as we gain skill and experience and a deeper sense of how our skills and experiences inform our artistry.