Ways into vocal improvisation for singing groups

I’m often asked by choir members if we can do some vocal improvisation.

photo © Aude Vanlathem

Improvising with a large group of singers is really hard, but here are some pointers to get you started.

Want to develop your voice and sing better? Be silly and play!

Trying to increase your vocal range? Want to develop a richer tone to your voice? Puzzling over voice placement and timbre?

photo by The-Serene-Mage

Before you rush off to find a singing teacher, try being playful with your voice for fun.

What do words add to music?

I caught a scene from the movie Spartacus the other day. The character played by Tony Curtis was asked to perform a song. He then proceeded to speak a poem. What exactly is a ‘song’ then?



You can have music without words, but can you have a song without music? When music is wedded to lyrics, is it greater than the sum of its parts? What do words add to music (and vice versa)?

Over-rehearsed or under-prepared: which is better?

I don’t like rehearsing. I’d much rather turn up on the day, trust the singers I’m working with and just busk it.

 

                photo by Prestwick                             photo by ~BC~

But some people love to rehearse. They worry away at a song for months until they feel that they’ve perfected it.

Neither of these extremes seem to be ideal, but which is better?

under-prepared?

I really, really don’t like rehearsing. Neither as a singer nor a choir leader. I get bored easily. Once a song is pretty much up and running, I’m done and want to move onto the next thing.

Personally, if I go over something too many times it becomes stale. Sometimes it even gets worse!

I used to play squash from time to time. When I first went out on the court after not playing for a while, I was really quite good. But if I ended up playing several days in a row, I got gradually worse. I work very much from instinct and if I repeat something too many times, I become analytical which gets in the way.

Similarly the choir might have been having trouble getting a song right. We rehearse it week after week and it just doesn’t gel. Then we have the summer break. First week back we give the song one more try and it’s perfect!

The same thing’s at work here: if you worry away at something too much, your intellect gets in the way and stops you from doing it well. Rather like the amateur golfer who is asked to analyse their swing. As soon as they focus on what they’re doing, it all goes wrong.

I’d much rather rehearse just enough then leave the rest up to a mutual trust of the other singers and their musicianship, and being focused and in the moment.

The positive aspects of this approach are that the performance can be:

• fresh and new – as if for the first time
• exciting and alive
• with a sense of total focus (and slight danger!)

The negative aspects are that it can end up being:

• unpolished and rough round the edges
• amateurish
• full of mistakes
• a display of fearful and under-confident singers

over-rehearsed?

Some people like to rehearse a lot and go over a song many times. They feel that this in-depth treatment improves their understanding and performance of the song and also enables the singers in the group to get to know each other better and hence work better together.

The positive aspects of this approach are that:

• everyone always knows exactly what they’re doing
• subtle nuances and depths of songs can be brought out
• the singers can be playful with the song and each other because they feel totally secure with the material

The negative aspects can be that:

• the performance can feel tired and uninspired as if the singers are just going through the motions
• the song is too polished and soulless
• the singers appear to be over-confident and arrogant

which do you prefer?

I’ve nailed my colours to the mast, but what about you? I’m of the opinion that, like seasoned session musicians, you can work with complete strangers after just a few rehearsals as long as you trust their musical abilities.

Do let me know which of these two camps you belong to. Or maybe there’s a middle way that I’ve not thought of.

specialists vs. generalists

Following on from this topic, in next week’s  post I’m going to look at the notion that people are either specialists (focusing in depth on just one thing) or generalists (having a wide range of interests and influences) and what effect this has on the choirs they lead or the singing they do.

 

Chris Rowbury's website: chrisrowbury.com

Does your singing voice reveal the real you?

We’ve all seen it: a timid, unkempt, nervous person approaches the microphone. We expect disaster. They open their mouth and the most amazing, beautiful sound comes out. They transform before our very eyes into a confident, charismatic singer.

photo by thefuturistics

Which of these is the ‘real’ person? The singer or the nervous wreck? Is the singer revealing anything about their true self which lies behind all the nerves and lack of confidence?

what you see is NOT always what you get ...

With the rash of talent shows on TV at the moment, transformations like this are seen almost every week. Someone walks on stage and chats with the judges who quickly form an expectation of what their singing will be like.

Crudely, if they seem a little bit dumb (or have a working class accent!) or don’t look traditionally attractive (or young!), then the judges (and us?) assume they will have a bad singing voice.

But what you see is not always what you get. It’s a joy to see the judges’ mouths drop open when their preconceptions are shattered.

Susan Boyle is now an international phenomenon. The look on the judges’ faces when she first sang on Britain’s Got Talent is a joy to behold.

Another example here in the UK is of Stacey Solomon. Again, just watch the judges’ expressions at her first audition on The X Factor.

... and what you get is NOT always what you saw

The opposite also holds true.

A young, attractive singer bounces onto stage oozing confidence and we have great hopes of hearing a fine singing voice. Until they open their mouths: Kyle, Onkar, Krisztina, The Dreamgirls, James.

A fantastically wealthy, supremely confident, handsome CEO picks up the karaoke microphone and belts out a song in the worst singing voice ever.

A beautiful, well-dressed, smiling, relaxed woman takes to the stage with ease and confidence. She announces the song in a husky, sexy voice, then proceeds to sing like she’s a little girl on helium.

which is the real you?

This raises the question: which is the real you? The person who is singing, or the person who is chatting beforehand? The person whose voice is soaring and who is clearly transported by the music? Or the person who’s scared of the audience, not bothered about how they look, worried that they’ll get the notes wrong?

Singing in tune is a skill that can be learnt quite easily. So if someone sings badly, we know that they can just go away and work on their singing voice. We don’t assume that because they have a ‘bad’ singing voice, then they are somehow ‘bad’ too. Next time they come back, we hope they will sing better.

But what about those people who can sing well, yet appear awkward, inarticulate and under-confident beforehand. What is their ‘true’ nature? Are they revealing the authentic person through their singing voice? How can they appear so confident whilst singing, but not whilst speaking?

Perhaps singing such a different mode of communication from speaking that two types of person can co-exist within the same individual: the confident singer and the shy speaker. Yet for most of us, public speaking is just as scary and difficult as singing in public. And for many, many people, singing is the scarier thing to do!

our singing voice makes us vulnerable

When we make music with our voices, we are using ourselves as an instrument. If a violinist plays badly, we can blame the poor quality of the violin itself, or argue that the player isn’t up to the job: she’s a bad violinist. But if we think someone doesn’t sing well, we tend not to say she’s a bad vocalist, but she has a bad voice.

We are our instrument, so any criticism of our singing voice is felt as a criticism of our self.  Because of this, we are often frightened to open our mouths, to sing out, to improvise and experiment with our voices. We stand at the back of the choir and sing very quietly until we are absolutely sure we have the tune right.

Our voices are very personal to us, more so than our bodies.

I used to teach at drama school and university and every time I would ask the students to improvise some crazy dance they would have no problem throwing their bodies around in the strangest of ways.

When asked to deliver a speech from a play, they would speak loudly and confidently.

But ask them to improvise with their voices and they would all clam up! Somehow people seem to feel that their voices are more revealing of their innermost being than anything else.

This is not just about singing though. Over the years I have been able to free myself of many vocal inhibitions so I can just let rip with my voice in weird and wonderful ways. But when I'm supposed to be singing a recognisable tune, then doubts can creep in as to whether I'm 'getting it right' or not.

musical vs. primal voice

There are many ways to use our voices in a free and natural way. Some people are able to let rip and improvise the strangest sounds. Some actors can howl and wail and speak their lines so they can be heard at the back of the upper circle.

There is something known as voice therapy which attempts to unlock the voice and set our voices, emotions and spirits free. Many alternative therapies involve screaming, shouting and chanting.

But I’m concerned with the singing voice, the voice that makes music. I believe that there is something deeper and more connected with our essential being when we’re singing, than when we’re simply freely exploring our vocal capabilities in a non-musical way.

feedback loop

As we become more confident with our singing, does that spill over into our everyday lives? Or do these two personas live in different worlds?

It doesn’t necessarily work the other way round. We’ve seen that people can be over-confident in other areas of life and over-estimate their singing abilities. So maybe singing confidence doesn’t carry over to other areas.

Why the mismatch? How is singing so different from real life and vice versa?

I realise I’ve asked more questions than I’ve answered here! I’d be really interested in your feedback. Do you think your singing voice reveals the ‘real’ you? How do you account for the mismatch between your everyday persona and your singing persona? Can learning to sing confidently spill over into other areas of your life?

next week

In next week’s post I will look at how singing helps to define the self and how our sense of identity is intimately tied up with our voices: You are what you sing.

 

Chris Rowbury's website: chrisrowbury.com

Being in a community choir PART 2

Following on from last week's Frequently Asked Questions, here are the rest.

Why do we spend so long on some songs?

There is only one way to learn a song by ear and that is by REPETITION! That is why we sing our new songs week after week. Then we sometimes have a little gap of a week or so, then we sing it AGAIN! Unfortunately for those with a low boredom threshold, singing the same songs again and again is part of the process (see Papa's got a brand new song for more about song learning and repetition).

Obviously some people pick up their parts quicker than others, so whereas some people get fed up doing the same songs repeatedly, others would appreciate more time spent on each song so we can be properly rehearsed for our concerts. I personally think I have the balance about right at the moment. If you get a bit bored doing the same song over and over again, why not take the opportunity to go and learn the other parts?

We always seem under-rehearsed for concerts. Why can’t we spend more time on the songs we’re going to sing?

This choir was never set up as a performing choir. You join in order to come once a week and have fun singing with other people. The concerts are an optional extra. If we were a performance choir, we would be rehearsing most of the time and not learning many new songs. Things would be a lot stricter and we would become just like all those other ‘normal’ choirs out there. I think we have the balance about right, and even though people might feel slightly under-rehearsed, we just keep on getting better and perform to a high standard.

Part of the problem is that many of our songs are very short, plus our concerts are 1½ hours long with just us performing – that’s a LOT of material!! I always try to include the songs we’ve learnt that term (so hopefully fresh in the mind), a few well-known ones that won’t need much rehearsal, plus a few “oldies” that we spend some time resurrecting. One option, to take the pressure off a little, is to do shorter concerts or joint concerts with someone else performing. I don’t want our terms to turn into just rehearsing for our next gig.

Why do you insist that we sit in rows, in parts? Can’t we be in one big circle for instance?

If a group is bigger than about 30 – 40 then circles don’t work very well. It’s difficult for everyone to hear me all the time, and it’s hard to hear the part that’s the other side of the circle. The sitting in rows was an attempt to find a way to keep everybody close together so you can hear each other. Also it was a way of keeping tabs on how many people are in each part. (I will be discussing the problem of so-called part creep next time.) The downsides are that people became reluctant to swap parts, and sitting down all the time saps the energy. Which is why we now stand up all the time!

Why don’t we do more moving around and physical stuff? I’d like to see more movement with songs in performance.

There are just so many reasons not to sit down when singing! Sitting down:

• lowers energy levels (it’s just too easy to fall asleep);
• compresses the diaphragm and makes it harder to breathe properly;
• makes it hard to engage the whole body properly when singing;
• doesn’t allow people to easily move around and sing their part against other parts;
• promotes the tendency to always be singing next to the same person;
• doesn’t make it easy to swap parts in a song;
• generates a reliance on other people instead of taking responsibility for knowing the part yourself;
• causes a hassle having to set out the chairs and put them away again at the end.

And I’m sure there are other reasons too!

There are two main reasons why I have used chairs in the past: (1) I am aware that it’s tiring (after a hard day’s work) to simply stand around whilst other people are learning their parts, and (2) if people are free to move around (and swap parts readily), it’s really hard to keep tabs on how many people are singing any particular part (see parts creep next time).

However, even though you’re tired, standing and moving around can really energise you and literally keeps you on your toes! For more about our difficulties with moving around, see Making a song and dance of it.

I like to hear my part against the other parts. Can’t we be mixed up so we can sing in closer proximity to the other parts?

Yes, it is much easier to learn your part if you’re surrounded by loads of people doing the same thing. The trouble is that you might end up depending on them for support, much better to know 100% what you’re supposed to be doing.

We learn harmony songs, so the greatest pleasure is (surely?) hearing your part sung against another part. If you’re in a large group of people singing the same part, you won’t have that experience. Much better to walk around and sing your part against someone else.

Why do people sit or stand in the same places every week? Wouldn’t it be better if you mixed people up so they don’t end up relying on the voices around them?

I think it’s just human nature that people head for the same place each week (see Fighting habit and complacency). It’s also comforting to be next to people you know well and are singing the same part. I agree, I think it’s a great idea to mix people up and for people to try different parts or sing next to different people. However, organising such a large group is hard and time-consuming so, in the past, I’ve left it up to individuals to challenge themselves. However, some weeks I do try and prompt this a bit in different ways.

Can’t we do more work on performance techniques? I feel we’re all a bit stiff and there aren’t enough smiling, animated faces!

I quite agree! Part of it is that we’re Brits and don’t tend to show our emotions that much, also in our cultures we don’t tend to be IN our bodies that much, and are slightly embarrassed about moving around. When people concentrate, they tend to frown and look serious. The secret is to stop concentrating and trust that you know what you’re doing, and then your enjoyment should carry over.

Many people don’t realise how glum and stiff they look in concert. I’m not sure this is about “performance techniques” – I don’t feel that I have to TEACH you how to smile – it’s more about self-awareness and letting go of inhibitions. That’s pretty much up to you! I do have an issue with choirs who have been told to smile. They often look very uncomfortable and unnatural. Better if it comes from within from a genuine joy of singing. One day I will video the choir and you can see what you really look like when performing!

Can’t we have a SMALL repertoire of songs that we always do so we can learn them properly and sing them really well?

On the whole, we DO have such a repertoire. It may not be quite small enough for you, but we do have a core set of “fave raves” that most people know and can sing at the drop of a hat. The trouble with a really restricted repertoire is that people would soon get bored at concerts!

I like to make up my own harmonies. Could we not have more space to improvise and experiment?

That’s not what this choir is. We do songs from around the world and I teach the harmonies. If that’s not quite what you signed up for, then maybe there are other choirs out there that would suit you better.

It’s also INCREDIBLY difficult to improvise in such a large group. It’s hard enough in a group of 12 or less (I know!). Also, many, many people in the choir would not feel confident doing this so would feel very much left out. I try to make the choir as inclusive as possible.

Can’t you insist that people who are going to sing in a concert have to attend a minimum number of rehearsals? Sometimes it seems like there are people who just don’t know what they’re doing!

How would one police this? There are some people, for various reasons, who have to miss a few weeks. One of these people may be an accomplished singer who has been coming to the choir for years and knows most of the songs inside out. Or it may be someone who has just joined and is having a bit of difficulty catching up. Many, many times I make it clear that performing is OPTIONAL and you don’t have to know every song in a particular concert. Also, if you don’t know a song well enough, DON’T SING IT in concert! Don’t make things difficult for yourself, don’t place these pressures on yourself – it’s supposed to be fun! I would rather use this form of trust than ask people not to perform. Otherwise we’ll turn into just another ‘normal’ choir!

Why don’t we sing more English language songs, contemporary “pop” songs and/ or songs that the audience are likely to know?

Because we’re a world music choir! We’re not here to pander to the audience. There are plenty of choirs who do this sort of stuff, so let them go and watch them. It’s interesting that this always comes up, that people SAY they want to sing more songs which are English, upbeat, familiar, pop, etc. Yet when I ask the choir what their favourite songs of all time are, it’s always the slow, lush, foreign, traditional songs that come in the top 10!! Also, when I’ve tried to introduce such songs (e.g. Good Vibrations, Don’t worry be happy, etc.) I’ve met with considerable resistance.

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Blame it on the weather

Sometimes we’re just out of tune. All of us. Whether it’s six, or sixteen or sixty singers, sometimes everyone is out of tune. They’re out of tune with each other, the harmonies just aren’t working, the pitch is dropping dreadfully – it just isn’t working.

Now if this were just one or two people then OK, perhaps they’re having an off day or are tired or had a difficult day at work. But the whole group??!! What’s going on here? A few out of tune voices might have a slight knock-on effect to those around them, but how come the whole team is off key? This doesn’t happen often, but it’s happened enough times for me to realise that it’s a recognisable phenomenon. There is nothing one can do about it (I’ve tried!). So I just blame it on the weather. It’s not the singers’ fault, it’s something outside them that’s affecting the whole room. Maybe it’s the full moon, or we’re in a high pressure area, or the humidity’s low – whatever it is, it’s nothing to do with us.

This is very different from those rehearsals where things seem to be going wrong, but it’s just a case of a bit of a pep talk, a heightening of focus and attention, or simply running the song again and everything's back on track. This we can fix. In those cases we get back in tune OK. But not on bad weather days.

It’s happened enough times now for me to just point it out and try to get everyone to accept the situation. “It’s just one of those nights! Next week will be fine” At first it really spooked me. We had such a good session the previous week and now it’s all going pear-shaped. It must be my fault, I’m not teaching very well or maybe I should be doing something different. Then I remembered my days as a runner.

I used to be a long-distance runner, culminating in a half-marathon before I had to give it all up (don’t ask!). Most nights I would go out jogging for a good few miles come rain or shine. Many times I’d get back home on a real runner’s high. No matter how wretched or tired I felt when I set off, I’d come back glowing and full of energy. The next night I’d set off perhaps feeling a bit low but knowing that at the end of it I’d feel great. Only sometimes I didn’t! I began to realise that how I felt at the end of my run was kind of random. Many times I’d feel good, but sometimes I’d feel lousy. If I tried to hang onto the memories and feelings of the last good run and expect to come back feeling wonderful, I’d only get doubly disappointed. So I learnt to have no expectations. What happened would happen, despite me.

I think this is what Zen calls beginner’s mind. The idea that each time you do something, no matter how many times you’ve done it before, you approach it as if it were the first time. This also connects with my time as an actor. I used to do a lot of improvisation and at first would try to repeat the things that went well the last time. But of course it’s never as good or as spontaneous the second time round. So I learnt to approach each improvisation as if it were the first time (which of course it was!).

This can be applied not only to “bad weather” sessions, but also to warm-ups and performances. I try to vary the warm-ups and vocal training each week, but inevitably (and usefully) we often repeat the same exercises. There are two ways of dealing with this: either you can just go through the motions because you’ve done it loads of times before and you just want to get through it to get onto the singing (the fun part!), or you can have a beginner’s mind and approach the exercise as if you have never done it before. You may then discover new things about how your body and voice work, you will stay engaged and fascinated, and you will benefit from the warm-up much more.

Similarly, when a concert comes along, you can try to re-create the wonderful performance that you had the last time, or you can behave as if you have never done this before, be totally in the moment, and move into the unknown, learning, wondering and developing as you go.

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