When is a voice teacher not a voice teacher?

After what seems like about one hundred years of teaching voice, piano, organ, harpsichord, I have come to the conclusion that all teachers of music, but especially voice teachers, must wear more than one hat. You must be a well-grounded musician, you must be an expert in the fields in which you teach, you must have a vast knowledge of music in general and of your specialties in particular. Ça va sans dire, as we say.

However, teaching an external instrument, like a violin or piano, is one thing. No matter what the condition of the performer, the instrument stays pretty much the same. Just tune it once in a while.

This is not true with the voice: our internal instrument. When the singer is tired, the instrument is tired, when sick, it is sick, when unhappy, unhappy, and so on. I never met an unhappy oboe.

So in addition to the above-mentioned hats, the teacher of voice needs a degree in psychiatry. While a student of any instrument may need mental encouragement from the teacher from time to time, because of the unique position of the vocal instrument, this is much more important with the singer. And sometimes, impossible!

Some years ago a very fine Mezzo-soprano was studying with me who had a great fear of performing. In the lesson she would sing brilliantly, but put her on stage and she often fell apart. We worked together on this problem for a long time and she made some improvement, but was really never happy performing. I don't know of any course of study that can really fix this problem. A psychologist would probably be a help. I told her that I was the only person who had ever heard what she really sounded like when singing. We are still great friends and everything else she does is very well done. There was just that one quirk.

Another student who came to me some time ago spoke in an incredibly soft voice. I practically had to cup my ears to hear what she was saying when she was four feet away. And my ears are pretty good. Not a good omen for a career in voice, to say the least. Of course, she sang in the same, nearly inaudible manner. She wanted to be able to sing solos in church, so I tried to help her find more energy and more sound in a healthy way. It turned out that she was extremely depressed, which I discovered after a couple of lessons. Our sessions together often began with 45 minutes of her telling me her troubles while I, in vain, would play a chord and say 'Let's begin singing'. She was very unhappy in her marriage and didn't mind sharing with me all the reasons that this was so. She would often begin to weep, while I was still playing a chord every once in a while to try to break the spell. To get her to use more energy, I decided to start with her speaking voice. My studio in those days was a very large hall in a church. I would ask her to go to the far end of the hall and we would chat. I would ask her a question, and when she answered, if it was inaudible, I would ask, 'What was that you said?'. She finally got the idea that she had to use more energy or I would never hear her.

I tried in her singing voice to get her to use the same energy as when she spoke from a distance. Eventually she improved and sang some solos in Church that I was told went very well. However, the weeping and moaning continued in our sessions together. Her lesson was at 1:00 p.m. and I had to teach until 5:00 p.m. after she left. I was worn out by the time she left the studio. I decided that this was unfair to my students who followed her in the afternoon to let her sap my energy. I told her several times that she should see someone trained to help her with her problems. That while I was sympathetic to her woes, I was really not equipped to help her in that way. I finally, for self-preservation, had to tell her that I could no longer teach her. I'm sure she never forgave me. I try to invest myself in the lives of all of my students to the extent that seems possible and correct, but this was a case for a shrink!

More recently, a woman called to study with me. When she arrived and I asked for the music to whatever she wanted to sing, she asked if I had a computer. She wanted to do a sort of Karaoke audition. Well, of course, I have a computer, but it's in my bedroom, and I don't usually give lessons there! So she sang a Capella 'Climb Every Mountain' for me. She began in an incredibly high key. Sort of the Meliza Korjus version of the song. She also had an incredibly fast vibrato; a tremolo, actually. My handyman was working in the sun room which adjoins my studio and poked his head in the door during the lesson with a puzzled look on his face. Fortunately, she was facing the other way and didn't see our exchange of appalled glances!

I said to her, after this performance, 'You have a very fast unnatural tremolo in your voice.' She answered, 'I love to do that!'. I tried some exercises to find the natural vibrato of her voice, which I think we did, but she insisted that that was the only way she wanted to sing. This was her only lesson with me! She's probably still tremoloing somewhere! But not in my studio!

I shouldn't complain about a few singers whose emotional needs I was unable to meet and, therefore, was not able to help them very much. So many qualities go into the making of a singer. You must start with a good set of pipes! The way you use them can be improved, but no teacher can give you a sound that those pipes are not willing to sing. You must be a musical person. And you must really want to sing. It takes work to become a fine artist. Pipes alone won't do it.

I still have all my hats on and I have to use various ones from time to time to deal with my students. I love my work, which makes it all worthwhile!