Today's advise: Do something that you are afraid will make you look foolish.
You'll feel better because you made a fool of yourself and the world didn't end.
The first singing lesson was a low-key but liberating experience. My teacher (who is at least 10 years younger than I am but sports a beard I couldn't grow in this lifetime) lives in a dilapidated green house in Rochester's "Neighborhood of the Arts." I knew I had the right house because I could hear the saxophone from the street. When I peeked through the screen (yes, it was that warm today), he just nodded at me and kept playing. I followed him into his music room, where he set the sax on a pedestal between two electric guitars. Further along the wall was an acoustic guitar and a gorgeous vermilion mandolin. No banjo in sight, which was odd, as that's his specialty.
I guess I should clarify that I'm not taking vocal lessons, exactly. I'm taking music lessons, but my instrument is going to be my voice. It's more portable than a piano, you see, and thus easier to practice while I'm driving. We began the lesson with some low-level musical aptitude testing to see what I already knew. The conclusion is that I can tell the difference between double and triple time, I can tell the difference between major and minor keys, and I can repeat a melody that I hear. I cannot, however, maintain that melody in the presence of a harmony. We then sang together to check my technique, and from this we learned that I breathe correctly (yeah, yoga!), but I don't vocalize well. What followed then was a lot of singing scales while performing strange visualization exercises involving "pointing" my vocal chords and then "projecting" the notes equally outward onto a level plane. By the end of the lesson I could hear an improvement in how I was singing (particularly notes at the upper end of my range), but I'm fascinated that abstract imagery can affect the way I shape and hold notes.
I recorded myself singing along with a recording of "Latter Days" by Over the Rhine. I was going to embed it here as a digital archive of where I'm starting from. Unfortunately (or fortunately, as the case may be), Blogger only supports embedded video. I suppose I could make a blank video with just a sound-track, but... eh. Why bother? Let's just say that it's not bad (or at least not opening-round-of-American-Idol bad), but it's a long way from good.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I went through the same discovery learning to do improv banjo solos in the weekly bluegrass jam. 50% of the work is learning *not* to be afraid of producing a horrible, sucky solo. Once you've lost the fear of failure, then it's just a matter of learning licks and praticing.
"Failure is ALWAYS an option." That's how you iterate and improve.
Hi Ben,
From your formula, if 50% of the work is learning *not* to be afraid of suckiness, is the other 50% learning to *not* BE sucky, or are there some other percentages in there as well?
My two practice songs are "Mole in the Ground" and "Shady Grove". Are either of those in your banjo pickin' repertoire?
Post a Comment