The Problem Solver... or at least Identifier.

RWCMD singers' Facebook and Twitter accounts went a bit mad yesterday, raving about Paul Farrington's lecture, which sadly I had to miss. It did pique my interest for my session with him today. I had heard him called a 'vocal trouble-shooter' with a highly scientific approach to singing, and that the one-to-ones were a bit quirky and involved various accessories. With this in mind I was almost ready to feel self-conscious this morning, as my session was a public one. Luckily he was very easy-going and once he had uttered the words What I'm about to insert between your bum-cheeks is just my hip bone, so don't worry, we were well on our way to a nice working atmosphere.

I'll put a list of Paul's thoughts, quotes, exercises and suggestions at the bottom of this post (as usual), but for now I'd just like to describe the incident that stuck out most in my mind, and I think it's fair to say that others who were there would agree that it was tantamount to a mini-miracle. Upon 'diagnosing' a colleague of mine with tension in the root of the tongue, after an attempt at releasing it through exercises, Paul proceeded to actual physical manipulation. It looked like a painful massage on the front of the neck and under the jaw, with a fair bit of force applied. I'm sure you're wondering, yes, he is trained in the methodology of manipulation and no, you can't try it at home. Did it work? The colleague in question opened his mouth and the voice was barely recognisable! Well, that may be going a bit far, but trust me, the difference was collosal.

So is Paul Farrington a miracle-worker with a voice-altering touch? Oh, if only it was that simple. The example I described was only a release of tension, a taste of what can be achieved in a world where all tongues are perfectly relaxed, but after a phrase or two the tension did start creeping back in. It was however a fascinating experience to see and work with someone who not only hears that something is wrong in the voice, or can be improved, but who can also describe what it is exactly, down to the names of the muscles involved, and also has ideas on how to fix it that even utilise elements of physiotherapy.

If you want to find out more about what Paul does, have a look at his website:
www.paulfarrington.org

Here are the thoughts, quotes, etc, in no particular order:

When he thought I was pumping too much air into my voice, he had me hum and sing the aria into a CPR-mask. It also took away any element of self-listening.

The jaw should drop only as far as it can go forward. Quite a few of us had to give the audience our best Bruce Forsyth impressions. If the jaw goes down further it goes back, putting pressure on all sorts of things that should remain pressure-free. You can get a taste for when this happens by jamming your fingers between your ears and jaw (careful, it can hurt if you're tigt there, but if you get your jaw forward, two fingers should be able to fit).

A whiney voice with some badly acted crying and sobbing creates a great space for singing high and yet keeping a forward placement.

To check if you have tension in the root of the tongue, try performing your piece making a farting noise. You can only keep it going with a loose tongue.

If you have tension there, try singing with your jaw resting on a hard surface (we had a Steinway in the hall, you may have to make do with something less glamorous) to help isolate the problem.

If I draw the jaw forward then the soft palette goes 'come on then, bring it on!'.

You can't have that party for one in your mouth. On sound going too far back and sounding good to the singer, but dead to the audience.

The jaw and the tongue have become part of your support mechanism without you realising it. They do work as a double act. Taking them out (of the support) feels scary and out of control, but the support is actually supposed to come from somewhere else.

As an exercise in bringing the jaw forward, you can try singing with what Paul described as an unfortunate underbite (as seen on some breeds of dog).

You don't need to open your mouth any more, the space is already there. If you need more, do it on the inside. Again, not letting the jaw go back and introduce tension.

There was a bit of talk about stress, and one tip was to combat nerves by focussing on engaging a muscle group that makes you feel stronger, and doesn't impede singing. The f*ing muscle which gives you an active back and slightly aggressive stance '... and your family!'. Just imagine someone's pulling at your bra straps. Or alternatively (some of us feel silly in bras) get a theraband (elastic tape used for exercise and physiotherapy) and stand on the middle of it, feet at hip width, with your hands down by your sides holding the stretched ends of the tape. Relax the knees (we don't want to the legs working up tension) and feel your back engage.

On articulating coloratura: it should be like moments of joy in the pubic floor. Support in general starts from the pubic bone. The diaphragm can't give us the subtle movements needed for coloratura, but the pubic muscles can.

A potentially controversial one: Taking low breaths lowers the larynx, which is not good when attempting to sing high notes, because the larynx physiologically needs to be up for them. Higher breathing makes it easier to sing shorter phrases that start high. You don't need the Wagner suck.

On turning the voice: you don't need to take the sound back before turning it. Your voice is a car, not a bendy bus, you don't have to take the wider route around corners. Try to find the shortest way up, not the detour, turn the voice but keep it forward. Singers obsess about the idea of space, we get told that you need a huge space to sing high, but if you take that thought and it makes you search for space at the back and jam all your sound there, you risk losing the forward 'on the mask' placement.

It's a duck. A happy duck. A happy American duck... from Texas. A happy American duck with attitude. - On getting the voice forward by singing in a caricature ugly voice.

You should be able to hum what you sing, it makes sure your vocal folds are going long and thin (which is apparently what they love best).

If you open up and let me in, it'll be less painful. 

That last one was probably when doing the fingers between ear and jaw thing, and I think I'll leave it at that ;)


All thoughts, quotes, etc are based on my notes from the session, I reserve the right to get things wrong in my paraphrasing, feel free to disagree, it's all just food for thought and a way for me to process my thoughts, treat it as a curiosity, feel free to disagree, can't we all just get along? 

- Tenor Actor! - Um, it's just 'Actor', I'm actually a baritone.*

A Night at the Chinese Opera - Act 3 (The Old Crone) 

As I mentioned in my last post, this Summer seems to have been dominated by 20th century repertoire: first the Bernstein MASS in the Royal Albert Hall (quite possibly the high point of my singing adventures so far!), The Shadow of the Wave at the Tête à Tête Festival (see below), and last, but definitely not least, A Night at the Chinese Opera with British Youth Opera. It also seems to be the time of year when I get to practice the experience of covering: last year at Banff and with Scottish Opera, this time in BYO.

In many ways covering for BYO is a unique experience, especially when compared with my previous forays into understudying or what I've heard from my friends about how it is in various opera companies. First and foremost, you are guaranteed a public performance, which is a very powerful motivator and also a valuable opportunity, as the cover shows are usually quite well attended. It is worth noting that this performance is with the orchestra, which I'm pretty sure you don't get anywhere else.

A Night at the Chinese Opera - Act 2

Secondly, you are present for pretty much the entire production schedule, right from the first studio rehearsals. It does mean you are potentially in for a lot of long days (10.30am-9pm), but on the other hand you not only get to watch the show grow and take form, but more importantly you get to be part of the social life. Spending breaks with the cast and crew is a great way of getting to know people that in other companies you'd only really get to watch on stage. Here you have a chance to form a much wider team, and certainly in the case of A Night at the Chinese Opera I think everyone felt supported by one another. I personally really appreciated that so many of the main cast came to the cover show, and those that didn't manage to make it sent their best wishes. That kind of friendly atmosphere really makes a huge difference to how you work, how you feel and finally to the finished product. It certainly makes the time pass much quicker! Once it was all over we could hardly believe that 5 weeks had gone...

The short run of shows also means that the probability of a cover going on is not very high, which in turn means that there is less pressure on sticking to what the principals are doing than would normally be the case. Don't get me wrong, we had to have a solid knowledge of the show and the main cast's blocking, just in case, but once that was achieved we felt encouraged to make it our own. This obviously has to do with the fact that the cover show is a public one, and it shows how committed BYO is to the growth of every person involved in the season. In fact, the people in charge not only came to see our performance, but Stuart Barker (who was in fact the director for Chinese Opera) also came to some of the cover rehearsals, and both himself and Peter Robinson took the time to chat to every member of the company not just to see how we were all getting on, but also to find out more about us. It all makes for a unique process to be involved in.

A Night at the Chinese Opera - Act 3 ('Death by slow slicing!')

All photos by Bill Knight

This may all look like a marketing blurb, and naturally over the course of the 5 weeks there were moments of tiredness, crankiness and doubt, but those just come with the job and are to be expected anywhere. It doesn't change the fact that what with all the lovely people I got to meet doing it, the challenge of putting on a contemporary opera, the satisfaction felt after doing it well, and everything else I've touched on here, BYO was a great experience for me and I feel lucky to have been a part of it.

In other news, a video of the last contemporary opera I did is available to watch online here!

* The title of this post is inspired by what James H called out when he saw me come out of the theatre after our cover show. It's not the first time this has happened to me, so I should probably get used to it, but in Chinese Opera I was in fact covering the role of Tenor Actor. It's quite lucky for me that I do have some history in playing these slightly ambiguous roles (although here the clue is perhaps in the name), otherwise I might not have had the chance to take part in BYO this Summer. I would however like to express my gratitude to the company for putting the role down simply as Actor in the programme, saving me some awkward back pedaling should anyone ask what someone with my bio is doing singing a tenor part. 

To those who don't know, I am in fact a baritone, albeit a fairly high one, which allows me to slip into 'tenor mode' every now and again, under the right circumstances.