The Glenda Files Entry #3: A Glowing Ball of Light

While searching some old notebooks for something else, I found a few short paragraphs I had written long ago about my teaching philosophy.  The wise woman I stole this concept from was Glenda, which is why this is posted under The Glenda Files.  I hope you enjoy it.

This is not my own metaphor--I learned it from a very wise woman--but I have embellished it so much and told it so many times that I can no longer tell you what is hers and what is mine.  I believe that the voice is not something you build, as if you had been given a deluxe set of legos.  Each person's voice comes complete and intact, a glowing ball of light.  The size and color vary from person to person, but all of us have one of the beautiful glowing globes.  

Voice lessons are about gradually removing the layers of material that life creates to cover that light.  (I've always imagined the material covering my light as layers and layers of papier-mâché.)  Little by little we peel away the layers revealing the beauty beneath.

Layers may include fear, misconceptions, over thinking, over working, and a host of issues whose origin we may not be able to identify, but must learn to deal with anyway.  As a bonus, we discover that much more is revealed than just a voice; you cannot reveal the beauty of the voice without revealing the beauty of the person in whom that voice is housed.

The Glenda Files: Online Edition

In grad school, I frequently wrote personal journal entries about my experiences with my voice teacher. I also began printing copies of our correspondence and putting them in what I called my "Glenda File". Yesterday, when I found out that she had died, for a second I thought that it was really time to close the Glenda Files.  But then I realized that I will never be time to close the files.  She will continue to be a presence in my life because of the things I learned from her.  So today, The Glenda Files move to my blog.  I won't be sharing previous entries, but I think it will be good for me to write about the things I have learned.  

The Glenda Files:  Online Edition--Entry 1.  
Yesterday shortly after I heard the news, I was helping a student to find a new song.  We were singing "Only Hope" and I got to the line that says, "At the top of my lungs I'm giving it back," and I had to fight back the tears.  Everyday in my teaching, I am giving it back and paying it forward.  Glenda lives on in every lesson that each of her students teach.  

This was my Facebook post yesterday:

When I first started grad school, I would sit in the library and listen to classical singers while I did my homework. It was a great way to multi-task. But there was one singer whose performances drew me in so much that I stopped everything else to listen. 
She was my teacher, my mentor, and my friend. I am a better singer, teacher, and person because of her influence. Glenda Maurice will be greatly missed.

The Glenda Files Entry #2

Just to be clear, the very first thing I shared about Glenda was her amazing performance of Befreit.  So hopefully she will forgive the reference to a pop song in the last entry and this entry that is musical theatre.

I shared this with Glenda at her retirement party.  It really does describe us.  Our relationship had it's ups and downs and was far from perfect, but she changed me.  And I'm better for it.

This week in my studio

As we prepare for Solo and Ensemble Contest, I'm exploring ways to engage the students more in the learning process.

Last week, students evaluated their own performances using the Solo and Ensemble Adjudication Form.  I've had them assign points and give comments on good things as well as things that they can improve on.  If a student wants to work on breath support, I ask what exercises, images, etc. they already know that can help that.  Then I remind them of one or more approaches we've already discussed and maybe give them a new concept if they are ready for it.

At their next lessons, students will again evaluate themselves and come up with solutions to problems, but this time, they will be evaluating based on an audio recording of them singing.  At the following lesson, we will do video recording and have them evaluate that.

My job as a teacher is to impart new knowledge, but it is also to get students to understand and apply the knowledge they have already been given.  As one of my teachers told me, the job of a good voice teacher is to make his or her job obsolete.

Process

Read this great post by Jeannette LoVetri about singing.
http://lovetri-post.blogspot.com/2013/02/goals-versus-process.html

Here's my favorite quote:

Process oriented training takes longer and maybe isn't as glamorous in the moments when it seems like you aren't really "getting there" but if you don't rush, if you take time to absorb, experiment, listen, explore, examine, question, try and maybe even fall a bit here and there, what you learn will stick.  It will be yours forever and it will be appropriate.  

It's so nice when I find people that affirm what I have been saying for years.   Now if I could only convince my high school students whose whole lives revolve around whether or not they get a solo.  Voice lessons are not about getting a solo in the big high school show.  25 years from now that will not matter.  But the vocal skills you learned, if you were really learning them (exploring and finding ways to make them work for you), will be with you forever.

Dealing with Disappointment

For all those students who didn't get what they want, this is my advice.

First, skip criticizing the directors or judges.  It doesn't do any good.

Second, avoid tearing down the people that got what you wanted.

Third, evaulate.

• Did you invest everything in preparing for this audition/performance opportunity? 
• Did you really practice?   
• Did you practice frequently, efficiently, effectively?  
• Did you record yourself (both audio and video) practicing your performance and then listen/watch taking notes of things that you think you could have improved?  

If the answers are yes, then remind yourself that you did your best and the rest is out of your control.  Keep up the good work.  Keep digging into the details of technique and interpretation.  Keep putting yourself out there.  It may not be now or soon, but you will see the results.  

If the answers are no, then ask yourself another question.

• Was what you did instead of really refining your performance worth not getting this particular thing that you wanted?  

Sometimes the answer is yes, and if that's the case, just let go of the disappointment. You can't do everything perfectly, and you chose something that was more important to you. Priorities are good things.  If your answer was no, what can you change to make the next experience more successful?

It's the Little Things

Yes, I love watching my students progress and succeed.  But sometimes it's the little things that you really love.  For example, yesterday I sent an email about the Quarter 3 tuition payment being due on 1-24, and that afternoon a parent sent a check.  Another parent sent a check this morning.  In a few weeks, I'll be grumbling about the people that haven't paid yet, but today it makes me happy that 2 people took care of it immediately.

Today, I sent an email asking for some information from the students and in less than half an hour, the first student had responded.  Next week I'll be asking most students in person because high school kids just don't check email (even though I've asked them too), but this student checked and responded today.    I just received two other responses, still close to the half hour mark.  These are the kind of students that should ask me to write a recommendation letter.

And in a little over 6 minutes, this performance refocused my work.  Maybe I should clarify:  the amount of time spent listening was little.  The demands of the song and the artistry of the performers were anything but little.