Air – Part 3
After we organize our breathing system to maximize our capacity to engulf air, we have to pursue the next goal: Conservation. It is a simple word and simple minds may think it to be a simple operation. The truth is quite complicated. It was Renata, my voice teacher, who put the truth about air conservation in my ear, and that truth is still an echo in my head. They are her words: “If you want to sing “Bel Canto”, you must learn to sing long phrases.” It was not more than a month later that I figured out one part of the equation and started using my dad’s bowling ball to do “Pull Overs”. When you don’t have the money for good equipment, you improvise and I knew I needed to make space for more air. My dad got tired of me playing with his bowling equipment and bought me my own bowling ball. I still have it.
If I could afford lessons, why couldn’t I afford a dumbbell set?
Renata comes to Iesi for Il Pirata
Lessons with Renata were affordable because she never charged me anything. It cost my dad a few $ for gas to drive me to lessons. Did you know that gasoline was affordable once upon a time? She even gave me the scores to use for study. I was poor, because my dad, like his dad, was a hard worker in an industry that payed peanuts for his time and effort. I ignored the many social justice weeds behind which we Blakes could have hidden. Some carriers of the Blake DNA from my generation found those weeds quite attractive, but I was happy to work toward searching out my gifts and turning them into economic success.
How to improvise.
I learned about “Pull Overs” from a magazine my dad allowed me to slip into an almost overflowing shopping cart. My aunt was filling it with groceries as she pushed it down the aisles of the old Grand Union on Margaret Street. Every Friday after work he would drive us to downtown Plattsburgh where he could cash his check and pay for the food that would feed us over the next week. Our house sheltered a small platoon of assorted generations. There was my Grandmother, Grandad, two maiden aunts, my dad and me. We were poor, two of us old enough to receive a Social Security check, and like many of the families of the friends I had in the neighborhood we liked to eat. That means that one shopping cart full of food was sometimes not enough to keep us going for a week. By the way, that’s why there wasn’t a lot of money hanging around for fun stuff like dumbbells.
So my dad was serious about conserving the few dollar bills he still had in his pocket when we got back from Plattsburgh on a Friday night. His effort to make his leftover cash meaningful in our lives was a great example to me for how we should conserve air.
Singers are faced with a gargantuan project. Let’s list a few expensive, in terms of air, items that a singer must pay for:
Consonants can cost you a bundle.
“T”s propel air like guns shoot bullets or blanks, depending.
“F”s can fritter tons of air.
“S”s are just as bad as the previous example.
“P”s can be just as penetrating and wasteful as the “T”.
Etc. etc. etc.
So we have a double edged sword to deal with. No one should hide behind the memory of modern victories over consonants and emulate some of my colleagues. Evading the consonants all together gets you off the hook of consonant costs but leaves your listener wondering what the words are all about.
Singing in falsetto at high volume throws a big bundle of air away. It would be like shredding currency into confetti rather than buying the stuff to throw at your favorite Holiday parade with your AMEX card. I did a little dance on this problem in “What’s the buzz”.
There are other vocal technical deficiencies that dump air, but I really want to direct your attention to how I believe Garcia wants to help you establish the most efficient use of the air you inhale. He tells us to do his vocal exercises in every color, volume and key possible to our voices. He gives license to the beginner to add pauses for necessary breaths. He doesn’t explain how to reduce this necessity. Renata, you remember, my voice teacher, knew this to be important. I believe Garcia expected that telling anyone about this fundamental artistic ability would have inspired people of his day to laugh at him. These days I can’t decide whether to laugh or cry when I hear singers run out of breath before they finish a composer’s phrase.
So how do we learn to conserve? We must convert into sound, as we sing, the maximum percentage of the potential energy we create when we pressurize the air in our lungs. Whatever the volume, whatever the color, whatever the notes, whatever the words and whatever the key may be, if we can phonate the exercise or the melody at hand comfortably, we must get to the end of it. We then make it longer. We slow it down, or we add more notes to sing. The time you can sing without coming up for air must increase. As much as I would like to delineate the physics and physiological manipulations that must take place, I don’t have room to do it in a blog. Besides, I know that there is no amount of knowledge of the conservation particulars that will empower a singer to sing a longer phrase. Focusing on only one or two of the many particulars of this conservation game will do no more than ruin the sound being produced. So why risk it? No pain no gain. No risk no reward.
The only way to establish efficiency of air use while you are singing is by tedious practice. The two key factors are quality and duration. Measure the length of time you are singing while you are singing. As you sing the phrase or exercise stay aware of how much air you have left. Try to mark the half way point. Keep going until you run out of air. That is, sing the exercise/phrase and hold the last note to use up the last bit of air. Do it again and again until you find the tempo or number of notes that use up all your air. Sorry, keep a minimum with which to finish the phrase/exercise gracefully. All the while you are doing this timing thing you must pay attention to the sound you are making. Measure it well. It must never be less than really good. Start simply.
For an exercise:
One vowel, one volume and one color. Then do the other vowels and get the same time result. Then do clearer and darker and louder and softer always getting as close to the time result as before. Then start mixing these things together. ie: Clear to dark. Dark to clear. Clear to dark at the mid point and back to clear at the end. Loud to soft. Soft to loud. Well, you get the picture. Mixing everything together while managing to keep your good sound quality is the apex of air management.
For any melody:
Do the same as above with one addition. When you are at the apex of your air management abilities with the melody, you get to add the words. Follow your instincts about how the character you are impersonating would express the words at hand and when you are able to mix all those variables already mastered into making the words vibrate with meaning without speeding up or taking extra breaths, you have reached the apex of technically perfect artistic interpretation. If you find that singing the words make finishing the melody without extra gulps of air impossible, well, you have to know that if you are truly gifted, your gifts will overcome. So don’t give up and try the next trick. Use only the vowels of the words for your interpretation. Follow the consensus between the composer and librettist but only with the vowels. When you can finish your melody with all the various vowels in place, you then have to make war with the consonants. That war is not absolute. It is more like what gardeners do with fancy shrubs, or what gets done to vines belonging to an expensive Bordeaux label. What Michangelo did to that monster block of marble in which he saw David. Those consonants need to be there, but they need to add to your effect on your audience so you can take their breath away, not allow your “T”s and “S”s to take yours away.
Read MoreParallel Pathology
Debbie, you remember, my wife, likes to share her internet surfing discoveries with me. It was a few days ago she sent me a link to an article by Kevin Williamson.
Mr. Williamson’s in depth discussion of a self-destructive pathology stirs up memories of damaged friends and struggles past. The vantage point from my 66th rung on life’s ladder allows me a rather grand overview of the subject in Kevin’s rumination. First, I have to divulge my own enjoyment of the low stakes life style Kevin indicts. I call my happy easy street retirement. You know. That career capping period when one gets to do just about anything he/she can afford. On the climb up my ladder of time I’ve looked forward to retirement with a knot of emotions that included resentment.
Kevin Williamson
I’m glad Kevin admits to that monster’s influence in his own life. Without his personal struggle, he would not have been able to understand or engage resentment with such aplomb in his article.
I know of and have met quite a few analogs of “Mark”, Mr. Williamson’s acquaintance. Like “Mark”, they take, or took, in some cases, satisfaction from the negative effect they once had or still have on the environment which maintains or once upon a time sustained their lives. That environment puts a roof over their heads, food in their stomachs and enough cash in their pockets to let them make enough choices to allow them the opportunity to avoid becoming so irritating or damaging to those upon whom
they have impact, that society is forced to put them out of the way. Our modern society is being evaluated daily as tolerant or intolerant by many measures and one of them is how much damage a “Mark” can do before he must suffer sanction from our society. I’m going to stay away from those social justice weeds around which Mr. Williamson dances so effectively, while I call out everyone who contributes to a parallel artistic pathology.
There is no reality more inspiring of resentment than watching other people live “better” than we do. Once an individual constructs his/her definition of “better” he/she is ready to juggle that specific hot potato. The hot potato issues that inspire resentment are innumerable, but I hope you at least catch the hem of the cape of the masked marauder who hassles everyone’s heart. (For the tenor: I hope you can grasp the principle.) Let me distill my previous resentment statement down to relevance within my career category: There is no reality more
inspiring of resentment than watching another singer get more curtain calls, applause, encores, money, contracts, critical adulation, members in his/her fan club, etc., etc., etc. The generic application of the resentment principle has infinite possible details. After all, it was the downfall of Satan.
Let’s forget about Satan, for now, and get on with my view of Mr. Williamson’s and his bud’s struggle with resentment, something common to all humans, but especially active in the lives of singers.
It’s not just us tenors that suffer the slings and arrows of sociological anxiety. It is a common poison offered to all opera aspirants, and failure to flower into a full-fledged artist is a common prognosis for those incapable of at least some detoxification. It’s a major issue that impacts more than the voice. How does a singer get poisoned? Just like any other human. Let’s see…. Three examples come to mind. If my friends read these pages they may recognize themselves. If they have courage, they may have something to add.
It was a long time ago that Debbie and I met a young man who had a very complicated life. On top of everything, he wanted to be a singer and was studying with a friend of mine. That friend invited me to sit in on a lesson, and I was happy to say that the voice I heard was really, really good, and I had lots of hope that this man’s life would carry him onto the stage. I was so few rungs up my life ladder that I had high hopes I would be singing with this man before I stepped on the rung I had already labeled retirement. Yes, I was arrogant enough to believe I would make it to that rung.
It never happened. I never had the chance to sing with him in an Opera production. The why of it may not be what I see from my perspective, but there was one complication in that man’s life that I knew would be a huge obstacle to his success. Back in the day, his family would trundle him out with pride to sing in mixed company when he was but a mini human. Now, that should not be a bad thing. No doubt about it. One can be an entertainer even just out of diapers. I loved singing in front of people as soon as I discovered they liked listening. The problem for this young man was that he hated it. According to what he let drop in casual conversation, he really hated it. Garcia might have called this a deficiency in his personality. I suggest that it is a function of resentment. Like: “Why should I get up and suffer in front of those people so that they can enjoy themselves?” I’ll leave the full working out of such a problem to psychologists, but this resentment has to be flushed out of the singer, or the “artist” will always resent the audience. There is no way that such an individual will fully flower into a commercially viable joy for the ears.
After one or two more rungs and a few more grey hairs, I received a request from an agent who suggested I take a professorial interest in a singer he had discovered. We did sing together. We sang together before I could even attempt to fulfill my agent’s request. In the fullness of time and one or two rungs latter, we landed in the same Opera House for an extended period. I think our agent suggested to her that I might be useful in her crusade to become an artist. I did my best to upload what I knew to her understanding, and found the transfer to be really difficult. It turned out that I now measure my knowledge download from her as far greater than the upload I hoped to add to her database. Her resentment infection didn’t seem to come from her parents. What impeded my efforts came from the student body and professors of her school days. There was no way that my hopes to hear and see vulnerability displayed on this young woman’s voice and gesticulation were going to be realized if she kept her anger and resentment. I failed, but I kept that to myself while I disseminated my opinion in all directions that this young person was gifted with a wonderful instrument.
Now I come to the singer most relevant to Kevin’s indictment of modern life. I had a student not long ago whom I had hoped I could help vocally. There was definitely a misunderstanding between us. I knew he needed to learn how to sing. He thought I should show him how to sing an Opera. It was one of my war horses, so it shouldn’t surprise me that he would want me to teach him how to do it. The problem was that there were so many technical deficiencies in the young man’s singing that there was no way for him to master the Opera he desired to sing.
His deficiencies don’t make him unique; rather so common that one can suggest he is part of the 99%. This statement may be politically provocative, but it is an understatement of my belief. I think that among the population of the world maybe 99.9999999999999% have no hope of mastering a Rossini Opera. Although not numerically unique, my student was the first example of Kevin Williamson’s well assessed pathology of adolescence un-escaped. My student cordially considered what I thought he needed, and shared with me what he held to be essential. We did not agree. The bottom line turned out to be a calculation that Mr. Williamson put so prettily:
The price of being a little bit of a slacker is not very high in the United States, though the rewards for success can be staggering. Life is pretty comfortable, and you can take six years to finish your bachelor’s degree in art history while working at Starbucks, and it isn’t miserable.
Necessity used to be what forced us to grow up. That was the stick, and sex was the carrot, and between the two of them young men were forced/inspired to get off their asses, go to work, and start families of their own from time immemorial until the day before yesterday. A 20-year-old man with adequate shelter, cheap food, computer games, weed, and a girlfriend is apt to be pretty content. Some of them understand that there is more to life than that, but some do not.
I stubled over an article by Olga Khazan who might have a lot of arguments against Kevin Williamson, but certainly had some advice with which my tenor student would agree.
Olga Khazan
My student did the calculation and came up with the formula that so disappoints me every time I encounter it. It goes something like this: “The job shouldn’t be that hard. I’m not going to do that much work, and if I don’t become a star, che sarà sarà.” That is resentment in action.
Mr. Williamson is wrong to point only in the direction of the USA. America does offer the environment he describes, but the USA is a slacker in comparison to the cushy conditions one can find beyond our borders. After all, none of the students I used above as examples have birth certificates on file in the USA.
Read MoreVigata vagrancy
Debbie, my wife, and I have streamed the last of a series of films that we found available on the internet that were produced for the RAI. We fell in love with being carried away to a real town with a fantasy name: Vigata.
What has this to do with singing? Actually nothing, but after we finished all the Montalbano magic carpets to Sicily available on MHz we decided to watch a “bonus” interview video added to the long list of episodes that carried us one more time back to Italy. We landed in a conversation with the author of the Montalbano books: Andrea Camilleri. This person is almost as interesting and engaging as the stories he wrote. The point of why I want to talk about this microscopically important facet of our lives in retirement is that Camilleri tells Teresa Mannino in that interview a few things that everyone in THE ARTS should know. Some old people really do know things that the young need to hear. Since I don’t ask you to pay for these blogs, I’m not going to ask you to pay the freight to stream the interview.
First: Art is not “Work”.
ROME, ITALY – FEBRUARY 20: Andrea Camilleri attends ‘La Scomparsa Di Pato’ photocall at Alfredo Restaurant on February 20, 2012 in Rome, Italy. (Photo by Ernesto Ruscio/Getty Images)
In an official You Tube clip:
Camilleri says he had fun writing his stories.
I’ll include the captions they inserted on MHz:
Teresa: The one (book or story) you enjoyed writing the most?
Camilleri: No, I always enjoy writing.
Camilleri: If my writing should degenerate into work, I won’t write anymore. I don’t understand those people who say, “Such exhausting work! God, how tiring it is to write!” Relax! It’s certainly less tiring than unloading crates at the central market. Even though I sometimes do get tired, but without exaggerating. I’ve always said that my ideal is the lady on the trapeze.
Teresa: The lady on the trapeze?
Camilleri: Yes, at the circus. She looks beautiful, always smiling, right? She does a triple somersault the whole time smiling, lightly… And she doesn’t show the immense fatigue of the training. Because if she did, she would ruin your enjoyment as a spectator. It’s the same for me. I want to be a trapeze artist. I don’t want to convey the hard work in my writing. And so, I enjoy myself here. Understand? It isn’t work.
About fifteen minutes into the interview Camilleri discusses his manner of instruction for young actors. He has a lovely way of linguistically complicating a very simple principle. Great joy bubbled up in my heart as I listened to this grand “maestro” of the imaginative arts delineate what I believe to be true.
This is a link to a pirate YouTube that is good only for the fact that it is free: You Tube The RAI must have pulled the full interview off its servers. The links in the first You Tube clip do not connect to anything. Money may make the world go round, but I try to make my ideas free.
Camilleri: Attention. An actor has a complex personality, and you must play, not with imposition, because with imposition at the most, you’ll end up a bad copy of yourself. You must be astute. You say “A” with someone so that “B” follows. I don’t think I ever was a teacher. Maybe an advisor. I came from a very severe school…. Horace’s. It’s a totally different way of considering didactics. But I was very severe, very attentive in the selection. But once they became students, I tried to understand, at most, what road they were taking. And on that road, I tried to clarify the doubts that could arise, and pave the way in reaching a result that would mirror their personality while it was being created.
Camilleri was well loved by his acting students, and for good reason. He says that he was very selective in choosing students, but more importantly he says he was concerned to guide the artists under his instructions to use the individual gifts they had to develop their interpretations reflecting that which was already part of their own personalities. It is easy for me to understand that Camilleri was seeking to find the core of the talent with which each actor was gifted. Garcia counted this as the first job of a singing teacher.
Garcia wrote:
“Often one needs an experienced judgement (sic) to recognize in the voice of the student the germ of the true qualities which it possesses. Generally, these qualities are only in the rudimentary state, or well veiled by numerous faults from which it is necessary to free them. The essential point is to first establish the existence of them; one then manages to complete the development of them by patient and orderly studies.”
The phrases “what road they were taking” + “reaching a result that would mirror their personality” and “recognize in the voice of the student the germ of the qualities” + “first establish the existence of them; one then manages to complete the development of them” may seem to you to be completely different ideas. To me they are really the same idea. Garcia’s text directs the teacher to look for and discover the true nature of the vocal gift in each student before doing any technical development of the voice. Camilleri guided each of his students to develop characters for the stage that reflected the various facets of their own personality. I would say that Camilleri wanted each individual actor to use the natural personality gifts they possessed to enlighten the impersonation of any character they were working on. Garcia directs our attention toward vocal gifts, Camilleri points at complicated personality gifts. So what’s the difference? Different parts of the human organism. Camilleri certainly didn’t exclude the vocal gift from his attention, but it is only one small complication.
In that first link, Camilleri tells us all about one of my 10 commandments for an artist. He called his ideal a trapezista. An artist must present a sense of satisfaction and enjoyment while doing the work. An agent once told me that he wished I could make my singing seem difficult when I did auditions, but I refused to take that advice. I expect he knew what he was talking about, but my focus was not on pleasing him or the “Gate Keepers” to whom he wanted to sell me. I wanted to impersonate the tapezista that Camilleri was talking about. I wanted to sing the most difficult music and keep on smiling as if it were nothing. So should you. It is sad that “Gate Keepers” would seem to have a hard time recognizing difficult music without the interpreter ruining the composers intended message by communicating the stress under which the music places the artist. That would not be an artist in my book. More like a used car salesman.
Air – Part 2
So, I’m back.
A proud papa of a tenor just getting his feet wet in the business requested some workout advice for his son. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words so:
The photo belongs to Johns Hopkins University and once came with a very good description of the movement I believe every singer should do if they engage in any physical exercise at all. If a picture is worth a thousand words, what about a video? I found a You Tube that does a great job of speaking to my intent for suggesting this exercise:
There are only two ways to become a master of long phrasing. One is to become a meticulous manager of the air we can get into our lungs, and number two is to make room for as much air as our breathing apparatus can contain. Back in the day before anyone had the chance to tell me I couldn’t do it, I set my sights on both goals.
The Dumbbell Pullover was one of my favorite moves, and it put my rib cage in the best shape I could possibly hope for. I might have liked to have a chassis like Seth Feroce’s, but I knew I had better things to do with my time, if I wanted to sing well.
By the way, girls can profit from this exercise too:
Seth speaks a “real guy” kind of language that I find refreshing and is all about expanding the chest for competitive reasons. I may not use many of his locutions, but I want everyone to know that we are both talking about competing for the attention of an audience. Seth has a competition judging panel in mind:
My idea has nothing to do with attracting the attention of a similar panel one normally has to face in a Music program
No. As important as these gatherings are to the educational institutions that marshal them, they are much less important than crowds like this:
It is in front of these ticket paying populations that your worth is determined, and it can be risky business, but I’m getting a bit off track here.
Let’s get back to basics. Being able to sing a lot of notes before having to take a breath, hopefully between words, is a good thing. The more notes you can sing without needing more air, the longer you inspire your sympathetic listeners to hold their breaths. That’s only one benefit. If you get a few of your audience members to gasp for air while you keep putting notes together in a long phrase, you might get noticed by more people than you think possible. In a sold out La Scala performance the numbers can be outstanding. Let’s face it. You can never be sure that even one bored member on a board of judges will even notice that you started singing.
Making lots of room for air is what I have in mind. You cannot make your rib cage larger, but you can force it to present the largest space for your lungs that the bones will allow by working on the muscles and connecting tissues.
No matter how much effort you put into this or other exercises, it will all be for nothing if you slouch and flounce about while singing. Stand up, hold yourself on your feet as straight and perpendicular to the ground as you can comfortably do so.
Take as deep a breath as you are capable, and proceed to exhale as slowly as possible without letting your rib cage collapse. Keep it up there where you started. When you can no longer cause air to flow out of your system otherwise, only then start bringing down the rib cage, until you run out of capacity. Make this procedure your standard way to sing your phrases, and you will discover that the rib cage collapse will become your standby maneuver. Like a reserve tank for saving you from having to gulp air in the middle of a word. When you come toward the end of a phrase, and you notice that the rib cage is starting to go down, just think of it as your air tank gauge beginning to flash “EMPTY”. So what do you do? Quickly find a convenient point in the phrase, between two words, preferably at a comma. That is where you should breathe.
The old school would have you do this deep breathing exercise with a lit candle just in front of you. The trick was to exhale in a manner that bent the flame over away from you. Oh!! The bigger trick is to keep the flame bent over without a tremble in the flame. The next big trick is to vary the bend in the flame in such a controlled way that it moves, but does not tremble.
The pull over is for increasing your air capacity, and the candle trick is for increasing your control over that air.
I’ll be back. You can call me an Air Head if you want, but most of what our audience hears has to do with our manipulation of air. So it’s always on my mind. How much air we can contain has a personal limit, but we can stretch it.
Read MoreAir – Part 1
More than three years ago I put up a blog: Why Is There Air about air management and included lengthy quotes from Garcia’s book. The Garcia quotes are still there, but the pages on external sites I linked to have gone stale. So let’s have another go at it.
I can find Garcia using the word “air” in the reprint of his first book 101 times. Not once do I see an explanation of what is doing the work of air management. If you want to keep me honest and see for yourself just have a look in the book. My first effort to create an index for the book follows:
The word “air” can be found included once on pages xix and xxvi, four times on xxviii, once on xxix and xxxv, three times on xxxvi, once on xxxvii, twice on xlix, one on l, four on lvi, four on lvii, one on lix, two on lxi, three on lxii, three on lxiii, four on lxiv, two on 6, one on 12, four on 23, one on 24 and 25, two on 26, seven on 27, six on 33, seven on 34, 2 on 35, 2 on 38, one on 39 and 41, two on 42, one on 46, 56, 57, 59 and 60, three on 62, one on 131, three on 134, one on 142, four on 197, two on 198, two on 204, one on 208, two on 212, one on 218 and 219 each. If I missed any, please let me know.
At the top of my blog “Why Garcia” I used a Garcia quote, a snip of which I include here:
It is his method (Garcia’s father) which I have wanted to reproduce by trying to reduce it to a more theoretical form and by attaching the results to the causes.
Garcia sets the goal and I wanted him to achieve it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find Garcia’s explanation of what causes the pressure in our lungs which our breath control abilities are to manage. So what is the source of energy that pressurizes the air in our lungs? While I’m at it, what is the mechanism of fine control,,, breath control, over that pressure which Garcia mandates for mastering his most difficult exercises?
In “Mind Over Matter”, I strongly suggest that students are badly served by instructors who dump physiological data on them and then claim that the data is sufficient for attaining their goals. Such dump and run tactics would be laughable if they were not so tragically common. The quick of mind will be forgiven for forming the question: “So what is Blake going on about, if data is useless to the student?” Data is essential to the teacher. Bad data is damaging to the student, no matter who the teacher is. My website is about handing you the ability to shoulder the responsibility for your voice, essentially becoming your own teacher. Just as I had to live the life of the self-critical seeker of artistic attainment, you must to do the same. So I want you to have all the data I have, so that you can judge for yourself how you are doing.
I believe Garcia put everything he knew into his writings, and my not so quick mind was puzzled by his descriptions of passive breathing and air management. I wanted him to point his finger at something and tell us how the thing he was pointing at was the source of energy that ultimately tickles our ears as delightful vocal sounds. (sound, by the way, is kinetic energy) He did not, and I had to work it out for myself. I had quite a few arguments with opinion holders associated with that un-tenor like mental activity, and am happy to say that I survived the stresses of thinking and the dangers associated with arguments.
Given the slowness of the brain with which I am blessed, I am ever grateful that it is equally relentless. While trudging through the open questions I keep trying to answer, it dawned on me that Garcia may not have been able to answer the questions I posed in paragraph three of this blog. His research into the human voice is part of the fabric of History. That fabric is time specific. What was available to be known was all he could know. I wanted him to know a lot more than I knew, but time is on my side. Knowledge has increased. Garcia could not discuss “Potential Energy” in his 1842 book. That phrase was coined by William Rankine in 1853. “Kinetic Energy” had to wait until 1862 when it was birthed by William Thomson and Peter Tait.
If you slept through most of your science classes, the links above should take hold of your internet surfing hands and drag you on a journey that can get you up to speed. I am pointing my finger of accusation at the diaphragm, abdominal muscles and thoracic muscles. It is in those human sub-systems that we find the source of energy. It is chemical potential energy.
Chemical potential is first used by the diaphragm to execute a diaphragmatic excursion for inhalation. The diaphragm converts potential energy, (burns calories) contracts and shifts downward causing the chest cavity to increase in capacity which lowers the density (lowers the pressure) of the air inside the lungs. This negative pressure is always condemned by ambient air pressure to uniformity/consensus/solidarity with the surrounding air pressure. That condemnation can be evaded, but not for very long. When the mouth, throat and glottis are opened up, to evade death, the air in our lungs submits to the invasion of more energetic air forced down our throats by what? Ambient air pressure is the answer and the momentary higher energetic state it enjoys is gravity produced. (see Gravitational Potential Energy) That potential energy of ambient air pressure converts to kinetic energy in the air as it rushes into our mouths and down our throats into our lungs equalizing that diaphragmatic excursion produced negative pressure in our lungs. We often say that we draw air into our lungs, but no, no, no, not a chance. Gravity produced pressure pushes it into them.
Now that we have our lungs full, we stand ready to convert chemical potential energy in our abdominal and thoracic muscles to produce air pressure in our lungs. We make those muscles contract and squeeze the air in our lungs and when it gets squeezed it increases in pressure which begins to exceed that of ambient air pressure. That pressure goes higher, like, you know, the second we start compressing it, and then it contains potential energy. If we do not close the mouth, throat or glottis, that potential energy would convert to motion (kinetic energy) instantly. Don’t forget to brush your teeth. This rush of air exiting our mouths can be embarrassingly revealing.
We singers are supposed to conserve as much of that potential energy contained in the air in our lungs and convert it into kinetic energy, sound, by a complex process of alternating movement and mechanical manipulation of that pressurized air. This conversion process is what Garcia got to observe with his little mirrors which he describes in his book on pages xxii through xxiv.
What tickles our ears, sound, is the kinetic energy of molecule movements transferred all the way to the molecules adjacent to our ear drums. That energy is transferred from the singer’s pressure converting vocal chords, air molecule against air molecule, all the way to our ear drums. You could say that the singer is engaged in “at distance” drum beating.
So why should singers, tenors least of all, know anything about thermodynamics? I have so much to tell you, and I am already breaking my self-imposed word limit. A thousand words should be enough, but,, so ,,, like,, “I’ll be back.”
Read More