Cornelius Reid

I've mentioned Cornelius Reid briefly here, but developments this past year led me to investigate him once again and more thoroughly. And when I mean investigate him, I really mean more his teachings but also information on the man himself. You can check out a website dedicated to him here (he died just a couple years ago in his 90s).

Several years ago, when I was still preparing to apply to music schools, I ordered the trio of books Reid wrote mid-century. They're each a mixture of manifesto, technical manual, and history of vocal teaching practices -- each book having a slightly different emphasis and mix of these elements. (Ironically, Patelson, where I ordered the books, seems to be defunct themselves now.)

I was hitting all sorts of roadblocks this past year. I felt that I had to sing full tilt for a semi-steady sound; I couldn't sing very high or very low; I became vocally tired relatively quickly; it took me forever to "warm up" to get a functioning sound. I decided that the most key deficiency was not being able to produce a medium volume or soft sound that would carry or be steady. And further, I thought it was because I didn't know how to make a heady mixture that I've heard my fellow students (even non-voice majors) produce and carry relatively high in the range. With this in mind, I turned to Reid's books again with an eye for something different.

In a nutshell, Reid's arguments are that (1) there was a Golden Age of song in the 17th and 18th centuries -- this is based on contemporary descriptions of singers, but also on the kind of vocal writing singers were expected to (and did) deliver; (2) in virtually all of the writing on vocal training and technique from this period do not mention or describe anything we would recognize today as "placement" or "breath support." Nothing; (3) therefore, what these teachers did focus on (vowel purity, pitch, and intensity) must be enough to resolve the technical problems and deficiencies encountered in vocal training.

In developing this argument, Reid then formulates an "answer," of some sort, to the current trends in vocal training -- namely, placement and breath support.

He writes that when the vocal mechanism is in balance (and he basically means larynx and vocal cord area), the body knows how to supply sufficient air and "support." Shortness of breath for phrasing does not mean the body does not know how to breathe -- it does. It is a symptom of inefficient vocal coordination and production. (If someone is running with shitty form and is having difficulty with running long -- or short -- distances, the approach to long-term improvement is not to practice breathing or endurance exercises -- it's to fix the form first.)

Moreover, the voice, unlike every other instrument, cannot be controlled consciously in the way that other muscles can. You cannot cause your vocal cords to vibrate 380 times a second consciously. What is under control are pitch, intensity/volume, and vowel. These are the tools that the student and teacher must use to investigate technical problems and their solutions.

Reid also invokes anatomy to support his (and I suppose, Golden Age teachers') view of the voice as a two-register instrument: there are just two motor nerves that go from the brain to the vocal cord complex. He calls these chest and head registers. The basic trouble in vocal training is to develop unused registers and then to combine these registral actions in such a way to produce and evenness of scale throughout the voice. This is approached via exercises that arrange pitch, intensity/volume, and vowel (just the very things you can consciously control) in such a way that it predisposes the voice to use one registration or another. That is to say, the voice has a reflexive tendency to use one of the two registers depending on what vowel and how loudly you sing it on a certain pitch.

From here, it's a pretty straight shot to the technical training procedure.

This approach was appealing to me because it dispensed with the entire notion of breathing support as something one needed to practice. As demonstrated in a session with one of my teachers, I can evenly release breath on a hiss at a very very slow rate. Ask me to sing and it goes to pieces. Ergo, something that I'm doing with singing is just not right.

So I did some digging around and spoke to two teachers who studied with Reid (or studied with someone who did) about vocal training. I'm probably going to do some consultation and some work with them this summer (one hopes) -- but let me first share some of the links/reading that resulted from my investigation.

The approach made sense, but was the proof in the pudding? What I liked about this group of teachers (if they can be called a group), was that they believed that everyone was able to learn to sing with freedom, and that anybody who wanted to learn how to do so, they would teach -- never mind about adding to their own reputation via their students'. I don't believe that having famous students necessarily means teachers know how to teach vocal technique. As a friend of mine pointed out to me -- the greatest predictor of who will win an award (like, say, the Nobel or Pulitzer) is winning other awards. Success feeds itself. So, I was looking for what students taught this way sounded like. And if I could figure out what they might have sounded like before (very hard or impossible), the better. What was telling were cases of singers suffering vocal damage and seeking out a Reid teacher to reconstruct their voices and techniques. That got my attention.

Anyhow - without further ado:

Studied directly with Cornelius Reid:

• Judith Raskin -- so told to me by another of his students. It's not mentioned in biographical materials I've been able to find.


• George Shirley -- and here with Leontyne Price


• Wendy White -- who also attributes everything to Reid - her sole teacher, here with Bartoli


• Julian Patrick


• Ellen Shade -- and I'm not sure but is this same Ellen Shade here and here?


• John Stewart -- as you might expect, it's a little bit tricky doing searches for this name and getting the right person


• Marianna Kulika -- and here singing Adalgisa with June Anderson's Norma


• Ariel Bybee


• Katherine Posner


• David Christopher


• Joel Ewing


• Carol Baggott-Forte

Students of Students:

• Grant Youngblood -- David Christopher


• Kevin Youk -- Joel Ewing, I'm assuming


• Sharla Nafziger -- Carol Baggott-Forte


• Stephanie Piercey -- Carol Baggott-Forte in recovery from vocal damage which required surgery


• Wolfgang Weiss -- Carol Baggott-Forte

Each of these singers a) looks relaxed, b) sounds easy, and c) has great diction. It's what I want and although I've made some breakthroughs in many of my goals this year, I hope that this summer will be extremely rewarding studying this way. Will keep tabs on developments here.

a new direction

It's been brewing for awhile, but the decision was made fairly recently to shoot for entrance into a PhD program (musicology, methinks) after Peabody rather than additional performance degrees or just going on the market as a vocalist.

The reasons are severalfold:

1. I'm good at academics -- more importantly, I think about a lot of things related to music beyond "what's necessary" for a performer. Investigating this would be of interest to me anyway. The model of conductors like Jane Glover and Christopher Hogwood balancing performance and producing scholarly work is appealing, though I'd be approaching it from the other side.


2. Because of #1, it's much more likely that I'd be better funded than if I got an MM and then a DMA.


3. Most importantly, I wouldn't give up pursuit of performance -- but entering this line of scholarship would be beneficial along all sorts of lines. A performance background becomes useful; an academic background is useful in performance; and it's useful to be marketable beyond performance given the vagaries of profession and getting started

I've had quite a bit of support from classmates and professors in pursuing this plan, including the incarnation of moving forward without graduating from Peabody.

And since the application process for programs would begin in earnest in 1.5 years, this would be an interesting time to document it -- not unlike the reason this blog was started in the first place (documenting application to performance programs).

Based on preliminary investigation, programs at Eastman and Berkeley would be very interesting. Eastman was actually put on the map by my ear-training professor -- who is Eastman-trained, thinks I have a shot at the program, and never failing to impress, is a founding member of Alarm Will Sound (a fact which always catches up with me at the most inopportune moments in class).

In terms of setting up research interests, I started thinking back to things I've been interested in/obsessed with. One of the more interesting things is sparked off of comments like this:

I have never found that [Fiery Angel] "works" as an opera.
Indeed, my usual reaction to Prokofiev's operas is that the orchestra seems
to be playing in another room from the voices, or might as well be for all
that either of them seems to have to do with the other.
I find Flaming Angel a very successful tone poem or orchestral suite. But
they should can the singers and the staging, which don't interact with it at
all.

This is even truer of Love for Three Oranges and War & Peace.

Hans Lich
John Yohalem

Not this specific post, certainly, but I've been registering my utter frustration with an aesthetic assumption of "gesamtkunstwerk" or even just underlying cultural expectations of what constitutes "drama," particularly since I grew up watching all sorts of things in a culture which has very different concepts of drama and synergy. Check out this Taiwanese variety show -- its post-processing happiness is readily apparent, though it lays off the visual popups.

clicky

A bit more seriously, although Chinese culture still has a tradition of classical music drama (which is fused inextricably with dance) however different the valuations of "drama," concision and brevity not considered virtues, Japan has an even different configuration. One of its classical dance forms, Kabuki, separates the vocalism from the actors, and the actors themselves inhabit an uneasy intersection of dance and drama when viewed along Western lines.

So, an area of interest of me would be music drama from traditions that do not fall under the purview of Aristotelian ideas of drama but interact with such a tradition. The biggie would probably be Russian opera, followed by Eastern European opera. And then investigating South Asian and East Asian traditions of drama.

I have a lot of reading to do.

bullets to a new day

Eeeek, I have been remiss in writing on this blog for quite a bit of time, but I think now is a really good time to bring this thought-repository up a little bit more to speed. Well, let's not waste more time!

• In the interest of disclosure, it's been a tough personal time recently. I doubt anybody really wants to know the details, but I think it's important to acknowledge that it did happen, especially since the bigger issues touched upon (like ego, body image, intimacy) are likely to be recurring. I suspect I'm not unique in this situation, but I think it's important that I log the good and the bad (at least that the bad occurred and the good that was entangled in it, so I can get better at separating the two).


• I have my motorcycle endorsement! Yes! I am now on my way to getting myself wheels for much less than it would cost to own a car. Yes, it is more dangerous than driving a car, but I think the benefits outweigh it: namely it is mobility and flexibility (I hardly need a vehicle for every day), it's easier to park, it's cheaper both to own and to pay for gas, and let's not forget the *awesome* factor. I want to be this dude on a motorcycle!


• I went a dear friend's wedding in San Diego. Leaving the wedding aside, what the hell was I thinking when I went to school on the east coast? And why am I staying there? (reminder to self: music school, sigh). I could have studied environmental engineering at Berkeley, but instead I studied chemistry...uh...somewhere else. Not that I regret anything, but San Diego was amazing. I got to sit in a clover patch next to the beach and watch the bees hum. It was a fantastic weekend.


• I also went home to visit my parents (and my sister and her boyfriend came to visit at the same time too, so that was good). We took the boyfriend about the state to see the White Sand Dunes, Carlsbad Caverns, and of course, the UFO Museum in Roswell. In between, there were amazing sights that forcibly struck home how much I love New Mexico. I have a list of 5 different places I would want to live incognito when I get older. Maybe I can convince my sister to send me the pictures she took of some of these places.


• In terms of vocal bootcamp...it was that. Sort of. I'm pretty much convinced that the next big battle is figuring out how to deal with the passagio and the upper register such that I actually can sing lines up there rather than just isolated tones. I'm pretty convinced that *something* different has to happen mechanistically, but nobody I've really studied with has made much progress in helping to illuminate that. I think that's the biggest technical thing that's sitting right in front of me right now, so I'm hoping that studying with someone for several years at a stretch will help facilitate that work. (And who am I kidding, there are plenty of other things to take care of as well.) I did make quite a few strides. Before going home, I had toyed around with a "Kermit the Frog" placement. In its tightest incarnation, it gives a golden and tightly wound vibrato to the sound. I definitely sound like a tenor when I sing this way. But it also does really unpleasant things to the larynx, so I have been trying to figure out how to incorporate that space with the other throat-tension-diffusing things that I am doing. I think I've made quite a few strides forward in that case, still maintaining the range height that I have and not killing the bottom of the range either. I'll have to play with this a little bit more, but it's a nice avenue to look down.


• My parents are visiting! So I've been madly cleaning (which the apartment needs anyway because I've been gone for 2 weeks!). I think that about catches everything up to the moment. I best get back to cleaning -- but I *definitely* will get back to posting all the things I've been promising (e.g. Nordic Voices, eeek!) to post about.

WEEEEEE!

hooray!

I just got home from dinner to see a little package wedged in front of my door but behind the grate.

I just received my acceptance package from Peabody!

floridity is the ticket?

I'm really digging the oratorio pieces that I am currently working on (See the Raging Flames Arise from Handel's Joshua, and two of Raphael's arias from Die Schoepfung). They're florid (which is not something included in the other pieces I'm preparing or have in my back pocket -- and for good reason) and due to (I think) a better understanding of my larynx and the florid passagework I've been doing with "vien diletto" exercises, my ability to hack the fioritura is now at an unprecedented level of comfort.

Upward scales, downward scales, stepwise passages, arpeggiated ascending and descending series -- they're all sung with a comfort I would *never* have thought possible, and with a line and resonance that is really satisfying. In light of this, I think I should include something florid in my audition selection, simply because florid baritones don't seem to be everywhere -- a quick sampling of baritones singing 'Dunque io son' sound pretty appalling from a florid standpoint. And frankly, if the beauty of my voice itself cannot carry the day, it would seem that I have to show that I have more to offer.

Perhaps related to this, I think I'm discovering how to texture the registration that higher tones are still hooked into the voice, but a lighter resonance handles the actual "volume" or carrying power. However, while the upper reaches of the voice (say, high G to C) are stabilizing (I have a high C more often now, heh, even if my teacher says she wouldn't pay to hear it -- hee hee! is that a challenge?!), starting on the note itself is somewhat treacherous and prone to tightening, so I still have a lot to figure out about how to sing that last "O, roi des cieux" from 'Avant de quitter.'

I think watching Hvorostovsky in concert here might be of use (then again, I might not have any idea how he does it...). At least my understanding of the instrument itself is improving -- I'm able to hear more clearly what's going on registration-wise when he goes for those high notes.



The other thing that I'm really liking about the oratorio arias (especially in Raphael's Rollend in schaumenden Wellen) is that they tap into something 'spiritual' (though that's an incredibly hokey word with all of these associations that I don't wish to dredge up).

A friend of mine who was visiting this weekend and I had this discussion (across many different conversations). Essentially -- ethics requires belief in *something* - requires faith in something that need not be religion (the organized versions thereof having their own rituals and codings). Given that, most, if not all people have faith -- it's just a question of faith in what. Faith in science? Faith in people? Faith in God? The act of believing is universal (and if you read Animals in Translation, the author also mentions this obliquely and ties it in in a more ... not scientific, but more reasoned way) -- we all can't agree on what we should be believing. So, despite my disavowal of deities, I do, in fact, have faith. What I would call it, I'm not sure -- but I have faith that humanity/life of humanity is fundamentally worthy of concern or attention. And this faith expresses itself in a way that I think people call 'spirituality' and when I sing with the voice of Raphael (as envisioned by Haydn) about a limpid brook, gliding and purling through rolling vales, there's something that taps at that faith. Tugs it gently, and something special happens to my experience of musicmaking.

Maybe it's solipsistic and self-indulgent, but in recent practices I have lingered on that top D ("Leise"), my voice finally able to float and spin that note without noticeable effort. It's a beautiful feeling.

And I think I'm finally developing a faith that I *am* suited to singing and musicmaking (which I separate from being able to make a career of it). Further, I had an epiphany about what this was all about. Practicing in a more dedicated manner has been wonderful. I love it -- the discipline, the habit, the creativity, the teaching I am giving myself. It's really pushed the point home that I will mostly likely sing and take lessons for the rest of my adult life, regardless of whether or not I'm accepted to school or can make a career of singing.

The belief in myself as a musician has also clarified and separated what I dream about and what attainable goals I set for myself.

• Dream: to support myself/family through a career in music
• Goal: to seek and achieve 'mastery' of my vocal technique

This rethinking has also lessened the pressure of the looming auditions, but I still have a looong way to go and a lot of work before I'm done.

playlist of more nuts

More music to listen to for inspiration whilst preparing for school auditions:

notes to self

This is nuts.

1. no pressing of the high notes. if everything is running in a straight track, just go with it and let the overtones take care of carrying power


2. you know what the vowel is, was, and will be. prep them a la Price whose mouth seems to be moving in slow motion rather than rapid changes between held vowels


3. you should never have to rebuild your support -- just don't take it down once you've got it


4. loooooseness

Now, then -- off to practice!

abarai kenji - interrupted!

I'll have to delay the paen to Abarai Kenji (I know, I know, my Bleach obsession has really gotten out of control. It's all your fault, youtube!!!).

Anyhow, it's getting to be the school audition season, so I get back to talking about that. I'll have more updates regarding that as I receive notices. However, I need to keep a goal list during the home stretch about the technical things that I want to accomplish. So here goes.

• Solidify the range from low f to high f. I need to know that I can count on these notes. Iffy notes begin at low g and high e. No need to go berserk on the higher notes (since I won't be singing them at these auditions) unless it turns out to be psychologically bolstering to know that high c's come out of this voice (and they do -- they just won't be performed....yet).


• Increase the suppleness of scales. No tightening. Let the voice position itself -- it knows best. Just keep the voice as forward within its comfort zone as possible.


• Uniformity of sound, or at least uniformity of resonance, from low f to high e. High f would be great but generally unnecessary.


• Work on attacks, especially in the mid to high voice so that the quality of tone that I want begins immediately,


• Work on the releases as well -- this should facilitate phrases I must sing in the high range that have consonants that require closing the mouth.


• Speaking of consonants, work on increasing their placisity so that they help enable legato and voice-placement rather than hindering them.


• !!!!Vowel purity!!! within this range


• The Schwarzkopf responsibility^TM: I am responsible for how every note sounds. I must be confident that I can draw the maximum resonance for each tone every time the first time and that I can paint confidently with the colors of my voice by intention and not accident.

I think that's quite a handful. We'll see if I can get there in time.