I'll say first that she was a magnificent vocalist with a very
lovely and fluid tone that bloomed at the top
As fine as she was in opera, some exaggerated diction aside,
I enjoy her most in other works by Berlioz, Mendelssohn,
Bach and Handel. Hear ye, Israel is simply put, among the
greatest recordimga ever made. She has a magnifiicent
Inflammatus recorded in 1951 and as lovely a Danny Boy
as can be imagined. True greatness!
Dan I didn't notice you mention her Fanciulla with Del Monaco
from Florence.
Her Mozart had no equal in its time, to my ears, and she sang
the finest Donna Anna I ever heard or saw during the 59/60
Met season. Unfortunately, she sang the worst in my experience
two years later.
I'll keave it at that! ;-(
Bob
The Art of Singing
The Art of Singing Blog is part of the Lively Art of Conversation concerning Opera and Singing. We welcome your participation.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Thoughts on Eleanor Steber from Opera L
I always felt that Eleanor Steber was a victim of simply "bad
timing". She was on the Metropolitan Opera roster during the same period
as Zinka Milanov and Renata Tebaldi (and don't forget about those two
Callas seasons!), and she couldn't hold her own against those titans. With
Milanov on the roster, Verdi was "locked up", and with Tebaldi on the
roster, Puccini was out of the question. I know that Steber had Tosca and
Violetta in her repertoire, but what chance could she have had when Callas
was singing Tosca and Violetta? I loved Steber and I think that in a
different era, she'd have become a real star. Today, she'd be regarded as
an international treasure.
I have to weigh in again here, since you're making odious comparisons.
eleanor was an american who made most of her career in this country,
her rare and most celebrated appearance abroad as a ravishing bayreuth
elsa. in her prime years, she dominated the met's french repertoire, as
well as singing butterfly and a handful of other lyric roles. tosca and
violetta were not in the core of her repertoire. she had made her met
debut in 1940 as sophie, a light role in which milanov, tebaldi and
callas would have been ludicrous. she was the met's first konstanze
and was by far the greatest fiordiligi of her (or any) time. her donna
anna was the gold standard, as the great bruno walter said. she was
a nonpareil arabella, and, of course was the original vanessa, as well
as the met's first marie in wozzeck. i'm afraid that when you entered
this market, you not only confused apples with oranges, but capers
with watermelons. steber, demonstrably had a vastly wider repertoire
than any of the three wonderful singers you cite ..... and you're also
ignoring the reality which some of us recall first hand, that mr. bing
had a predilection for imported european divas (maybe he didn't
know that callas was born in brooklyn). her intemperance offstage
undoubtedly foreshortened her career, but at her best, the steber
career can stand with any. and by the way, her recital and concert
careers totally dwarf the other three artists, none of whom would
have known the brahms requiem from mairzy doats.
dft
timing". She was on the Metropolitan Opera roster during the same period
as Zinka Milanov and Renata Tebaldi (and don't forget about those two
Callas seasons!), and she couldn't hold her own against those titans. With
Milanov on the roster, Verdi was "locked up", and with Tebaldi on the
roster, Puccini was out of the question. I know that Steber had Tosca and
Violetta in her repertoire, but what chance could she have had when Callas
was singing Tosca and Violetta? I loved Steber and I think that in a
different era, she'd have become a real star. Today, she'd be regarded as
an international treasure.
I have to weigh in again here, since you're making odious comparisons.
eleanor was an american who made most of her career in this country,
her rare and most celebrated appearance abroad as a ravishing bayreuth
elsa. in her prime years, she dominated the met's french repertoire, as
well as singing butterfly and a handful of other lyric roles. tosca and
violetta were not in the core of her repertoire. she had made her met
debut in 1940 as sophie, a light role in which milanov, tebaldi and
callas would have been ludicrous. she was the met's first konstanze
and was by far the greatest fiordiligi of her (or any) time. her donna
anna was the gold standard, as the great bruno walter said. she was
a nonpareil arabella, and, of course was the original vanessa, as well
as the met's first marie in wozzeck. i'm afraid that when you entered
this market, you not only confused apples with oranges, but capers
with watermelons. steber, demonstrably had a vastly wider repertoire
than any of the three wonderful singers you cite ..... and you're also
ignoring the reality which some of us recall first hand, that mr. bing
had a predilection for imported european divas (maybe he didn't
know that callas was born in brooklyn). her intemperance offstage
undoubtedly foreshortened her career, but at her best, the steber
career can stand with any. and by the way, her recital and concert
careers totally dwarf the other three artists, none of whom would
have known the brahms requiem from mairzy doats.
dft
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Canto spianata
Broad in its legato, continuous, rigorously appliedrefers only to a largo - very elegant singing with every kind ofcoloration, but severe and devoid of fussy ornamentation - Listen toCaruso's Bois epais and Ombra mai fu, although he injects emotion. Alsocalled the Noble style. The earliest singers sang this style. Itrequires a very beautiful natural sound with a great deal of focus tocarry off well. Kirkby Lunn & Destinn duet
Timbre refers to the “quality” and “color” of a person’s voice. We end up describing timbre in non-scientific language, appealing to other realms and senses. Thus we say that one person’s voice is light, lyric, creamy, or dark, heavy, dramatic. Lot’s of other adjectives are used also “velvety” “brassy” “nasally” “hooty” etc., but some of these may actually be describing vocal faults. When applied to finding a voice classification or voice type, one has to be VERY CAREFUL. Timbre is only ONE criterion in determining voice classification and is one that can be misleading to inexperienced voice teachers. Some classic pitfalls are to assume that a lyric voice is a “high voice” and a dramatic or heavy voice is a “low voice.” This is simply WRONG, because there are lyric basses and lyric baritones just as there are lyric contraltos and mezzos … not just tenors and sopranos. Likewise, assuming that a heavy dramatic voice is low is equally wrong. There are dramatic tenors and dramatic sopranos. I think only an experienced voice teacher can use timbre … and that after other criteria are factored to make an accurate judgment on voice classification.
The other criteria for discovering a person’s voice classification are RANGE, TESSITURA, and TRANSITION POINTS.
Obviously range is going to mark the compass of a person’s singing voice. To choose a classification in which literature demands singing notes outside a person’s range is a clear evidence of wrong classification. If you call yourself a tenor, then you must be able to sing tenor literature. If you call yourself a tenor but cannot sing tenor literature, perhaps the only one deceived is yourself.
But range by itself is also insufficient for arriving accurately at one’s voice classification. “Tessitura” is usually applied to music itself, for example a song. Tessitura indicates the relative AREA of the range where MOST of the notes lie in any given song. Applied to the voice, this means that every singer is going to have an AREA in his/her range in which s/he can sing with greatest comfort, flexibility, expressiveness and STAMINA. E.g., A man may have a range that makes singing high A’s (above middle C) possible, but be uncomfortable sustaining that beyond a moment or two. The ability to linger and enjoy those high notes endlessly simply isn’t there … but he’s most comfortable singing between D (above middle C) and the D below. His tessitura would suggest that while some higher baritone literature may be in order once in a while–allowing for a high A on then off again–his tessitura (the area of his vocal comfort) is more like a baritone’s. The area of the range (tessitura) where a singer predominantly finds most resonance and stamina should be a key ingredient in determining voice classification.
Transition points refers to those notes in the vocal range where there seems to be a natural change of quality. This happens clearly in some singers and not at all in others. Without going into detail on the various voice types, generalizations are made as to where the “changes” occur in each voice classification. While this criterion can be useful (to a limited degree) by an experienced voice teacher, it is advisable to tell you that it is also far from foolproof. Singers can learn to make a transition on any of several pitches. The transition points also tend to vary depending on what vowel is sung. Another problem can be that some student singers who will not accept their real classification adopt a “lift” note of their own desired classification to prove their point. I would say that this criterion is probably used best by an experienced voice teacher on untrained voices.
So, there you have it. Arriving at a person’s voice type entails a knowing and using the criteria of RANGE, TIMBRE, TESSITURA and possibly TRANSITION POINTS.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Canto legato
Legato singing is the acid test of technique. It is achieved by very
steady support, singing on the breath and the net effect is to tie all
the notes together with no break caused by bumps in the air (support)
not the intrusion of any consonant - so the consonants have to be
pronounced quickly and precisely without any excess movement of the
tongue to disturb the air flow. florid singing is produced on the
breath, and requires a steady air flow, and the use of even less breath.
Thought
To perform well in today's highly competitive world where technical skills have been advanced to an unprecedented degree, a singer must be able to handle incredible pressure within the performing arena; his or her ability to deal with this stress will often determine whether he or she will succeed. Why, then, do singers with less technical skill sometimes out-perform stars? Why do some stars suddenly stop performing? What is that mysterious factor that makes an electric performance? Consistent, competent performances do not depend solely upon superior vocal skills, nor are they a matter of luck. On the contrary, the best performances result from a combination of mental attitude, concrete performing skills, and excellent technical skills in that order. Yet most singers have never had the opportunity to acquire the essential skills that make for a successful career.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
More on The Appoggio
Support - how you support affects your sound completely. Many theories abound, but in fact, as you ascend the scale the sensation of leaning descends, with the highest notes being felt lower in the belly, the middle voice in the midsection and the chest, voila - in the chest. Of course this does not speak to the fact that the entire range must be felt as high in the head, but that is usually thought of as resonance.
One needs to research the song
Singers are faced with a unique challenge among musicians: they must express not just the music, but the lyrics too. To effectively communicate the meaning behind the words, singers must understand the many references embedded in the vast international repertoire of great art songs. They must deal with the meaning of the lyrics, frequently in a language not their own and of a culture unfamiliar to them. From Zelter and Schubert to Rorem and Musto, Researching the Song serves as an invaluable guide for performers, teachers, and enthusiasts to the art song repertoire. the meaning of less familiar literary terms, figures, and authors referenced in song while placing songs in the context of larger literary sources. The more performers know and understand the literary elements of a song, the richer their communication will be. Researching a Song is a vital aid for singers and teachers in interpreting art songs and building song recital programs.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Vowel Modification
Today it is science and research that provide the rationale behind the insistence upon vowel modification, but the great voice teachers of the past came to the same conclusions solely by means of acute observation and pragmatic experience. In a questionnaire distributed by the authors of the new Prescriptions for Choral Excellence, published by Oxford University Press in January 2006, choral directors cited the following five elements as the most problematic in their directing experience:
1. Inability to sing in tune in the area of register breaks.
2. Adverse effects of consonant production on tuning and tone quality.
3. Inability to sing at a soft dynamic level without losing the fundamental
of the pitch.
4. Breathiness in the middle register.
5. Inability to “cover” the tone.
It is evident that these same five factors have everything to do with vocal problems in solo singing as well. Vowel modification will contribute to the solution for each of these problems.
(Note: If you cannot see the IPA symbols below, select this version: tongue.pdf [requires Adobe Reader].)
The belief that singers should sing the exact vowel written by the composer is entirely logical. However, to do is not natural to the vocal instrument. A singer whose vocal resonance is even and consistently good from note to note—high or low, soft or loud—is changing the vowels semitone by semitone (whether or not the listener can sense it), and the vocal tract is constantly changing form (whether or not the singer takes note of it.) This cannot be avoided. This is the way the voice works. As Oren Brown, the noted vocal pedagogue reminds us, “Good singers, whether consciously or not, depend on finding an easy adjustment for the pitch. This will be a modification [my emphasis].” Moreover, when voice teachers or choral directors ask their singers to, for example, sing [i] (ee) but drop their jaws while doing it, they, too, are modifying the vowel, for an [i] (ee) sung with a very large mouth will be an [ɛ] (eh).
With the aid of vowel modification singers will have fewer intonation problems, better resonance across their ranges, more carrying power, easier production of forte and piano, clearer diction, and, if choral directors could persuade themselves to use the modification suitable to each section in place of that common vowel indicated for all the voices, a much better blend.
Perhaps this sounds too optimistic to be true. Your doubts will be alleviated by understanding that the described results are governed by the extent to which the tongue controls events of the resonator tube (the vocal tract), and the tongue’s effect on laryngeal efficiency. For optimal results, the tongue tip should rest at the top of the bottom teeth. This position can be taught by saying, “Hmm!” which maneuver will place the tongue tip correctly. Trying to use other tongue postures in an attempt to achieve more resonance does not allow the proper shapes for the vocal tract and creates tongue tension.
Putting the tongue tip at the root of the bottom teeth produces a dull sound.
Pulling the tongue tip up and back distorts all the vowels. Pulling the tongue
back into the mouth forces the larynx into a very low position, delivering
unclear diction and a muddy sound, if a darker one. Pushing the tongue tip
against the back teeth makes for harsh and tinny timbre.
Each inhalation is best executed with the tongue tip on the top of the bottom teeth. Using this position is not difficult and the rewards are great.
Artistic performance is vital, vibrant, and exciting. Certainly, it is dependent upon the human spirit, the musical and poetic imagination, and health, but it also hinges upon the physical events of vibration and resonation that are brought about by certain muscular activities related to the vocal instrument. Non-singers’ tendency is to forget that the voice is a musical instrument, responsive to the laws of acoustics just as any other instrument is. (They probably forget because the human voice is located inside a human body rather than inhabiting a carved piece of wood or a metal housing.) Artistic limitations will result if the proper muscular activities do not become almost reflexive. Insistence upon singing the vowel written on the page will stultify the natural ability of the singer to find the modification that serves the needs of the music. When the vocal tone is correctly formed by acoustical phonetics, the singer avoids many muscular problems, basically hyperfunction and hypofunction, both of which may result in stiffness of parts of the vocal tract.
Stiffness of the singer’s vocal tract can translate into hoarseness, register problems, unacceptable deviations from the pitch, limitations of range, color, and dynamics, poor vibrato, as well as other malfunctions and/or dysfunctions, all of which present the singer, the voice teacher and the choir director with very real problems.
∙ Singers who are suffering from hoarseness caused by the vocal cord erosion
That speech vowels induce will find it difficult to concentrate on the details of their musical and vocal responsibilities.
∙ Singers who are experiencing register problems find it difficult if not impossible to handle the musical and vocal problems that occur at register breaks.
∙ Singers who are chided for off-pitch singing that seems unfixable simply by more acute listening often cannot think of anything other than pitch. (Faults in singers’ hearing are so seldom the root cause for pitch deviations that musicians are often shocked by the fact.)
∙ Singers who cannot handle the high notes or the low notes, the loud notes or the soft notes, well enough to please themselves, their teachers or their conductors usually become disheartened at their own lack of technique and, as a consequence, are incapable of attending to the musical and vocal qualities of their singing.
∙ And so on.
All these maladies have the same result: in the end they will produce a faltering and more or less inept performance. High on the list of appropriate remedies for performance problems is vowel modification.
There is no disputing the fact that modification of vowels inspires much controversy. However, the conviction that modification of vowels is unnecessary does betray a certain ignorance. It is true that singers can sing any note on any vowel, limited only by the physical boundaries of their range, but some vowel forms will have constructive interaction with the vocal cords (aid and amplify their air pressures), and other vowel forms will have a diminishing acoustical interaction (distort and diminish the cords’ air pressures). A bad tone fights with itself; that is, two vibrators interact badly with each other. For example, in stringed instruments the conflict is between a string and the resonator; in the organ the conflict is between the reed and pipe. In the voice, the conflict is between the vocal cords and the vocal tract.1
Needed is an extended method of bringing sung pitch and the resonance of vowels into their best relationship, or, bringing the frequencies of the vocal cords and the vocal tract into concord with the various pitches and vowels. Voice pedagogue Berton Coffin, together with acoustician Pierre Delattre, worked out the practical details of a system that allowed singers to choose the vowel that would give a compatible frequency with the pitch. This system of vowel modification is found on the Vowel Chart that is included with their book, Overtones of Bel Canto.
Those opposed or indifferent to modification include many choral directors and some voice teachers. Pressed for the reasons behind their objections, voice teachers generally cite the seeming mechanistic quality of the method; choral directors cite lack of blend and unclear diction.. Often, in an effort to promote the elusive “blend,” choral directors subscribe to reducing the sound of their singers to the resonance level of the least resonant voice in the group. To encourage clarity of diction they often embrace a theory of using only “pure” vowels, by which they may mean speech vowels.
By avoiding vowel modification as a part of their technical training, voice teachers have ignored a means of producing in their singers a more resonant, carrying tone and a more efficient way of achieving it, not to mention more control over dynamics, and more ease in upper range singing. As for choral singing, holding all choral voices back to the piano level of the least vibrant voice in the group not only produces a less beautiful tone but is actively unfair to and dangerous for the larger, more resonant voices in the group. Dale Moore, noted pedagogue, has this to say: “I would rather have a soprano of potentially operatic caliber serving as part of a cheerleading squad than have her singing in a group where the tonal ideal for a soprano is the sound of a tired English choirboy.”2Paul Kiesgen, celebrated teacher of voice and vocal pedagogy, echoes Moore: “Loud singing with inadequate vocal technique can be harmful....Poorly produced soft singing, however, can be equally harmful....For most voice students, soft singing is the last skill mastered and one of the most difficult to acquire.” 3 The result of improperly produced soft singing is often perilously close to “pushing,” a term usually applied to loud singing.
The following true story illustrates the power of using the constructive interaction of modifications that “beef up” the singers’ formant, which was done here by means of mechanical help. The very same result can be achieved by the singer’s use of correct vowel modification.
As undergraduates in the music department of a western university were preparing to perform in their yearly opera production, former fears about audibility and clear diction were stirred up. The complaints were the usual ones: the young voices were no match for the orchestra and the text was completely unintelligible. Using the new sound system to boost the singers’ voices led only to amplified “booms.”
Then one of the resident voice teachers recalled voice scientist Johan Sundberg’s words about audibility and how to enhance it. If all that is heard from the singer over the orchestra is the singers’ formant range from 2000 to 4000 Hz., why not use the new sophisticated sound system to boost only that range of frequencies? Immediately, the voices could be heard and beautifully. If boosting the singers’ formant frequency made such a difference in the balance, why not add another boost to the consonant/diction spectrum, which lies between 7000 and 8000 Hz.? Again the result was miraculous. Especially advantageous was the fact that boosting only the relevant frequencies took away the listeners’ annoyance at the obvious tonal interference produced by the usual amplification.4
Turning our attention to the practice of singing only “pure” vowels, voice teachers must recognize that, acoustically speaking, speech vowels are not necessarily “pure.” In addition, speech vowels vary considerably depending upon regional accents. The results are, therefore, less than uniform and less than “pure.” Furthermore, those who really understand the vowel issue, acousticians, consider a pure vowel to be the one that delivers ease, beauty, and resonance on that particular pitch. “Vowel purity is the optimum acoustical response for a given vowel.”5 “...the requirements for singing far exceed the demands of speech. Singing is not simply sustained speech spun out over wide-range pitch fluctuations, except in the most simplistic and technically limited vocal styles.” 6
Whereas spoken vowel values vary according to languages and dialects, in singing they cannot depart from the coincidence of a vowel pitch and a harmonic of the sung pitch. This is an absolute of singing. This is one of the reasons why a person can sing a foreign language without an accent but cannot speak it without an accent.7
Acousticians, if not singers, teachers, or directors, understand that both vowels and sung tone have pitch. The pitch of the vowel being sung must be harmonic with the sung pitch, or there wil be a weakening and/or distuning of the vocal cord vibrations. Because even singers themselves must often be persuaded of the advantages that accrue when adopting acoustical vowels, a comparison of acoustical and speech vowels follows:
Acoustical Vowels
Acoustical vowels, wherein the harmonic of the pitch coincides with the pitch of the vowel, produce amplification of resonance and a physiological feeling of well being.
The more ringing and vibrant we wish the voice to be, the more we should use the harmonic values of acoustical vowels.
Acoustical vowels give the voice more size and more carrying power (important to unamplified singing).
Singing with the best relationship of vibrator (larynx) and resonator (mouth) is therapeutic to the throat, the ears of the audience, and the length of the air supply.
Almost always, the use of acoustical vowels in singing produces tones that are in the center of the pitch.
Singers who use harmonic sounds (modified vowels) sing for a long time.
The use of acoustical vowels aids, rather than detracts from the diction.
SPEECH VOWELS
Singers who insist on singing absolute language values that conflict with the written pitches experience as a result discomfort, an out-of-tune tone lacking in beauty, and a serious diminution of the air supply.
The more we approximate the sounds of speech vowels, the more nonharmonic our voices will be.
Speech vowels give the voice a reduction of carrying power (a fact no longer germane to musical theater singers because of the insistence on amplification).
When the most resonant vowel on one particular sung note is found, it is invariably different from the one used in speech patterns.
The use of speech vowels often gives rise to inexact pitches, flat or sharp, that are not controllable, even by a singer’s attentive ear.
Singers who utilize many nonharmonic sounds (speech vowels) do not sing as long, because this practice is physically unhealthy over time.
Contrary to common belief, adherence to speech vowels does not promote clear diction, because of the tonal interference produced by incompatible vowels and pitches.
It is, in short, advantageous to sing with good interaction, where the vocal cords and the vocal tract augment—not fight—each other. Furthermore, this interaction releases the singer’s spirit and energies for that supra-human effort called artistic performance.
The same acousticians hired to correct the deficiencies of a concert hall’s acoustics tell us these facts. When vowels are correctly modified, three advantageous things happen: the singer experiences more comfort; the tone is more beautiful; the air supply lasts longer. When the vowel is incompatible with the sung pitch the opposite happens: the singer experiences anything from slight discomfort all the way to actual pain; the tone is anywhere from slightly less beautiful all the way to actually ugly; the air supply is diminished radically because it takes more air to sustain an inappropriate vowel.
The research done on perceptibility tells us that, when each voice reaches the pitches of its high passaggio, the human ear can no longer tell the difference between that voice singing one front vowel or another, one back vowel or another. So why sing a vowel that is incompatible with the sung pitch (and more difficult to execute) if the listener cannot even tell that you are singing it?
Science Answers the Question: Why Modify Vowels?
Why must vowels be modified, especially for louder, higher, softer, or lower notes (which doesn’t leave much)? Voice pedagogue Oren Brown answers: “It is impossible to maintain one vowel position at all pitches. Vowel modification must be mastered to facilitate a smooth transition from low to high and soft to loud....As a basic rule, the louder or higher, softer or lower a vowel is sung, the more it will migrate...” 8 Although modification is necessary for all voice types, the problem affects sopranos and tenors especially; e.g., in order to reconcile with higher frequencies and intensities of higher and louder tones, a large resonating cavity is needed. A strained larynx will result when this is not provided.
When concerned with intelligible diction as it relates to modification, consider seriously this basic truth: high notes and very dynamically intense notes are usually musical events, not text events, musically effective, not text effective. Experienced composers of vocal music, knowing this, almost always write the text for such a climactic moment twice—first, on lower, easier to execute pitches, then during the climax, on high pitches where the emphasis is on vocal skill rather than diction skills. Insisting on making a text event out of passages with high or loud notes will produce an uncontrolled and unattractive tone. Generally speaking moreover, what the listener wants to hear at those moments is beauty and/or impressive sound.
Difficulties in the upper range of the soprano and tenor voices come about, especially in amateurs and young singers, because the gradual thinning and elongation of the vocal folds increases with ascending pitches. Coping with this issue demands great vocal skills and extra energy in the breath. In the soprano voice, for example, there comes a certain point in the rising pitches when the cricothyroid muscle activity reaches its structural limit. At this point the damping that produces the flageolet (whistle) voice can help the stress on the cricothyroid muscle, because damping allows only the ends of the vocal folds to vibrate with the necessary rapidity. Correct modifications will allow this to happen.
Science has established that the core of the vowel, which itself is achieved by the size of the jaw opening, the shape of the lips, and the position of the tongue, is also the core of the pitch when that vowel is sung rather than spoken. “Each vowel has a quality which is unique to that particular vowel, a quality which names the vowel or makes it what it is. The vowel core, then, is the identifying quality. It is also an acoustical phenomenon; i.e., when the vowel is identified precisely...the resonance chambers of the vocal instrument are immediately re-shaped so that one hears optimum amplification of the basic sound; one has greater volume and potential for dynamic variation, and one has improved intonation and greater ease of production.”9
Often teachers and choir directors believe it simpler to instruct their singers to use one mouth and tongue shape for all vowels. Regarding such a method, Richard Miller states: “...pernicious is the technique of distorting all the vowels throughout the range by assuming some one ideal mouth and pharynx posture through which all vowels must then be produced.”10 This is not productive as a method.
One more fact as noted by Berton Coffin: when the vowels have achieved their best position, breath-coordination problems diminish. According to today’s voice scientists, freedom of function in one part of the vocal instrument induces freedom in others,.
In the last forty years there have been many vocal researchers working on the issue of formant frequencies. Johan Sundberg is especially skilled at presenting this complicated subject in layman’s terms, of which the following is a précis:
The vocal tract resonator has different requirements for the sounds that try to pass through it, depending upon the frequency of that sound. Certain frequencies pass through the resonator easily and, as a consequence, are given a high amplitude....In the vocal tract these resonances are called formants.They and they alone determine vowel quality and donate personal timbre to the voice. Vowel color is determined by the two lowest formants; timbre is determined by the third, fourth, and fifth formants. Tuning the formant frequencies is done by changing the shape of the vocal tract: the jaw, the tongue, the lip opening, the larynx, and the side walls of the pharynx. Adult females have shorter vocal tracts than adult males. Therefore their formant frequencies are 15% higher on average than those of the adult male.
∙ Adjusting the shape of the vocal tract is the most common
method for tuning the formant frequencies.
∙ The first formant is responsive to the jaw opening.
∙ The second formant responds to the tongue shape.
∙ The third formant is responsive to the position of the tip
of the tongue and to the size of the cavity between the
lower teeth and the tongue.
∙ The fourth and fifth formants are more difficult to control by
these means.
The writings of Berton Coffin do not comprise a theory or a method, but present a body of knowledge with explanations of how to do the vowel modifications. Musical notation and phonetics have been substituted for frequencies whenever possible. As such, they show the practical way to a consistently productive way of singing that profits from the research. Coffin also reminds us that an unknowledgeable diction teacher can undo a great deal by ignoring the laws of vibration and resonance. On the other hand, a knowledgeable teacher can accomplish a great deal by obeying the laws of harmonic pronunciation. Inflexible language treatment tends to impair the musicality, expressiveness, and survival of voices. Speech recognition, which all teachers and singers desire, “is dependent upon the changing shapes of the filtering resonator tracts above the larynx....Attempting to exercise direct laryngeal controls causes the articulatory mechanism to malfunction.”11
Thus, the crux of the matter is this: modifications persuade the resonator (vowel) to work efficiently, and, vice versa, when the resonator (vowel) adjusts so as to amplify the sung pitch, the vowels are, in that instant, automatically modified. This explains why singers experience vocal unease and difficulty when asked to sing speech vowels in the more perilous parts of their ranges. If vowel positions are kept in a fixed state rather than modified, the voice will run into and out of resonance points, resulting in a sound that is out of tune, harsh, unfocused, and unsteady in vibrato. Furthermore, it is a truism that critics and audience members are more likely to point out bad sound than they are to mention slight modifications of language values.
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Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Aperto ma Coperto
Open but covered. The sound is forward, but the throat is opened
side to side and front to back, using an opening of the pharynx behind
the soft palate, which increases in function of allowing volume, and
comes more into play as the scale ascends. allowing the higher notes to
go back behind the soft palate after the passaggio to the head voice.
Sculptures by the Sea

An installation titled "Simple Black & White" by artists Alan and Julie Aston is part of the annual Sculpture by the Sea exhibition in Sydney, Friday, Nov. 4, 2011. Over 100 works by local and international artists are on display along a popular beach-side walk. (AP Photo/Rick Rycroft)
Carrying Power
If one disregards stylistic demands, it might be said that opera singing differs from recital singing in only one substantial way, that is, the voice of an opera singer must be audible in a large hall despite the considerable decibel output of an orchestra. A recital singer is required to be audible only above the weaker sound created by a piano, except for those occasions when the modern concert business forces the singer to perform in an unsuitably large hall. Thus, “carrying power” becomes the distinguishing technical characteristic of an opera singer. Indeed, unless the conductor can be persuaded to hold the orchestra down, a singer who lacks a big voice and/or the ability to cut through an orchestra is at a grave disadvantage.
Clearly, the auditory parameters of your voice are more or less determined at birth. Your vocal gift is just that—a “gift” possessing certain proportions. Trying to enlarge a basically slim voice to suit the operatic marketplace, where “large” is venerated by most listeners and many musical colleagues, almost always ends in the tragedy of a lost voice or the loss of high notes and pianissimo.
Yet, achieving a tone with enviable carrying power is not out of the question, regardless of the size of your “gift.” The first step toward understanding is to define our terms carefully. (Vocal language is notoriously imprecise.) Is a rich, deep, large, warm voice synonymous with a voice that carries well? Not necessarily. “Size” is not the defining issue for an opera singer. The annals of opera are stuffed with stories about that type of singer whose voice, judged to be too bright, almost drove the listeners out of the rehearsal room, only to triumph on stage in the performance as the only member of the cast whose tone quality seemed to have infinitely more beauty in the house than in the rehearsal room, and the only singer who could be heard in the top balcony and the back of the hall. Or, what about Tito Schipa, a legendary tenor with a smallish voice, about whom each and every article mentions at some point that “every note of his slender voice could be heard in every seat in the house!”
The next step is to understand what will give carrying power to a relatively small voice--or indeed, to a large voice as well. (Just as a flabby three hundred-pound man is not stronger than a one hundred eighty-pound man who works out, a big voice can be large but flabby and a small voice can be slender but focused!)
With the appearance of the many fine vocal research teams in the United States and abroad, it became evident that there is an overtone, the frequency of which, when present in the singing tone, will permit it to be heard through the sound of the orchestra, none of which instruments can play in this vicinity. That overtone lies somewhere between 2000 and 3000 Hz. The human ear can distinguish this overtone (commonly referred to as 2750, the frequency of “ring”) from a group of other overtones, thus making the listener hear as “louder” the tone that contains it better than he/she can hear a tone that is without it. Listeners’ non-scientific descriptions of a tone containing 2750 include:
“focused” “centered” “packed with beauty” “full of tone” “visceral”
“slender, but with great tensile strength” “satisfying” “clear” “strong core”
This “ring” can be maintained by the singer regardless of the vowel being sung and regardless of the dynamic level. It is not a figment of someone’s imagination. It is visible on the graphs. On the printout one can clearly see anomalies such as the momentary loss of the overtone or its presence throughout an entire small slide upwards during the attack of a particular high note. Singers vocally gifted in such different ways as Birgit Nilsson and Edita Gruberova have a very strong showing of this overtone. One could say that this overtone is somewhat more valuable for men than for women, because men sing in the pitch area where the orchestra plays most of the time. Women’s voices of the lower fachs spend a lot of time there as well. But a poor high C will actually carry as well as a good high C, more’s the pity.
Now....how to do it?
Those same acousticians hired to correct the deficiencies of a concert hall’s acoustics tell us some facts. When the vowel being sung is compatible with the sung pitch, three wonderful things happen: the singer experiences more comfort; the tone is more beautiful; and the air supply lasts longer. When the vowel isincompatible with the sung pitch, the opposite happens: the singer experiences anything from slight discomfort all the way to actual pain; the tone is anywhere from slightly less beautiful all the way to really ugly; the air supply is diminished radically because it takes more air to sustain an improper vowel. The three attributes of the compatible vowel result in a more easily produced, more focused tone, which carries farther without using the forced air of brute strength.
Do these facts suggest that resonance is a more important factor than loudness?
Which vowels, therefore, should we modify? Modify to what? On what pitches?
The answers to these questions are fairly complex. A simple answer would tell you that, in general, a forward vowel will carry better than a back vowel. In general, back vowels can be encouraged to sit further front than their natural position, which is centered in the back of the tongue. In general, a vowel sung with protruding lip corners will carry better than one with the lips stretched laterally. In general, a largish mouth opening will make more noise—all other factors being the same—than one with a smallish mouth opening. In general, the lower the entire tongue sits, the more diffused the sound, even though richer. In general, the higher the pitches one must sing the less useful a real [ɑ] is. (An eminent Italian baritone said to a student of mine that the secret of singing is “never sing ah”?) The pitches in the passaggio of every voice category in general respond better and more efficiently when sung more “narrowly” (front tongue position, smallish mouth opening, protruding lips). In general, the higher and fronter the tongue position, the more carrying power the tone will have and the easier will be both the forte and pianissimo notes.
The perceptibility tables tell us that, in general, when each voice reaches the pitches of its high passaggio, the human ear can no longer tell the difference between one front vowel than another, or one back vowel and another. So why sing the vowel that is incompatible with the sung pitch (consequently less beautiful and more difficult to do) when the listener cannot tell that you are singing it? Just modify one type of vowel with the same type although different, i.e., change an [i] that is not working to an [ɛ] or [œ], an [I] or [Y], an [e] or [ø], not to a vowel from another series.
Initiate some of the above generalities into your own singing and see how you will achieve greater resonance and carrying power with less effort. Louder is not necessarily the answer. Resonance and carrying power— thanks to 2750—are. Choose your vowels with these ideas in mind.
Clearly, the auditory parameters of your voice are more or less determined at birth. Your vocal gift is just that—a “gift” possessing certain proportions. Trying to enlarge a basically slim voice to suit the operatic marketplace, where “large” is venerated by most listeners and many musical colleagues, almost always ends in the tragedy of a lost voice or the loss of high notes and pianissimo.
Yet, achieving a tone with enviable carrying power is not out of the question, regardless of the size of your “gift.” The first step toward understanding is to define our terms carefully. (Vocal language is notoriously imprecise.) Is a rich, deep, large, warm voice synonymous with a voice that carries well? Not necessarily. “Size” is not the defining issue for an opera singer. The annals of opera are stuffed with stories about that type of singer whose voice, judged to be too bright, almost drove the listeners out of the rehearsal room, only to triumph on stage in the performance as the only member of the cast whose tone quality seemed to have infinitely more beauty in the house than in the rehearsal room, and the only singer who could be heard in the top balcony and the back of the hall. Or, what about Tito Schipa, a legendary tenor with a smallish voice, about whom each and every article mentions at some point that “every note of his slender voice could be heard in every seat in the house!”
The next step is to understand what will give carrying power to a relatively small voice--or indeed, to a large voice as well. (Just as a flabby three hundred-pound man is not stronger than a one hundred eighty-pound man who works out, a big voice can be large but flabby and a small voice can be slender but focused!)
With the appearance of the many fine vocal research teams in the United States and abroad, it became evident that there is an overtone, the frequency of which, when present in the singing tone, will permit it to be heard through the sound of the orchestra, none of which instruments can play in this vicinity. That overtone lies somewhere between 2000 and 3000 Hz. The human ear can distinguish this overtone (commonly referred to as 2750, the frequency of “ring”) from a group of other overtones, thus making the listener hear as “louder” the tone that contains it better than he/she can hear a tone that is without it. Listeners’ non-scientific descriptions of a tone containing 2750 include:
“focused” “centered” “packed with beauty” “full of tone” “visceral”
“slender, but with great tensile strength” “satisfying” “clear” “strong core”
This “ring” can be maintained by the singer regardless of the vowel being sung and regardless of the dynamic level. It is not a figment of someone’s imagination. It is visible on the graphs. On the printout one can clearly see anomalies such as the momentary loss of the overtone or its presence throughout an entire small slide upwards during the attack of a particular high note. Singers vocally gifted in such different ways as Birgit Nilsson and Edita Gruberova have a very strong showing of this overtone. One could say that this overtone is somewhat more valuable for men than for women, because men sing in the pitch area where the orchestra plays most of the time. Women’s voices of the lower fachs spend a lot of time there as well. But a poor high C will actually carry as well as a good high C, more’s the pity.
Now....how to do it?
Those same acousticians hired to correct the deficiencies of a concert hall’s acoustics tell us some facts. When the vowel being sung is compatible with the sung pitch, three wonderful things happen: the singer experiences more comfort; the tone is more beautiful; and the air supply lasts longer. When the vowel isincompatible with the sung pitch, the opposite happens: the singer experiences anything from slight discomfort all the way to actual pain; the tone is anywhere from slightly less beautiful all the way to really ugly; the air supply is diminished radically because it takes more air to sustain an improper vowel. The three attributes of the compatible vowel result in a more easily produced, more focused tone, which carries farther without using the forced air of brute strength.
Do these facts suggest that resonance is a more important factor than loudness?
Which vowels, therefore, should we modify? Modify to what? On what pitches?
The answers to these questions are fairly complex. A simple answer would tell you that, in general, a forward vowel will carry better than a back vowel. In general, back vowels can be encouraged to sit further front than their natural position, which is centered in the back of the tongue. In general, a vowel sung with protruding lip corners will carry better than one with the lips stretched laterally. In general, a largish mouth opening will make more noise—all other factors being the same—than one with a smallish mouth opening. In general, the lower the entire tongue sits, the more diffused the sound, even though richer. In general, the higher the pitches one must sing the less useful a real [ɑ] is. (An eminent Italian baritone said to a student of mine that the secret of singing is “never sing ah”?) The pitches in the passaggio of every voice category in general respond better and more efficiently when sung more “narrowly” (front tongue position, smallish mouth opening, protruding lips). In general, the higher and fronter the tongue position, the more carrying power the tone will have and the easier will be both the forte and pianissimo notes.
The perceptibility tables tell us that, in general, when each voice reaches the pitches of its high passaggio, the human ear can no longer tell the difference between one front vowel than another, or one back vowel and another. So why sing the vowel that is incompatible with the sung pitch (consequently less beautiful and more difficult to do) when the listener cannot tell that you are singing it? Just modify one type of vowel with the same type although different, i.e., change an [i] that is not working to an [ɛ] or [œ], an [I] or [Y], an [e] or [ø], not to a vowel from another series.
Initiate some of the above generalities into your own singing and see how you will achieve greater resonance and carrying power with less effort. Louder is not necessarily the answer. Resonance and carrying power— thanks to 2750—are. Choose your vowels with these ideas in mind.
Monday, November 07, 2011
Scuola di canto Italiana
Sometimes Italian School merely refers to beautiful singing in the
belcanto style.
The Italian School ie: OLD Italian school - the Italians first figured
out how to add range to the voice by allowing the larynx to descend as
you ascend in range. Until that discovery people sang with a larynx that
raised (a natural occurrence) which limited their top, and music was
written in a limited range to reflect that fact.
Sculptures by the Sea

Screwing By The Sea by artist Poul Baekhoj is seen as part of the Sculpture by the Sea outdoor exhibition along the Bondi to Bronte coastal walk on November 4, 2011 in Sydney, Australia. (Photo by Lisa Maree Williams/Getty Images)
Tone vs. Diction
It is axiomatic that singers feel misunderstood by outsiders, that is, by non-singers at large and even by other musicians who do not sing. Not only do singers feel misunderstood, they are misunderstood. How does this come to be?
The human voice has the capacity--as does no other musical instrument--to express not only music but also drama and literature. For this reason, study of the vocal instrument becomes not just technical and mechanical but also human. To be sure, the vocal cords function on a subconscious level and are best controlled indirectly, often through imagery. It is this fact that makes vocal training highly intimate and convinces other musicians that the personal nature of vocal pedagogy is an object of ridicule. (“What does that mean: send it up and over?” non-singers say with heavy sarcasm. “Send what? Over where?”)
To be fully rounded artists, singers must use their voices as musical instruments and also as a means of communication. The musical use of the voice necessitates a knowledge of how to maintain ideal conditions for a constantly beautiful and musical tone. In contrast, the communicative use of the voice requires a command of ever fluctuating symbolic sounds (consonants) that are often noisy. Because singers must do both things at once, the art of singing is essentially contradictory. Herein hangs the tale.
The great voice teacher William Vennard said this: Exactly in the middle—halfway between the entertainer who disdains music that is “classical,” and the ivory-tower instrumentalist who disdains music that is “programmatic”—sits the poor singer of serious music. Affronted by hearing highly successful entertainers (classified by the public as “singers”) break every rule of good singing and good music, the real singer often does not make peace with the fact that such an entertainer concentrates mostly on diction and dramatic projection, the non-musical elements of the craft. On the other hand, hearing some pure musicologists deride “second-rate” composers like Berlioz for writing descriptive music, they are perplexed. For their music, inextricably wedded to words, is by its very nature programmatic. What else could it be?
Those composers who were the great writers of vocal literature had believed that poetry and drama went hand in hand with music. After a while, this view was no longer held by composers of vocal music, as they struggled to extend the peripheries of compositional techniques. Many began to regard singers and their audiences as a nuisance and an impediment. An electronic sound that imitated a human voice would give less trouble, they believed. Moreover, the dissonances now primarily used by composers made difficulties for singers, whose singing in tune depended solely upon their ears. Clearly, the singer has no geographical references for pitch: no frets, no valves, no keys, and only a few singers have perfect pitch (the possession of which is debatably not an asset for a singer). Despite this, many singers managed to accustom their ears to the new music and excel in its execution. Today, in a development most welcome to singers, new music’s latest identity has begun to shift its viewpoint back toward dramatic sincerity, considering music and text to be equally responsible for meaningful vocal music.
Is one element—beautiful tone or intelligible diction—more important?
We see that singing is a paradoxical enterprise. It can flourish only when beautiful sounds issue from the singer’s throat, but those beautiful sounds must be accompanied by an illumination of the meaning behind the sounds. Yet the consonants that help accomplish the meaning often pose a real threat to the beauty of the sounds.
The singer’s indefatigable quest for a higher level of expression defines the basic elements of singing. They are two: the musical element of the voice (accurate, sustained vowels) and the expressive communication of speech (well-defined consonants). Singers and their teachers seek a diction that is as clear as speech. Truthfully, however, that diction will give only the illusion of being the same as speech; it must be quite different in actuality. William Vennard’s felicitous phrase explains, “To sound ‘natural’ will require studied artifice.” My way of teaching that “studied artifice” is what this article is about.
How to achieve Vennard’s “studied artifice”
In my view, the first principle is this: It is very easy to have what is known as good diction while singing poorly; the real trick is to have good diction while not letting it interfere with good singing. Such skill is not easy to come by. It is not enough to heed the coach’s frequent admonition to “just spit it out,” or to “sing on the consonants” (Robert Shaw’s immortal words), or to “relax; it’s just like speaking on pitch.” Singing is not like speaking. For one thing, experiments have proven that the consonants [b, d, f, h, s, t, v, m, z] average .058 seconds each in speech and .108 in song. The semi-vowels [l, m, n, r] average .145 in speech and .354 in song. Vowels average .280 seconds in speech and .797 in song. Think of the consequences of these facts. N.B. You will note that I am using the IPA symbols for the vowels, but not for the consonants. To be frank, one can live without the IPA consonants, but not without the vowels
For all practical purposes, consonants represent the singer’s biggest problem of articulation. The consonants used for purposes of everyday speech are simply not precise enough to be used for singing, especially in American English. Also, remember that the emphasis placed upon a legato line is not a voice teacher’s whim; it is crucial to the demands of good singing. This is why the prime tenet of bel canto is legato. Yet, the greatest barrier to achieving a legato line is the presence of consonants. Why? Think about it. Consonants close your mouth (which ought to be open most of the time). Consonants tense the tongue (which ought to be relaxed most of the time). Most consonants stop the air flow (which definitely ought to be moving all of the time).
Yet we must allow consonants to sound in order to have intelligible words, one of our singing objectives.... What is the answer?
SHORT but ENERGIZED!
The consonantal movement must be short and rapid, not tentative and extended. In addition, the gesture must be energized, not lackadaisical—in sum, a fast, energized movement of the tongue or lips or any combination thereof.
For the most part, we singers are not equipped to do such precise movements without training. The sooner singers bite the bullet and learn to do the requisite movements in the proper fashion, the sooner they can hope to become skillful singers. One of my students reported to me that her famous Boston teacher had preached, “You must train that naughty tongue to do your bidding!” This study of consonants cannot be avoided, but it can easily be postponed. Not a good idea for a professional singer.
Now to the specifics. They are onerous and sometimes boring, but absolutely necessary.
Don’t move the jaw unless absolutely necessary.
The first skill to be learned is how to snap the tongue rapidly and energetically to the proper area of the palate without necessarily moving the jaw, which would of course change the resonance and the beauty of the tone. The consonants most used in the three major languages of singing are
t, d, n, l, and r.
These consonants all touch the palate at the alveolar arch, preferably between the upper front teeth and the arch. (You don’t know where that is? Run your tongue from inside bottom of your upper front teeth to the inside top of them. As the tongue leaves the top of the teeth it touches the bony arch running behind the half circle of teeth. This is the alveolar arch.) Try the following to clarify the issue for yourself. Make a medium-sized mouth opening. Leaving the jaw where it is, bring the tongue up to the space in front of the alveolar arch and articulate the consonant l. For the five consonants listed above, it is almost not necessary to close the jaw at all (except when t and r need a little jaw closing because the mouth for the vowel has been very open). To move only the tongue—not the jaw—is a skill that is utterly necessary to learn.
Unless singing in a dialect (as do the characters in Copland’s Tender Land, for example), refrain from using the stopped t. That’s the characteristically American one that makes no sound at all. With the stopped t the tongue just hits in front of the alveolar arch and releases silently. This, by the way, is the difference between Americans and the British saying, “I saw it.” When the Brits say this, one hears the t.
Which consonants do or do not require the jaw to close?
The second skill is to explore exactly where each consonant (other than the aforementioned t, d, n, l, and r ) is located and which muscles do it. Incidentally, remember that the consonants found in the English alphabet are not all that must be mastered. Certainly German and the Slavic languages contain others that you must include in your examination. Remember also that, although the consonant may be spelled differently, the sound is often the same, e.g., schin German and sh in English are the same sounds, as in the words Fleisch and flesh. Dispensing with the arcane phonetic terms (palato-fricative, or some such) makes your work a bit easier. Just examine your speech movements and group together in your personal lexicon all consonants that are executed in the same physiological fashion. The following is a practical list:
With k and g the tongue strikes the middle of the palate. They do not need
a closure of the jaw to execute. (E.g., cat, got)
B, m, and p need only a closure of the two lips, b and p being plosive and m
actually sustaining a tone. (E.g., by, my, pie) Although it feels unnatural,
these consonants can be pronounced by bringing the lips together,
but without shutting the jaw, if it is necessary for the tone quality.
W requires a closing of the lips, but without so much pressure. (E.g., witch)
Watch that you do not sing the wh (e.g., which) sound in the same way
that you sing the w sound. These two words (which and witch) are not
pronounced alike. (It is not witch witch.) In the wh sound the lips do not
touch. Air is blown between them. These consonants require a closing if
the vowel has been extremely open, but can be executed without closing.
J (or soft g) and the ch sound require the tongue to strike the palate slightly in
front of the place where k does. (E.g., job, gypsy; charm, chop)
The sound for s is achieved by raising the front half of the tongue close to
the palate, touching the sides of the tongue to the upper teeth, and blowing
air between the tongue and the palate. Z does the same thing, but adds
sound to the blowing air. (E.g., seat, zero) The jaw must close.
The sounds for sh (e.g., shall, sharp) and for zh (e.g., pleasure, azure) are exactly
the same except for the fact that the zh is accompanied by sound whereas
the sound for sh is unpitched. The jaw must close.
The sounds for written x and cks are both in reality a k sound followed by an s,
actually ks. Since it is virtually impossible to pronounce an s without
closing the jaw, both consonants must be done by closing. (E.g., six,
sticks) A variation would be in the word asks where the ks is preceded by
another s, producing sks. These combinations are also found in German.
F and v are the same consonant, f being without sound, and v having pitch. They
are both executed by closing the jaw minimally, touching the upper teeth
lightly against the lower lip, and blowing the air through the remaining
space for the f but not for the v. (E.g., fairy, very)
The n, ny, and ng sounds differ slightly. With n (e.g., not) the tongue strikes the
palate just behind the teeth. With the ny sound (e.g., onion) the tongue
strikes in the same place as with n and then rolls a little back on the palate
for the y. For ng (e.g., hung) a good part of the tongue plasters itself to
the palate at about the halfway mark, effectively stopping the tone from
going on through the mouth, and sends it on a detour through the nose.
The normal h sound (e.g., happy) is made in the larynx itself, but the hu sound
(e.g., Hugh, humor, hue, huge) is made by putting the tongue in an [i]
position and blowing air through the space, followed by a [u]. Do not
confuse this sound with the current popular pronunciation of the four
words above (as pronounced: You, yumor, yoo, yuge), which changes the
hu into a simple y. This is not only wrong but also vulgar. No closing of
the jaw is necessary.
The German ch sound after a vowel
(Note: If you can't see the IPA symbols below, select this version of the article: diction.pdf [requires Adobe Reader].)
In German, the final ch of words such as ich and ach follows the tongue position
of the preceding vowel. If singers who do not speak German would follow
this rule, these particular consonants would not be such a pesky task for
them. Moving from front to back of the palate, this is the drill:
ich: put the tongue on the [I] vowel and blow air above the
tongue without moving it.
ech: put the tongue on the [ɛ] vowel and blow air above the
tongue without moving it.
ach: put the tongue on the [ɑ] vowel and blow air above the
tongue without moving it.
och: put the tongue on the Italian [ɔ] vowel and blow air above
the tongue without moving it.
auch: put the tongue on the [u] vowel and blow air above the
tongue without moving it.
Try it. The whole trick is not to move the tongue from the vowel while blowing the air.
Italian double consonants
The flavor of the Italian language comes from the double consonants. Non-Italians must pay close attention to executing these double consonants accurately. To do this is a rhythmic problem. Let’s use the word spaghetti spoken in three quarter notes to illustrate. The second quarter note on the syllable ghemust also accommodate the double [t] of the last syllable. That is, the double consonant is given a somewhat longer duration than the vowel [ɛ]. Once the [ɛ] is articulated, go immediately to the double [t], opening to the syllable [i] exactly on the third quarter note. Effectively, this gives you three equal durational values: SPA GHETT I. The double consonants are not stronger, just longer.
Does it matter to the diction where the consonant is in the word?
Consonants occur in one of three possible positions:
1. initial consonants of the words, especially the first word of the phrase,
2. consonants beginning or ending words in the middle of the phrase,
3. consonants that end the word, especially the last word in the phrase.
1. Initial consonants
When starting a phrase with a word that begins with a consonant, do not prepare the consonant. Instead, prepare the vowel position with your mouth, then inhale, mouth retaining the vowel position. Then, on the beat, snap your tongue, lips, or lips and teeth—with whatever movement the consonant demands—to the consonant, rapidly and energetically, but not in a sustained gesture. (E.g., with the words Caro mio ben, prepare the [ɑ] position, inhale in that position, let only the center of the tongue make the k sound without changing the [ɑ], and attack the note.) What do you achieve doing it this way? An easier attack, a better tone, less tension, clearer diction. N.B. See Placido Domingo’s Mozart CD for a clear exposition of this technique.
2. Interior consonants
Those final consonants that occur in the middle of the phrase are always delayed until the very last moment and then attached to the next word as swiftly and energetically as possible.
Example, Joan and Bill stood easily. (Imagine a quarter note for each syllable.)
Sung: Joa.....nan....d[ə]Bi....ll[ə]stoo....dea...si....ly.
Note the schwa, [ə]--a very short “uh” sound without much character--inserted after each sounded consonant. Why do we do this? In English, German, and Russian, languages which are famously full of more consonants per square inch than Italian, Spanish, or French, the real problem in deciphering sung words is that (given the obligatory legato) we sometimes cannot tell where one word ends and the next begins. A schwa [ə or ʌ] sounded on pitch (after consonants that have pitch, e.g., d, b, m, l) or unsounded (after consonants that have no pitch, e.g., t, p, k, f) will separate the two words, such as an....d [ə]Bill. Without the schwa, it might sound vaguely like handbill or something else. So consonant clusters at the end of one word and consonant clusters at the beginning of the next word must not be bunched together without a schwa. The schwa will help the listener to separate one word from another and to comprehend the sentence. In the case of the unsounded schwa, the empty space between words will have the same effect.
Example, Both of them took their time. (Quarter note for each syllable)
Sung: Bo....tho....v[ə]the....m[ə]too....k[ə]thei.....rti....me[ə].
Note the unsounded schwa between the k of took and the th at the beginning of the word their. There is no tone, just barely audible air noise in the schwa, but the space does the job: it separates the two words so that the listener can comprehend.
Remember: however strange and unnatural this feels and sounds to you, you cannot judge its efficiency until you ask a listener to tell you whether or not he/she heard the word. That is the proof.
The British, it must be said, do not look kindly upon schwas. That is their prerogative. However, I find that their singing without schwas (often somewhat ineffectual) supplies one of the reasons why they tax their voices when singing loudly and sonorously. (Even the Italians, who do not admit the existence of the vowel schwa, adopt schwas when singing in their own language. E.g., on the last page of Alfredo’s Traviata aria, I have yet to hear an Italian tenor sing the wordsin cielo without executing them in this way: in[ʌ]cielo.) To do this well, the schwa must be executed (not à la Liza Minelli--home [ɑ..ɑ..ɑ..ɑ..ɑ.] with a lengthy, wide open [ɑ] after the m of the word home) but as an extremely rapid [ʌ or ə] on pitch. What pitch? The pitch on which the vowel was sung. The pitch will carry; a noise will not.
Listening to pop singers invariably singing a word starting with a vowel as a glottal, we have begun to believe that is the only thing to do. Personally, I am not a fan of this many glottals. My rule is this: if eliding the last consonant of one word to the vowel beginning the second word creates another word, then a prudent glottal will help to clarify. Otherwise, do not do it, unless some unwritten edict makes this maneuver sound un-English or un-American. Use your instincts to make this decision. In general, try not to pepper your singing of English with glottals.
So the rule holds: When the first word ends with a consonant or a consonant cluster and the next word begins with a consonant or a consonant cluster (e.g., and strong), your job is to put a schwa between them (on the pitch of the last vowel of the first word) and move rapidly through the consonant(s) at the beginning of the next word to the vowel of that word. If the second word begins with a vowel (e.g., and I), then the final consonant of the first word and is attached to the vowel of the second word ( a....ndI). This accomplishes two important things. We understand the words better, and it is the vowel that is elongated, not the consonant. Thus the singing itself improves.
3. Final consonants
For the very last consonant in a phrase, it is important for you to understand the following principle. Especially in English and German texts, but also true for Italian and French, we do not fully understand any phrase until the last word has been uttered or sung. This means that comprehensibility often hangs on the last word. In order for the audience to understand the phrase, the singer must sing a clear last word; in order for the audience to understand the last word, the singer must sing a very clear last consonant.
Singers often labor under the misapprehension that it is the first consonant in a word that must be attended to. Coaches, in their effort to help with diction problems, often pursue this route—generally to little effect. For it is not the first consonant in any word that must be totally clear; it is the last one. This is an inviolable principle of the English and German languages.
Thus, the same principles as articulated in section 2., Interior Consonants, apply here. If the final consonant has pitch (e.g., d, b, m, n, z, etc.), it should be followed by a tiny schwa on the pitch of the last note. If the final consonant does not have pitch (e.g., p, t, f, s, k, etc.), it will be necessary to execute a triple strength spurt of air to accompany the unpitched consonant. Anything less will not carry.
Some other options with consonants, or how to handle consonants on high pitches
For the most part, the lower the pitch for a vowel that comes after the consonant, the easier that note is to execute (a fact that pop singers take total advantage of). The opposite is also true: the higher the pitch for a vowel that follows a consonant, the more difficult it is to sing it, not to mention making it intelligible. That is, on high notes preceded by a consonant one generally has this option: one can be understood, or one can make a beautiful sound. In truth, in a moment defined by a very high note, the word scarcely matters to the listener. The sheer sound of the vocal tone itself carries that moment. Furthermore, it is the composer who must anticipate the problem that will be caused by the word written on the high note. If the composer is well versed in writing for the voice, he/she will do what Mozart did—that is, not write a word that is crucial for the understanding of the plot only on that one high note. Instead, he/she will have repeated that word many times before the high note, and reserved the high note moment for tone, not import. Douglas Moore of Baby Doe fame once apologized to me for creating such a dilemma for the leading soprano in an earlier opera of his, saying, “If I had known then what I know now, I would not have allowed the audience’s understanding of the drama to hinge on that one word. I would have preceded that high B on the word kill (!!!) with several other repetitions of the word kill on lower notes. Then you would have been free to just sing the B to the best of your ability.”
“Fudging” and/or lengthening the consonant
When faced with the problem of a very high note that is being ruined by a consonant (assuming there have been other repetitions of the word previously or will be repetitions later) the singer can panic, or “fudge” the consonant and modify the vowel, or he/she can do what might be called the “Pavarotti trick.” At one time in my teaching life, a student of mine was accorded the privilege of working with Pavarotti each morning for several weeks. In the afternoon this student would come to me, and I would ask for the precious details of what The Great Man had said. In this way, I learned that Pavarotti had insisted that the student put the consonant on the lower note that preceded the high note and then go directly to the high note in a great leap of air. He called this “landing piano on the high note.” By that, I assume he meant gently. And, indeed, it is so easy to accomplish that it does feel like a gentle onset.
It is, of course, a rhythmic problem. For, if you wish to put the upcoming consonant on the preceding note, the time for executing that consonant will have to be subtracted from the preceding note. The vowel of the following high note will have to open right on time. For example, imagine a skip from F to B flat on two quarter notes. Words: O, God. Executed in the “Pavarotti” style, it would become O,GGG......od, with a closure of the consonant G to the palate on the F and an opening of the vowel [ɔ] on B♭. In other words, the G of God would come on the F, and the B flat would have only the vowel [ɔ]. Try it. It is unmistakably what Pavarotti does in his own singing. Remember how everyone admires the clarity of Pavarotti’s “diction.” Listen to a recording. He does “the trick” before every high note. The skip to the high note sounds very easy and gentle. The diction is clear as a bell, because this technique makes the low pitch consonant more audible than if it were put on the higher note.
There is a further plus accrued to the vocal tone when putting the consonant on the lower note before a skip upwards. A plosive which is lengthened will give higher pharyngeal pressure, thus giving the higher note more chest content and, therefore, a darker, stronger quality. The plosives g and k (center of the palate), t and d (in front of the alveolar arch), p and b (lips together), will give, when lengthened and placed on the lower note, a stronger, darker, more cutting tone. In contrast, the consonants m and n, when lengthened, will produce a tone lighter and more heady on the following tone. Consider what result you would like to achieve, and choose accordingly.
Lengthening the consonant has another purpose in artistic singing--not just a vocal technical one. That is to produce a more expressive word when desired. For example, in Schubert’s “Nacht und Träume” the word stille is repeated two times at the end of what might be called the first verse. Lengthening thesh sound on the second stille creates an expressive, meaningful moment that is very lovely. Extending an s or an f or any of the various chs has the same result. The moment seems to reveal a personal speech pattern and thus appears to heighten the sincerity of the singer. If you want to hear such a technique at work, listen to any song sung by Fischer-Dieskau with the music before you. In adopting this skill, the vowel may begin slightly late. As long as the effect pleases you and doesn’t annoy a conductor, go for it.
Back to the issue of “fudging” the consonant before a difficult note. An example would be this. Using p, b, m, v, or f, all of which must touch the lip to the teeth or the lips to each other, simply do not touch whatever is supposed to be touched. Just come close to closing, but don’t touch. The listener will intuit what word is intended, especially if the composer has done a good job. (See any of Giuseppe Verdi’s arias.)
Context as an aid to diction
Another principle: Context helps us listeners to understand the words. There is no doubt about this. Think of the last time you went to the theater. There is no way that you understood every single word. You guessed successfully at several of them because you comprehended the context. However, in songs and opera texts, some poetry and prose is written in an arcane fashion and requires time to study to comprehend the meaning—which time is not available to the audience. For example, T.S. Eliot’s poetry is difficult even for those who speak English. Rock poetry or Woman’s Day poetry may speak to its audience, but it is not difficult to fathom on first hearing. The language of this poetry is—in that most useful 20th century word—“accessible.” Adding inaccessible text to bad diction will produce a disaster. This means that the audience will probably have a lot of trouble understanding the T.S. Eliot (or other difficult) poetry even when sung withexcellent diction. To a singer, poetry that is too deep, requiring long and concentrated attention, is a handicap. And also to the composer, and to the poets or authors, many of whom do not wish their words to be used in vocal music for this very reason. They are very aware of this problem. They must deal with it all the time. It is also one of the criteria influencing how the composer chooses poetry to set in his songs. The singer’s problem is to be sure that he/she can illuminate for the audience poetry or prose that is not accessible. This equates not only to superb diction but also to performance skills.
Summary
Don’t be put off by the complicated solutions addressed above. In my experience you can better your diction skills within six weeks of real, applied effort. Is it not clear from the necessary length of this article that the singers’ diction problem cannot be mastered simply by “spitting it out?” Far better that singers spend the requisite time to conquer the difficulties and make it their goal to achieve superb diction accompanied by fine singing.
It can be done. Good luck!
The human voice has the capacity--as does no other musical instrument--to express not only music but also drama and literature. For this reason, study of the vocal instrument becomes not just technical and mechanical but also human. To be sure, the vocal cords function on a subconscious level and are best controlled indirectly, often through imagery. It is this fact that makes vocal training highly intimate and convinces other musicians that the personal nature of vocal pedagogy is an object of ridicule. (“What does that mean: send it up and over?” non-singers say with heavy sarcasm. “Send what? Over where?”)
To be fully rounded artists, singers must use their voices as musical instruments and also as a means of communication. The musical use of the voice necessitates a knowledge of how to maintain ideal conditions for a constantly beautiful and musical tone. In contrast, the communicative use of the voice requires a command of ever fluctuating symbolic sounds (consonants) that are often noisy. Because singers must do both things at once, the art of singing is essentially contradictory. Herein hangs the tale.
The great voice teacher William Vennard said this: Exactly in the middle—halfway between the entertainer who disdains music that is “classical,” and the ivory-tower instrumentalist who disdains music that is “programmatic”—sits the poor singer of serious music. Affronted by hearing highly successful entertainers (classified by the public as “singers”) break every rule of good singing and good music, the real singer often does not make peace with the fact that such an entertainer concentrates mostly on diction and dramatic projection, the non-musical elements of the craft. On the other hand, hearing some pure musicologists deride “second-rate” composers like Berlioz for writing descriptive music, they are perplexed. For their music, inextricably wedded to words, is by its very nature programmatic. What else could it be?
Vennard bids us digress for a brief look at music history. One sees that voices and instruments were once equal. In the days of madrigals it mattered not whether one sang or played his/her part. Words were engulfed by the contrapuntal themes. Soon, however, voices had to struggle to keep up with the increasing virtuosity of instruments. As voices became successful at this, the words became less important than the display. One syllable often went on for sixteen bars ofvirtuostic singing, rendering unfathomable and unnecessary the poetic content of the piece. Then Gluck put a stop to all this by means of his reforms. Before long, as composers began to separate what kind of writing was suitable for an instrument and what was best for a voice, long fioratura passages disappeared and the poem became an equal partner with the music. The Lied and the opera—exponents of dramatic sincerity—flourished.
Is one element—beautiful tone or intelligible diction—more important?
We see that singing is a paradoxical enterprise. It can flourish only when beautiful sounds issue from the singer’s throat, but those beautiful sounds must be accompanied by an illumination of the meaning behind the sounds. Yet the consonants that help accomplish the meaning often pose a real threat to the beauty of the sounds.
The singer’s indefatigable quest for a higher level of expression defines the basic elements of singing. They are two: the musical element of the voice (accurate, sustained vowels) and the expressive communication of speech (well-defined consonants). Singers and their teachers seek a diction that is as clear as speech. Truthfully, however, that diction will give only the illusion of being the same as speech; it must be quite different in actuality. William Vennard’s felicitous phrase explains, “To sound ‘natural’ will require studied artifice.” My way of teaching that “studied artifice” is what this article is about.
How to achieve Vennard’s “studied artifice”
In my view, the first principle is this: It is very easy to have what is known as good diction while singing poorly; the real trick is to have good diction while not letting it interfere with good singing. Such skill is not easy to come by. It is not enough to heed the coach’s frequent admonition to “just spit it out,” or to “sing on the consonants” (Robert Shaw’s immortal words), or to “relax; it’s just like speaking on pitch.” Singing is not like speaking. For one thing, experiments have proven that the consonants [b, d, f, h, s, t, v, m, z] average .058 seconds each in speech and .108 in song. The semi-vowels [l, m, n, r] average .145 in speech and .354 in song. Vowels average .280 seconds in speech and .797 in song. Think of the consequences of these facts. N.B. You will note that I am using the IPA symbols for the vowels, but not for the consonants. To be frank, one can live without the IPA consonants, but not without the vowels
For all practical purposes, consonants represent the singer’s biggest problem of articulation. The consonants used for purposes of everyday speech are simply not precise enough to be used for singing, especially in American English. Also, remember that the emphasis placed upon a legato line is not a voice teacher’s whim; it is crucial to the demands of good singing. This is why the prime tenet of bel canto is legato. Yet, the greatest barrier to achieving a legato line is the presence of consonants. Why? Think about it. Consonants close your mouth (which ought to be open most of the time). Consonants tense the tongue (which ought to be relaxed most of the time). Most consonants stop the air flow (which definitely ought to be moving all of the time).
Yet we must allow consonants to sound in order to have intelligible words, one of our singing objectives.... What is the answer?
SHORT but ENERGIZED!
The consonantal movement must be short and rapid, not tentative and extended. In addition, the gesture must be energized, not lackadaisical—in sum, a fast, energized movement of the tongue or lips or any combination thereof.
For the most part, we singers are not equipped to do such precise movements without training. The sooner singers bite the bullet and learn to do the requisite movements in the proper fashion, the sooner they can hope to become skillful singers. One of my students reported to me that her famous Boston teacher had preached, “You must train that naughty tongue to do your bidding!” This study of consonants cannot be avoided, but it can easily be postponed. Not a good idea for a professional singer.
Now to the specifics. They are onerous and sometimes boring, but absolutely necessary.
Don’t move the jaw unless absolutely necessary.
The first skill to be learned is how to snap the tongue rapidly and energetically to the proper area of the palate without necessarily moving the jaw, which would of course change the resonance and the beauty of the tone. The consonants most used in the three major languages of singing are
t, d, n, l, and r.
These consonants all touch the palate at the alveolar arch, preferably between the upper front teeth and the arch. (You don’t know where that is? Run your tongue from inside bottom of your upper front teeth to the inside top of them. As the tongue leaves the top of the teeth it touches the bony arch running behind the half circle of teeth. This is the alveolar arch.) Try the following to clarify the issue for yourself. Make a medium-sized mouth opening. Leaving the jaw where it is, bring the tongue up to the space in front of the alveolar arch and articulate the consonant l. For the five consonants listed above, it is almost not necessary to close the jaw at all (except when t and r need a little jaw closing because the mouth for the vowel has been very open). To move only the tongue—not the jaw—is a skill that is utterly necessary to learn.
Unless singing in a dialect (as do the characters in Copland’s Tender Land, for example), refrain from using the stopped t. That’s the characteristically American one that makes no sound at all. With the stopped t the tongue just hits in front of the alveolar arch and releases silently. This, by the way, is the difference between Americans and the British saying, “I saw it.” When the Brits say this, one hears the t.
Which consonants do or do not require the jaw to close?
The second skill is to explore exactly where each consonant (other than the aforementioned t, d, n, l, and r ) is located and which muscles do it. Incidentally, remember that the consonants found in the English alphabet are not all that must be mastered. Certainly German and the Slavic languages contain others that you must include in your examination. Remember also that, although the consonant may be spelled differently, the sound is often the same, e.g., schin German and sh in English are the same sounds, as in the words Fleisch and flesh. Dispensing with the arcane phonetic terms (palato-fricative, or some such) makes your work a bit easier. Just examine your speech movements and group together in your personal lexicon all consonants that are executed in the same physiological fashion. The following is a practical list:
With k and g the tongue strikes the middle of the palate. They do not need
a closure of the jaw to execute. (E.g., cat, got)
B, m, and p need only a closure of the two lips, b and p being plosive and m
actually sustaining a tone. (E.g., by, my, pie) Although it feels unnatural,
these consonants can be pronounced by bringing the lips together,
but without shutting the jaw, if it is necessary for the tone quality.
W requires a closing of the lips, but without so much pressure. (E.g., witch)
Watch that you do not sing the wh (e.g., which) sound in the same way
that you sing the w sound. These two words (which and witch) are not
pronounced alike. (It is not witch witch.) In the wh sound the lips do not
touch. Air is blown between them. These consonants require a closing if
the vowel has been extremely open, but can be executed without closing.
J (or soft g) and the ch sound require the tongue to strike the palate slightly in
front of the place where k does. (E.g., job, gypsy; charm, chop)
The sound for s is achieved by raising the front half of the tongue close to
the palate, touching the sides of the tongue to the upper teeth, and blowing
air between the tongue and the palate. Z does the same thing, but adds
sound to the blowing air. (E.g., seat, zero) The jaw must close.
The sounds for sh (e.g., shall, sharp) and for zh (e.g., pleasure, azure) are exactly
the same except for the fact that the zh is accompanied by sound whereas
the sound for sh is unpitched. The jaw must close.
The sounds for written x and cks are both in reality a k sound followed by an s,
actually ks. Since it is virtually impossible to pronounce an s without
closing the jaw, both consonants must be done by closing. (E.g., six,
sticks) A variation would be in the word asks where the ks is preceded by
another s, producing sks. These combinations are also found in German.
F and v are the same consonant, f being without sound, and v having pitch. They
are both executed by closing the jaw minimally, touching the upper teeth
lightly against the lower lip, and blowing the air through the remaining
space for the f but not for the v. (E.g., fairy, very)
The n, ny, and ng sounds differ slightly. With n (e.g., not) the tongue strikes the
palate just behind the teeth. With the ny sound (e.g., onion) the tongue
strikes in the same place as with n and then rolls a little back on the palate
for the y. For ng (e.g., hung) a good part of the tongue plasters itself to
the palate at about the halfway mark, effectively stopping the tone from
going on through the mouth, and sends it on a detour through the nose.
The normal h sound (e.g., happy) is made in the larynx itself, but the hu sound
(e.g., Hugh, humor, hue, huge) is made by putting the tongue in an [i]
position and blowing air through the space, followed by a [u]. Do not
confuse this sound with the current popular pronunciation of the four
words above (as pronounced: You, yumor, yoo, yuge), which changes the
hu into a simple y. This is not only wrong but also vulgar. No closing of
the jaw is necessary.
The German ch sound after a vowel
(Note: If you can't see the IPA symbols below, select this version of the article: diction.pdf [requires Adobe Reader].)
In German, the final ch of words such as ich and ach follows the tongue position
of the preceding vowel. If singers who do not speak German would follow
this rule, these particular consonants would not be such a pesky task for
them. Moving from front to back of the palate, this is the drill:
ich: put the tongue on the [I] vowel and blow air above the
tongue without moving it.
ech: put the tongue on the [ɛ] vowel and blow air above the
tongue without moving it.
ach: put the tongue on the [ɑ] vowel and blow air above the
tongue without moving it.
och: put the tongue on the Italian [ɔ] vowel and blow air above
the tongue without moving it.
auch: put the tongue on the [u] vowel and blow air above the
tongue without moving it.
Try it. The whole trick is not to move the tongue from the vowel while blowing the air.
Italian double consonants
The flavor of the Italian language comes from the double consonants. Non-Italians must pay close attention to executing these double consonants accurately. To do this is a rhythmic problem. Let’s use the word spaghetti spoken in three quarter notes to illustrate. The second quarter note on the syllable ghemust also accommodate the double [t] of the last syllable. That is, the double consonant is given a somewhat longer duration than the vowel [ɛ]. Once the [ɛ] is articulated, go immediately to the double [t], opening to the syllable [i] exactly on the third quarter note. Effectively, this gives you three equal durational values: SPA GHETT I. The double consonants are not stronger, just longer.
Does it matter to the diction where the consonant is in the word?
Consonants occur in one of three possible positions:
1. initial consonants of the words, especially the first word of the phrase,
2. consonants beginning or ending words in the middle of the phrase,
3. consonants that end the word, especially the last word in the phrase.
1. Initial consonants
When starting a phrase with a word that begins with a consonant, do not prepare the consonant. Instead, prepare the vowel position with your mouth, then inhale, mouth retaining the vowel position. Then, on the beat, snap your tongue, lips, or lips and teeth—with whatever movement the consonant demands—to the consonant, rapidly and energetically, but not in a sustained gesture. (E.g., with the words Caro mio ben, prepare the [ɑ] position, inhale in that position, let only the center of the tongue make the k sound without changing the [ɑ], and attack the note.) What do you achieve doing it this way? An easier attack, a better tone, less tension, clearer diction. N.B. See Placido Domingo’s Mozart CD for a clear exposition of this technique.
2. Interior consonants
Those final consonants that occur in the middle of the phrase are always delayed until the very last moment and then attached to the next word as swiftly and energetically as possible.
Example, Joan and Bill stood easily. (Imagine a quarter note for each syllable.)
Sung: Joa.....nan....d[ə]Bi....ll[ə]stoo....dea...si....ly.
Note the schwa, [ə]--a very short “uh” sound without much character--inserted after each sounded consonant. Why do we do this? In English, German, and Russian, languages which are famously full of more consonants per square inch than Italian, Spanish, or French, the real problem in deciphering sung words is that (given the obligatory legato) we sometimes cannot tell where one word ends and the next begins. A schwa [ə or ʌ] sounded on pitch (after consonants that have pitch, e.g., d, b, m, l) or unsounded (after consonants that have no pitch, e.g., t, p, k, f) will separate the two words, such as an....d [ə]Bill. Without the schwa, it might sound vaguely like handbill or something else. So consonant clusters at the end of one word and consonant clusters at the beginning of the next word must not be bunched together without a schwa. The schwa will help the listener to separate one word from another and to comprehend the sentence. In the case of the unsounded schwa, the empty space between words will have the same effect.
Example, Both of them took their time. (Quarter note for each syllable)
Sung: Bo....tho....v[ə]the....m[ə]too....k[ə]thei.....rti....me[ə].
Note the unsounded schwa between the k of took and the th at the beginning of the word their. There is no tone, just barely audible air noise in the schwa, but the space does the job: it separates the two words so that the listener can comprehend.
Remember: however strange and unnatural this feels and sounds to you, you cannot judge its efficiency until you ask a listener to tell you whether or not he/she heard the word. That is the proof.
The British, it must be said, do not look kindly upon schwas. That is their prerogative. However, I find that their singing without schwas (often somewhat ineffectual) supplies one of the reasons why they tax their voices when singing loudly and sonorously. (Even the Italians, who do not admit the existence of the vowel schwa, adopt schwas when singing in their own language. E.g., on the last page of Alfredo’s Traviata aria, I have yet to hear an Italian tenor sing the wordsin cielo without executing them in this way: in[ʌ]cielo.) To do this well, the schwa must be executed (not à la Liza Minelli--home [ɑ..ɑ..ɑ..ɑ..ɑ.] with a lengthy, wide open [ɑ] after the m of the word home) but as an extremely rapid [ʌ or ə] on pitch. What pitch? The pitch on which the vowel was sung. The pitch will carry; a noise will not.
Listening to pop singers invariably singing a word starting with a vowel as a glottal, we have begun to believe that is the only thing to do. Personally, I am not a fan of this many glottals. My rule is this: if eliding the last consonant of one word to the vowel beginning the second word creates another word, then a prudent glottal will help to clarify. Otherwise, do not do it, unless some unwritten edict makes this maneuver sound un-English or un-American. Use your instincts to make this decision. In general, try not to pepper your singing of English with glottals.
So the rule holds: When the first word ends with a consonant or a consonant cluster and the next word begins with a consonant or a consonant cluster (e.g., and strong), your job is to put a schwa between them (on the pitch of the last vowel of the first word) and move rapidly through the consonant(s) at the beginning of the next word to the vowel of that word. If the second word begins with a vowel (e.g., and I), then the final consonant of the first word and is attached to the vowel of the second word ( a....ndI). This accomplishes two important things. We understand the words better, and it is the vowel that is elongated, not the consonant. Thus the singing itself improves.
3. Final consonants
For the very last consonant in a phrase, it is important for you to understand the following principle. Especially in English and German texts, but also true for Italian and French, we do not fully understand any phrase until the last word has been uttered or sung. This means that comprehensibility often hangs on the last word. In order for the audience to understand the phrase, the singer must sing a clear last word; in order for the audience to understand the last word, the singer must sing a very clear last consonant.
Singers often labor under the misapprehension that it is the first consonant in a word that must be attended to. Coaches, in their effort to help with diction problems, often pursue this route—generally to little effect. For it is not the first consonant in any word that must be totally clear; it is the last one. This is an inviolable principle of the English and German languages.
Thus, the same principles as articulated in section 2., Interior Consonants, apply here. If the final consonant has pitch (e.g., d, b, m, n, z, etc.), it should be followed by a tiny schwa on the pitch of the last note. If the final consonant does not have pitch (e.g., p, t, f, s, k, etc.), it will be necessary to execute a triple strength spurt of air to accompany the unpitched consonant. Anything less will not carry.
Some other options with consonants, or how to handle consonants on high pitches
For the most part, the lower the pitch for a vowel that comes after the consonant, the easier that note is to execute (a fact that pop singers take total advantage of). The opposite is also true: the higher the pitch for a vowel that follows a consonant, the more difficult it is to sing it, not to mention making it intelligible. That is, on high notes preceded by a consonant one generally has this option: one can be understood, or one can make a beautiful sound. In truth, in a moment defined by a very high note, the word scarcely matters to the listener. The sheer sound of the vocal tone itself carries that moment. Furthermore, it is the composer who must anticipate the problem that will be caused by the word written on the high note. If the composer is well versed in writing for the voice, he/she will do what Mozart did—that is, not write a word that is crucial for the understanding of the plot only on that one high note. Instead, he/she will have repeated that word many times before the high note, and reserved the high note moment for tone, not import. Douglas Moore of Baby Doe fame once apologized to me for creating such a dilemma for the leading soprano in an earlier opera of his, saying, “If I had known then what I know now, I would not have allowed the audience’s understanding of the drama to hinge on that one word. I would have preceded that high B on the word kill (!!!) with several other repetitions of the word kill on lower notes. Then you would have been free to just sing the B to the best of your ability.”
“Fudging” and/or lengthening the consonant
When faced with the problem of a very high note that is being ruined by a consonant (assuming there have been other repetitions of the word previously or will be repetitions later) the singer can panic, or “fudge” the consonant and modify the vowel, or he/she can do what might be called the “Pavarotti trick.” At one time in my teaching life, a student of mine was accorded the privilege of working with Pavarotti each morning for several weeks. In the afternoon this student would come to me, and I would ask for the precious details of what The Great Man had said. In this way, I learned that Pavarotti had insisted that the student put the consonant on the lower note that preceded the high note and then go directly to the high note in a great leap of air. He called this “landing piano on the high note.” By that, I assume he meant gently. And, indeed, it is so easy to accomplish that it does feel like a gentle onset.
It is, of course, a rhythmic problem. For, if you wish to put the upcoming consonant on the preceding note, the time for executing that consonant will have to be subtracted from the preceding note. The vowel of the following high note will have to open right on time. For example, imagine a skip from F to B flat on two quarter notes. Words: O, God. Executed in the “Pavarotti” style, it would become O,GGG......od, with a closure of the consonant G to the palate on the F and an opening of the vowel [ɔ] on B♭. In other words, the G of God would come on the F, and the B flat would have only the vowel [ɔ]. Try it. It is unmistakably what Pavarotti does in his own singing. Remember how everyone admires the clarity of Pavarotti’s “diction.” Listen to a recording. He does “the trick” before every high note. The skip to the high note sounds very easy and gentle. The diction is clear as a bell, because this technique makes the low pitch consonant more audible than if it were put on the higher note.
There is a further plus accrued to the vocal tone when putting the consonant on the lower note before a skip upwards. A plosive which is lengthened will give higher pharyngeal pressure, thus giving the higher note more chest content and, therefore, a darker, stronger quality. The plosives g and k (center of the palate), t and d (in front of the alveolar arch), p and b (lips together), will give, when lengthened and placed on the lower note, a stronger, darker, more cutting tone. In contrast, the consonants m and n, when lengthened, will produce a tone lighter and more heady on the following tone. Consider what result you would like to achieve, and choose accordingly.
Lengthening the consonant has another purpose in artistic singing--not just a vocal technical one. That is to produce a more expressive word when desired. For example, in Schubert’s “Nacht und Träume” the word stille is repeated two times at the end of what might be called the first verse. Lengthening thesh sound on the second stille creates an expressive, meaningful moment that is very lovely. Extending an s or an f or any of the various chs has the same result. The moment seems to reveal a personal speech pattern and thus appears to heighten the sincerity of the singer. If you want to hear such a technique at work, listen to any song sung by Fischer-Dieskau with the music before you. In adopting this skill, the vowel may begin slightly late. As long as the effect pleases you and doesn’t annoy a conductor, go for it.
Back to the issue of “fudging” the consonant before a difficult note. An example would be this. Using p, b, m, v, or f, all of which must touch the lip to the teeth or the lips to each other, simply do not touch whatever is supposed to be touched. Just come close to closing, but don’t touch. The listener will intuit what word is intended, especially if the composer has done a good job. (See any of Giuseppe Verdi’s arias.)
Context as an aid to diction
Another principle: Context helps us listeners to understand the words. There is no doubt about this. Think of the last time you went to the theater. There is no way that you understood every single word. You guessed successfully at several of them because you comprehended the context. However, in songs and opera texts, some poetry and prose is written in an arcane fashion and requires time to study to comprehend the meaning—which time is not available to the audience. For example, T.S. Eliot’s poetry is difficult even for those who speak English. Rock poetry or Woman’s Day poetry may speak to its audience, but it is not difficult to fathom on first hearing. The language of this poetry is—in that most useful 20th century word—“accessible.” Adding inaccessible text to bad diction will produce a disaster. This means that the audience will probably have a lot of trouble understanding the T.S. Eliot (or other difficult) poetry even when sung withexcellent diction. To a singer, poetry that is too deep, requiring long and concentrated attention, is a handicap. And also to the composer, and to the poets or authors, many of whom do not wish their words to be used in vocal music for this very reason. They are very aware of this problem. They must deal with it all the time. It is also one of the criteria influencing how the composer chooses poetry to set in his songs. The singer’s problem is to be sure that he/she can illuminate for the audience poetry or prose that is not accessible. This equates not only to superb diction but also to performance skills.
Summary
Don’t be put off by the complicated solutions addressed above. In my experience you can better your diction skills within six weeks of real, applied effort. Is it not clear from the necessary length of this article that the singers’ diction problem cannot be mastered simply by “spitting it out?” Far better that singers spend the requisite time to conquer the difficulties and make it their goal to achieve superb diction accompanied by fine singing.
It can be done. Good luck!
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