Hate watching

I read an article in a recent NATS publication about hate watching. We all know the game: watching a performance we expect (or hope) will be bad just so we can make fun of it. American Idol has made a lot of money off the concept. The article made reference to last year's NBC production of Sound of Music with Carrie Underwood as an example and pointed to the social media commentary as proof of all the hate watching.

I think a lot of times we imagine auditions, masterclasses, Dem Lab performances, JURIES, like everyone is hate watching our performance, just waiting for us to make a mistake.

When we find those thoughts creeping into our heads, it may be worth stepping back to consider what kind of audience members we are ourselves. Do we hope the performers we are watching do well or are we secretly rooting for some noticeable failure (as if their failure somehow makes us better)?

It’s one thing to notice imperfections and to have opinions about what we are seeing and hearing and deciding what we might do differently. That’s an important part of developing artistry. And it’s perfectly alright to say that you don’t like a performance.

But what are we looking for? Are we looking for flaws or looking for what works? Are we quick to criticize or quick to compliment?

Now, consider how you evaluate your own performances. Do you look for the flaws first or can you just as easily highlight your areas of excellence?

Did you see this French ad for Dove?
http://www.bustle.com/articles/74573-french-dove-campaign-asks-women-to-write-down-every-negative-thought-about-themselves

We would never let other people get away with saying the negative things to us that we say to ourselves. We all know haters gonna hate and we can't do anything about that. Do we really need to do it to ourselves, as well?

Some of the most gracious performers I know are also the most gracious audience members. They love to perform and they love to watch others do what they love—perform.

I love watching my students perform. Honestly, it’s one of my favorite things to do. I enjoy it even more when I can tell you feel good about your own performance.

That’s what I'd like to see at your juries. Thanks for a great semester!

Now go practice.

Practice like Wynton

One thing I’ve been trying to emphasize differently this year (and the impetus for this blog, really) is just how intentional and methodical practicing needs to be if we are to make the most significant improvements.

Generally, we don't really need much time to warm up our voices. But we DO need specific exercises—used regularly over time—to build the voice in ways that will lead to the most significant improvements in our technical capabilities.

Singing in your car may serve to warm up the voice, but it can't really be considered honest “practice” because the seat tends to compromise posture and singing over the outside noise of the engine and traffic encourages pushing the voice. Plus, if you are really giving your singing the focus it deserves then you aren't paying enough attention to your driving.

Singing through a bunch of songs is one form of practice but it should never be a replacement for daily technical work.

Here is a site I saw recently (thanks, Cecily!) about how professional trumpet player Wynton Marsalis practices:

http://arbanmethod.com/wyntons-twelve-ways-to-practice/

His list of twelve ways to practice emphasizes a lot of elements we have worked on and discussed in lessons but also introduces some concepts that were new to me. I especially like #9 and #12, which I hadn't ever seen spelled out in quite that way before.

Which number(s) on the list work the best for you? Which numbers do you need to emphasize differently?

“I like to say that the time spent practicing is the true sign of virtue in a musician. When you practice, it means you are willing to sacrifice to sound good.” —Wynton Marsalis

Now go practice.

Cognition

For a long time pedagogues have discussed the three major elements of singing as respiration, phonation, and resonance. Recent authors have added registration and articulation to the list. But the most recent addition I have read is “cognition.”

Of course, every action begins with a thought—a message sent from the brain instructing the body to behave in a certain way. Sometimes the body acts accordingly and sometimes it doesn't seem to do what we ask.

Those of you who have studied the Alexander Technique may know that it encourages a similar process called “inhibition” or “the pause.” This means that instead of doing something immediately that we instead take a few seconds to consider what it is that we're trying to do and how we should do it before we move forward with the action.

I think human beings are naturally impulsive. At least, our current cultural climate seems to encourage spontaneity or action without a lot of forethought. YOLO, dude.

In singing, however, or at least in our practicing, we may benefit from a more mindful approach. Do we just act, react, and act again, or do we stop and consider before we act? Perhaps our practice could benefit from a more conscientious approach.

Something to consider. (See what I did there?)

Take time to think.

Now go practice.

Competition

Here is an article I read a while ago that I was reminded of this weekend as I was at the NATS auditions.

http://www.bulletproofmusician.com/how-to-compare-yourself-to-others-without-getting-totally-depressed/

The whole idea of competition is strange when it comes to the arts. The best artists I know are generous, giving, kind, and genuinely interested in the well being of others. Not aggressive, cutthroat, and win-at-all-costs, like the way competitive people are often portrayed.

Unlike sports, the arts aren't ultimately about winning anything. People run races to see who can get to the finish line first, but the point of singing a song is not just to get to the end of the song.

Even if you go through an arduous audition and end up getting the role, that’s when the work BEGINS. All the audition has afforded you is the opportunity to create and explore and express and share. In my experience, people who spend energy developing aggressive, cutthroat, and backstabbing skills are not the best when it comes to creating, exploring, expressing, and sharing.

That’s one thing I like about the NATS auditions. Though they do award place winners, everyone walks away with work to do. The comment sheets, in my mind, are the point of the competition (in addition to performing in this slightly odd and unfamiliar format). We all get comments on how effective we are in practicing our art and how it is perceived by a panel of folks who work in the field.

As we were tabulating scores on Saturday, it was brought up how vastly different the scores sometimes were in each center going from judge to judge. Someone on the committee suggested that we may want to encourage conversation and collaboration among the judges in order to decide who should win each category (something we currently prohibit).

It was ultimately decided to leave the rules the way they are: independent judges with varied perspectives stating their individual opinions. After all, that’s what we get when we perform before an audience—lots of different people with their own impressions.

As the article above indicates, there are healthy ways to compare ourselves to others as we work toward our goals. And a bit of a competitive spirit isn't necessarily a bad thing. But the cliche is true, the only person you are in competition with is the person you were yesterday.

Now go practice.

Imagine

On Saturday, I helped lead the ATP auditions for next year’s freshman class.

We heard almost 30 students, all of whom are DESPERATE to be part of this department. DESPERATE to do what we do every day. DESPERATE to be given the chance to work toward their dreams and goals.

The heartbreaking part of this is that we cannot take all of those students into our programs. We have a limited number of resources and if we are to continue to serve all of our students in the way that they deserve, we cannot accept more than would allow us to do that.

So, my reaction to these auditions was not to pat myself on the back for being part of a sought-after program. Rather, it inspired a huge dose of humility and re-evaluation to make sure I am serving all of you in the way that you deserve.

Of course, we are not a perfect program. Just as you are all flawed and developing performers, we are all flawed and developing teachers. We do our best but we fail sometimes. Or often.

But we are committed to the journey. And I hope you are too.

I tend not to get taken in by slogans and advertisements but the ad I keep seeing for the University of Utah is "Imagine U.” This is actually quite a profound, university-wide statement on who we want to be. Artists must imagine. We have to imagine possibility. We have to imagine ourselves in places we never thought we’d be. We have to imagine direction and momentum. We have to imagine achievements that we had absolutely no business imagining for ourselves.

After I post this, I get to call a high school senior to tell her that she has been accepted into the MTP and, as such, will be the first member of her family ever to attend college.

Our work is important. It is an honor to do it every day. If you don’t believe that, please do something else. If you do believe that, please insist that I push you as hard as you deserve.

Imagine U.  I have.

Now go practice.

Structured Practice

Here's a website about practicing that I recently came across:

https://privatelessons.com/article/how-practice

There are lots of good insights shared but one that particularly caught my attention was the idea of having goals for each practice session. 

The author says, for instance, "Practicing should be highly goal oriented. For example, “Today I intend to clean up the runs in my Handel aria, and bring measure 8 up to full tempo.”"

Then he gets even more specific: 

Practice Plan for Tuesday

4:00 - Warm up with open vowel exercises and some light runs. Warm up to a “g” and down to a “c”

4:10 - Practice bar 12 of French aria until it is clean at 72 bpm

4:15 - Run Italian piece multiple times until memorized

4:35 - Practice speaking in rhythm French piece

4:45 - Work baritone entrance in choir piece on pgs. 5 and 6

I think we all have goals when we practice, but some of them might be too broad: learn this song, improve high notes, etc. Maybe we could benefit from getting even more specific: learn notes of the A section cleanly, speak the B section of my Italian text in rhythm until it's solid, work an [i] vowel into the passaggio without raising the larynx, etc.

Maybe it would help to have an overall goal in mind as you are also working on a smaller goal. A couple of my goals lately have been to explore two frequent areas of tension that I keep running into: my neck muscles (specifically the sternocleidomastoids, if you must know!) and the muscle under my chin (the mylohyoid). As I'm vocalizing and working toward my other mini goals, I also try to be intentional about keeping those muscles as uninvolved as possible as an overall goal.

Do you use small practice goals? Consider taking a few days to plan out a practice session that is as detailed as the one above and see if you can stick to it. Identify some big goals and then see how specific and task oriented you can be about breaking them down into smaller, manageable steps. You can even use the first couple of minutes of your practice session to create an outline of goals.

Give it a try and let us know how that works.

Now go practice.

The daily rite of discovery

Here’s an article that’s worth your time:  

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2013/04/08/every-good-boy-does-fine

It’s written by a music professor (pianist) about many of the teachers he had throughout his life. 

Much of the essay centers around one teacher in particular that he studied with at Indiana University (one of my alma maters as well). Among the many lessons  he learned from this teacher, one is particularly pertinent to this blog:

“[He] said many times that you don’t teach piano playing at lessons; you teach how to practice—the daily rite of discovery that is how learning really happens.” 

I’ve mentioned this to some of you since we’ve been back in session. In lessons we analyze, tweak, and suggest certain directions or procedures in which to place your focus. But the real learning happens on your own as you practice and engage in "the daily rite of discovery.” 

So, what have you discovered lately?

Now go practice.