Secrets of the voice

"The muse opens the throat and enables you to speak...It was so believed that the existence of things was not complete unless there was a voice to express it"  Helen Todd, Voice Coach.

A beautiful friend of mine, Catherine, sent me the book "Secrets"by various authors. In it is a novella called "The clear voice suddenly singing" by Amanda Lohrey. May I also say how wonderful it is to receive mail in the post. Such a delight to be so remembered in such a fashion. She had said that when she had read it, she had thought immediately of me.

"The clear voice suddenly singing"brought me to tears on first reading. The portrayal of the power of the voice, as well as how voice teachers can facilitate this connection to our own voice resonated immensely with me. "Some days my voice is so big it scares me". I too have made sounds that seem so enormous that it has made my whole body shake and tremble, almost as if it was going to explode like a fountain. Some of us use our voice in such a way when we are angry, or "seeing red" where our voice seems to take on a completely different timbre and open capacity (possibly to the detriment of those who may be in the vicinity).

It speaks of those who have not always had a voice, both metaphorically and physically; how they have searched to find their voice. This makes up a good deal of my client population. From the "little girl voice" and transitioning to a much larger vocal realm. It is a shift on many levels for people to get reacquainted with their voices. And the immense power we have when we communicate to another.
I regularly see with my clients who stutter, that upon improving, they sometimes do not know how to keep conversations flowing. It had been such an effort to expel even the basics of information that conversation for it's own sake is seen as true luxury: like the Queen Jewels, something they could not possess them themselves and looking at others with a mixture of envy and resentment. "How do they do it?" Indeed how do we. And why do we do it? What makes us do it?

Lohrey speaks of the muse in relation to the Greek myths. How we all need to have a muse. How this can be part of our song. "The singer experiences inner life as something (they) share with the world, not as something that sets him apart from it". (Stephen Schafer) So how do we find our song. The one that is uniquely ours. How do we find our own voice, the subtle, rich and glorious realms of our voice. Often I say to clients, that I do not wish them suddenly to be an extrovert, but that they may become comfortable with saying whatever it is they want to say, powerfully and persuasively, standing in what is true for them.

One of the other "secrets" is the discovery of how complex the voice is. Whoever has stood next to a flailing shower curtain knows how the curtain wants to stick to you, and that is the same way the vocal  cords connecting happens: The Bernoulli effect!

In the modern day of Reality Idol programs and such, there are many who think they can sing. Often, however they lack the appropriate technique that will carry them through big sings, 8 shows a week, concert after concert. "In some ways being a singer is like being an athlete: both are external expressions of who you are" (cited from Lohrey's novella) When I started Vocal Athletics in 2007 I had seen the voice as an athletic structure: an opera being like a marathon. How we take the voice to the highest realms and stay there. Prevent injury. Feel good. 

To be an excellent athlete, we need many factors: external and internal physicality, mentality, emotional strength and flexibility and faith in ourselves. There is a "Singer Personality Profile" which is interesting indeed (another time, perhaps). In 'The science of breath" by Yogi Ramacharaka he states that in the West we are paying a great deal of attention to the external muscles. "But in their enthusiasm, they must not forget that the exercise of the external muscles is not everything. The internal organs also need exercise". 

Breathwork, and singing provide excellent internal work. Our pelvic muscles can be "fit" with the breath and singing. The Transverse Abdominus (TA) is vital for supporting the breath for singing, as well as speech. We know when they are working if we have had such a big belly laugh that all our insides ache. Athletic on the inside and outside. I have seen many women who have had gynaecological issues or injuries as well as men who have had prostate difficulties present with reduced breath into this area. (Not always the only reason, of course) And hence, not as vocally powerful as they would like to be.

Often retraining the breath into this area and using the core muscles again can have a dramatic impact upon the quality of the voice, as well as the quality of the breath. An idea of toning the organs, likening it to an internal massage. One such client  had had an emergency Caesarian many, many years before, and had never breathed "down there" (her words) since.  With gentle physical and verbal encouragement, the breath fluttered gently into her lower belly, and so too did her tears. Her voice found a deeper resonance with less strain for the breath was able to reside in more of her. Interestingly too she had had stomach troubles since the Caesar: a sort of internal holding of the musculature.

Many speak of using the singing voice as a healing modality. That voice resonates where words cannot. It allows us to access that aspect of us which is primal and pre-verbal. A place where we can breathe easily. New born babies do this effortlessly: make sound, move, roll, breathe. And perhaps that is indeed the secret. How can we re-find that effortless aspect of ourselves? For there true athleticism, movement, flexibility, strength, endurance and freedom is likely to reside. 

xx

Caves and the sound of the feminine

"Magic above and below" Mole Creek, Tasmania

I am currently immersing myself in Tasmania as part of my project as a resident artist. As part of this, I am exploring the sounds of the feminine voice in relation to caves.

As I write, I have a view of the old gums which seem to be happily chatting to me, a good glimpse of Opossum Bay and wonderful fresh air. I have already dealt with spiders, a scorpion (I think) and I had a late night visitor of a masked owl when it flew into my window: we then watched each other for a long time. I like this kind of living.  Hearing the birds. Being near nature, and in nature (although I am reconciling my ability to love all of the crawly aspects-a work in process).

Several events led me to coming down to the Apple Isle. One was a desire for quiet. Silence. To hear nature and the birds. To hear the breath of nature and my breath and how they relate.  One was to discover the cave structures here and make sound in them, where I felt that it was "right".

I know the physics which relates to our voice and speech, including our vocal tract. However, as someone who never really excelled at physics and acoustics, my exploration seems to be more intuitive in nature rather than prescriptive. One such structure in Marakoopa Cave (photos) was deemd by a physicist as having a certain structure that would make a wonderful sound. Sure enough, amazing it is. It sounds like a didgeridoo when a low hum resonates in just the right spot. I was tall enough to reach the spot, alas my lower range was not up to the challenge of resonating to make the exact harmonics. Higher notes were interesting, just not with the same resonant qualities. In King Solomon Caves there were two places where the sound would resonate into infinity. Almost shaped like a long stem of broccoli atop a wedding cake, my guide and I toned and made a beautiful sound that resonated spectacularly throughout the cave. A sense of feeling at one with the cave. A true interconnectedness between nature and 'man'. 

I was at Gunns Plain's Cave last week and Geoff, a wonderfully funny guide took me through. I was the only one on the tour. A theme which continued, luckily for me throughout my cave adventures. There was a moment where the lights were off and we were standing in the dark. The distant sound of the river below felt comforting, perhaps a little like amniotic fluid, and I was moved to tears by the complete and total peace and calm that entered my body. It was a true state of being. Nothing to do, nothing to see, just being. Revitalising. Incredible. They run musical concerts there which would be amazing. And yet, whilst I was there I only wanted to listen to her and not make sounds. A lady on one of the tours exclaimed when the lights went out "Oh I'm scared!" The same lady after several minutes said that "It was magic". That is the nature of how the caves are. Compelling and somewhat repelling at the same time.

This is a theme which continued to the other caves. Some desire sounding and some are encouraging us to listen to them and to ourselves. I went to Yarangobilly Caves in NSW a few weeks ago, and the North Glory Cave entrance really wanted to be sung to. Not so much the South Glory Cave. Interestingly, the North Glory Cave was not open and it was felt that there was much there inside her walls. Each structure having their own story, their own history. Part of my process is listening so intently to this so that I can ascertain what I feel is wanted. And make sure it is not from ego! Often I will get a feeling like someone is holding my mouth gently shut when I am not meant to make sound, and when I am meant to a different quality of breath enters for the inhalation. I am learning to respect and respond to these ever so subtle changes in feeling. More and more I have experienced the magic of the cave responding with a gentle wind, with her own song, not dissimilar to the sounds I had sung. Incredibly subtle. Like a sound made of gossamer thread, not a metal band.

One of the guides was so relieved when we both came to the conclusion that one part of the cave, that seemed to be designed for acoustic bliss, did not want sound in it at all. Paradox. Listening to the feminine intently. Honouring the ancient aspects of the cave. Asking permission to be within her walls. Recognising the ancient magic of the cave and all that it represents. Powerful indeed. 

The feeling once inside is innately beautiful. Deeply restorative. Some of the structures date back to the Ice Age 440 million years ago. A time when the whole world was geologically connected. There is something so awe-inspiring and powerful in that. Cave spiders found in Tassie are also found in Chile. They would have been geographically next door during Gondwana. Glow worms seen in the wild. Who would have thought maggots would be so gorgeous? Certainly not me.

Which got me thinking (I have been doing a lot of that here). Caves are often seen as feminine. We know that they symbolically represent the womb and feminine consciousness. Going deep into the internal psyche as Jung would say. Including the shadow aspect of ourselves. That which is hidden, unseen but oft deeply felt. How can we alter the unseen to the seen, the unheard to the heard. So that we may find ourselves within.

Is it that there might be places within the cave where the masculine voice is amplified and the feminine voice is amplified so that they may reach true harmony together? Quite possibly. I am continuing the exploration....