The Impulse to Sing by Karen Clark This article is published in The Feldenkrais Journal No. 14, Winter 2002 When a new student comes to me for a voice lesson and I ask what she would like to improve upon, ten times out of ten, regardless of previous training or not, the generic terms support will be her answer. I know from experience what the word conjures up mentally and physically. Most often the subtext is something like tell me how I need to manipulate my body, contract my abdominal muscles, and hold my ribs so that I do not run our of air when I sing. I inquire further, and ask her to explain to me her understanding of support. Most often she response with a list of anatomical areas where she knows how to contract her abdomen, how her diaphragm is somehow supposed to be involved (held low, expanded), but for reasons unknown to her she is unable to replicate this. A compartmentalized conception of singing is prevalent in many traditional voice studios where often the student is instructed in terms of shoulds or musts such as, your feet should be positioned like so, your head should float, your spine should be long, ribs buoyant, diaphragm low, and more. Years of technical study may ensue in an effort to produce this intellectually imposed, idealized straight jacket which often, more than anything, distances her from a genuine experience of her true voice. It is true that some of the conditions described are desired aspects of the experience of singing. But something is missing, which brings up the question of what happens when we sing. Years ago, I told a friend of my deep sense, or intuition, that vocal technique could somehow be taught from the inside out. [Indeed at one time it was. Italian School] In my experience, the Feldenkrais Method of Somatic Education offers valuable insights into self-observation and imagination which are vital to the art of singing. To illustrate, I will present two experiences with private students and an example from an Awareness Through Lesson that I have found to be successful in teaching workshops. (Students names are changed for privacy.) Susan, a soprano with the San Francisco Opera Chorus, called me after she d been with the opera for several months, often singing for several hours a day, 6 days a week. She was concerned because her hight notes were feeling uncomfortable and unreliable and she was afraid that it was due to misuse. When she came to see me I observed that she seemed tired and drawn down physically and spiritually. I took her through some vocal exercises and sensed that the focus, for her, needed to be completely away from the throat. First, we spent some time bending the torso forward from the hip sockets, and I had her locate the hip joints by inserting her thumbs in the area where the head of the femur articulates with the acetabulum. I then had her stand upright and asked her to think of actually beginning to sing by opening, alternately, the right and left hip joints, and each time to think of bringing the hip forward as if to align the knee and ankle over the foot. I had her sing a simple melodic pattern and as the lesson progressed asked her to imagine how this movement from the hip could spiral upward to lengthen and open her torso through the opposite shoulder and upper chest cavity. Here s what seemed to happen: As the larger muscles of the pelvic girdle and the legs engaged to more efficiently support her weight, the upper body became more flexible and the intrinsic musculature in and around the larynx was freed. The hight notes she had
feared would be gone or tired or uncomfortable, were emitted, to her astonishment, beautifully and effortlessly. I assured her that her vocal difficulties were not a result of misuse. More than likely, it was overuse. It wasn t lack of ability; it was undiscovered possibilities. The lesson ended with Susan much relieved and smiling. Another student, Jane, had completed a music degree in voice and was considering graduate school when she came to me for lessons and some consultation. She had been studying as a high soprano but seemed to have very little power and a somewhat limited range. She was in a Feldenkrais training and I felt comfortable explaining and trying out one of my more radical approaches, which is to talk about the vagus nerve! The vagus nerve, as far as I can tell, is impossible to sense directly, but it is not impossible to imagine. I described and then showed a diagram illustrating the numerous places to which the vagus nerve travels. Specific to singing, I emphasized the innervation of the middle ear, the palate, larynx, pharynx, diaphragm, and more poetically, the heart. We then identified the sternum, pointing out the diaphragm s connection behind the area of the xiphoid process. In sitting, I guided her through some folding movements as if to take the head to look between the knees. I then reiterated the image of the vagus nerve and its route connecting the ear and the area of the solar plexus. I asked her to sense a softening in the area behind the xiphoid process, and to begin making utterances at a comfortable pitch level, as if they were coming from the softening. Gradually we built this into a 5-note descending scale. We then began to explore and clarify the varying degrees of intensity possible in the movement of the diaphragm and explored their relation to the intensity of vocal sounds. Try this: Place a hand over the area of the xiphoid process, located at the end of the breast bone (sternum). Cough to clearly identify the movement and connection of the diaphragm there. Next, make a strong grunting sound, or call out in a loud voice Hey! The movement of the diaphragm will be abrupt, similar to the cough, more muscular, and the tone of your voice may be somewhat strident or even harsh. You may also sense the engagement of the lower abdominal muscles. Now think of softening the area behind the breast bone. Think of allowing the movement of the diaphragm to gently release outward into your hand. Begin a moaning, or cooing sound as you do this. After repeating several times, imagine that the resonance of the tone is located in the center of the hard palate. You can experiment with moving this sensation further forward toward the gum-line of the upper front teeth. This more flexible movement of the diaphragm connected with the sensation in the palate is known in singing as the coordinated onset of tone. In the Italian school of singing it is termed appoggiare, which means literally to lean, and impostare, to start or to attune one s voice. For Jane, imagining the vagus nerve relieved her of the intellectual responsibility for singing the pitch correctly. Her voice began to flow out effortlessly and the color of the sound was more complex and satisfying to her. Circumventing the intellect and engaging her imagination was key to finding and freeing her voice. At the end, her response was, I always hoped that singing could feel like this. We both became dewey-eyed, I believe, for the welcome kinesthetic experience of the impulse to sing. [That place we intuit exists but aren t sure how to get there.] Over a period of two summers with intermittent lessons together, Jane s true voice began to come forth. She was not a high soprano after all. By involving more of herself and her body, the
vocal power and range improved dramatically and we discovered that her true voice was much deeper and richer. There is a complexity of color inherent in each individual voice, dependent upon the physical body type, the dimensions and texture of the vocal folds, the psychological disposition, and the world in which the singer inhabits. The goal is to train the real person to go beyond one s self through the overtone series. In voice instruction, the teacher listens for the acoustical properties present in the voice of the student and is in essence listening to the body for how the singer hears and senses. The degree of vocal honesty and consistency that may be achieved by the student is reliant upon the teacher s ability to listen to the singer s world, and to communicate in such a way that the singer is able to experience herself through tone. Playful, patient concentration, and inquisitiveness/curiosity are key to the voice student s development of kinesthetic awareness. In teaching workshops for singers, one of my favorite Awareness Through Movement (ATM) lessons is Lesson 4: Differentiation of Parts and Functions in Breathing, in Moshe Feldenkrais book, Awareness Through Movement. It confuses, enlightens, and challenges many of the trained singer s preconceptions about breath control. In teaching this lesson, I begin and end by having participants sing a simple melody as reference. They sing it as a group a few times before beginning the ATM lesson and are asked to observe their sensations of tone, breath, and body. Right away in this lesson the student is asked to draw air into the upper chest. Usually, hands will raise and heads turn in confusion and in some instances a participant has politely, yet, urgently, reminded me that in singing one never breathes into the upper chest and, furthermore, low, abdominal and diaphragmatic breathing are required for singing. I understand why this part of the lesson initially seems conflicting to the singer. Singers are taught to breathe low, and do so usually without a clear understanding or felt/ sense as to why. Eventually during the lesson, I make mention of the anatomical reality that the lungs include the superior lobes. As As they begin to experience the increased mobility of the sternum and upper ribs, I sometimes reference Richard Miller s book, The Structure of Singing, in which he writes, In technique the sternum must initially find a moderately high position; this position is then retained throughout the inspirationexpiration cycle. (p. 24) Because anatomy is not usually emphasized in the early stages of vocal training, it is common for a singer to have only a vague sense of the diaphragm s location. The student may have some knowledge of the diaphragmatic attachments to the ensiform cartilage, to the inside of the ribs, and the crura of the lumbar spine. But most often they have been givan an image such as feel as if you have an inner-tube around your midsection or think of your ribs as bellows. The see-saw (or chest belly) breathing lesson offers a thorough and deep experience of the movements in and around the diaphragm and their influence and coordination within the entire body. For the singer, this is extremely valuable and often revelatory. At the end of the lesson, after reorienting in the vertical and walking and observing, we return to the melody. Each time the results are remarkably audible! The tone sounds richer, more resonant, warm and round. The responses from the singers include increased air capacity, ability to sustain longer phrases, increased comfort, improvement of tone quality and greater ease in the high notes. It just plain feels good!
Physiologically speaking, the study of vocal technique is, in large part, concerned with balancing the resonating chambers of the vocal tract. The larynx, pharynx, and the mouth make up the vocal tract, which adjusts shape in response to vowel sounds articulated by the lips, tongue, jaw, and larynx. The timbre, or color, of one s voice is reliant, in part, upon the awareness and flexibility of the resonating chambers in the body. Support, then, can be a term used to describe the important interrelationship between air compression, which engages the larger muscles of the pelvis, and air pressure in the upper chest cavity, known as sub-glottic pressure. The balance of this interrelationship allows maximum freedom and flexibility in the areas that make up the vocal tract. But what exactly is being supported? What is the voice? What is singing? A colleague of mine says: Singing is a phenomenon whereby the impulse, which occurs in a hundredth of a second, must be sustained. This requires that the singer have a verb, a narrative, and intention, which is to say an imagined perturbation, that calls forth and sustains the conditioned response. For this reason, the imagination is the most important musical muscle. Training the singing voice, therefore, is training the central nervous system to organize itself in relation to tone. Mental, auditory, and sensory imagery is used to create neural patterns that consistently relate to a mental image. In singing, the singer is asked to imagine that she taste the words, the tones or hear the vibration, the color of the tone gold? silver? bronze? or sense a texture, such as velvet or silk. The conscious image is rehearsed in order to bring about a conditioned reflex, in this case the impulse for a particular tone quality. In singing, the imagined and sensed sound simultaneously connects head, heart, breath, and bowel. Through tone, the body and soul are united in one impulse. I have experimented over the years with imagery and have often wondered why the best results occur when, as I sing, in my mind, I see a bird soaring or wind-surfing. In preparation for this article, I was reading Varela, Thompson, and Rosch s book, The Embodied Mind, and was struck by a quote from M. Merleau-Ponty s, The Structure of Behavior: The properties of the object and the intentions of the subject... are not only intermingled; they also constitute a new whole. When the eye and the ear follow an animal in flight, it is impossible to say which started first in the exchange of stimuli and responses. (The Structure of Behavior, p. 13, quoted in The Embodied Mind, p. 174) Can a voice lesson become a Functional Integration lesson? Singing is movement and music provides a structure through which self-discovery is possible. When I listen to a student in a private voice lesson, my intention is to sense the tone she produces in that moment with my entire being. Technically speaking, I listen to the adduction of the vocal folds which in the scheme of things is a simple, small movement. What I believe I hear in that moment is her current self-image in relation to tone. The vitality in the tone is indicated by the balance of the upper and lower frequencies, the overtones that are present in the tone. Through the harmonics present in her tone, I am hearing how she organizes her world, physically, emotionally, and psychologically. My observations and curiosity lead us as we begin to explore options. Through language, I may suggest an image, or an as if. Through touch, I inquire and seek to clarify
movement. My perceptions allow me to guide her attention in a process of building sensory awareness. No one is certain of what happens in the instant we sing. Nor can we comprehend all of the contributing factors that account for the uniqueness of each voice. I believe that in the study of voice we are trying to regain, or rediscover, our earliest voiced expressions. Before learning to speak the infant takes pleasure in uttering melodious singing sounds, which, unlike speech, do not have to be learned. Our desire to experience ourselves, to resonate with our surrounding, ignites our impulse to sing. All of this to sing one tone, one note, one utterance! I m reminded of the humanist and composer Johannes Brahms (1833-97) setting of an excerpt from Goethe s Werther. In the Alto Rhapsody, Op. 53, Brahms sets this prayer for humanity: Ist auf deinem Psalter Vater der Liebe, ein Ton seinem Ohre vernehmlich, so erquicke sein Herz! Öffne den umwölken Blick über die tausend Quellen neben dem Durstenden in der Wüste. If there is a sound on your psaltery Father of love, one tone which can discern, to awaken his heart! Reveal to his clouded gaze the thousand springs by the side of the thirsty man in the desert. The Feldenkrais Method has led me to a place that years ago I hoped existed. I am now convinced that the depth to which human experience and learning is possible is limitless. And I learn over and over to be suspicious of any feelings of having arrived, since, from this vantage point, the journey back to my self appears to be never-ending. For me, the genius behind Moshe Feldenkrais philosophy is one welcome response to Goethe s plea.