Rehearsing like an instrumentalist.

I think that my first tearful lesson in my graduate experience deserves a post as a reaction. I was basically unprepared to sing "Una voce poco fa," even the passages that I had rehearsed over and over. They were tears of frustration only, as Virginia is basically a master at saying what you need to hear without being unkind.

The problem is that I was approaching this sort of legendary aria with the intent of learning it in two weeks. I've listened to it about a gagillion times in the past three years or so because I like it so much, so I thought I had a head start. I guess I did aurally, but I just did not think about the task of establishing any kind of muscle memory or consistency. My obstacles are several-fold, and go far beyond learning the notes and rhythms. Here are a couple.

My voice is unwieldy. I don't sing with any sort of consistency yet, and have somehow picked up the habit of learning and practicing a piece in half-voice and in an un-engaged sort of way. Then, when it comes time to sing full out, all of my practicing has been for naught. My muscles remember the other way, not the way I'm suddenly asking them to behave. I'm slowly but surely moving away from this method, though it's difficult. I'll admit that part of this is practice room anxiety. I got over it at Butler, but I'm back to being intimidated by everyone from other singers to the ever-present string players (who only come out to eat, pee, and go to class).

Another is something I was totally unaware of when I got here, and it seems most others were, too. My voice has an ample amount of overtones. No one could have even begun to suspect that until the end of my sophomore year, and we still didn't really have an accurate idea. Some of the things Virginia has been doing with me has been producing some really lovely, interesting sounds that have surprised both of us. She calls it squillante, which I'd never heard before. Basically, my voice has a clearer, more forward and almost nasal tone than had ever been accessed before. And this is GREAT. I have something unique! Now if I can just learn how to use it.

But mostly, she reminded me of my instrumentalist roots. It's interesting that voice teachers automatically assume that I think differently than other singers because I have a very solid instrumental background. I sometimes wonder if they're right about that. Anyway, Virginia pointed out (and my accompanist concurred) that instrumentalists approach learning a piece in a very different way than vocalists to. Singers get a piece, practice it for a few weeks, and if they don't get it they give up. A pianist will, for example, spend hours in a practice room repeating the same passage, and they'll do it again and again for weeks. Virginia assured me that it can take years to truly learn an aria like this. She told me of one aria that she remembers practicing at the piano with her first child in her lap. She performed that aria for the first time when that child was 18 years old.

So, essentially I was crying because I have unrealistic expectations for myself. I knew grad school was going to be harder and that more was going to be expected of me, but in this case my expectations exceeded what was reasonable. I guess I'd rather do that than the other way around.