Feel Freedom. Love your confidence. Be a joy bomb.

Category: Teaching Videos (Page 1 of 3)

You Don’t Need To Believe In Yourself

One time a director I respected said after an opening night, “Dan, you know what you’re doing. You just have to trust yourself.”

It meant a lot to me. And I immediately asked in my head, “Can someone please tell me how exactly one goes about trusting oneself?”

(I would go on to several years of doing just the opposite.)

When it came to career stuff, I searched and waited for this substantial self-belief I heard folks talking about.

Believe in yourself!

Look in the mirror and say in a low breathy yoga teacher voice, “I am a powerful, successful, cosmic star of stage and screen with an EGOT and nice enough abs.”

(I did have an agent one time instruct me to pull up my shirt to assess my belly, so this was a thing.)

But this feeling of invincible confidence never alighted, and I walked around thinking something must be wrong and that I might not belong in the places I wanted to sing after all.

I mean, those folks had nicer and much more smoldery headshots.

Generating all this anxiety juice was a belief I’d picked up. Maybe it was Mr. Rogers saying I was special combined with singing “One Moment in Time” in 7th grade chorus. Whatever its origin, this credo permeated everything.

Here it is:

I have to believe in myself.

This one tripped me up for years. Still does.

Where did my self belief go? I’m sure I left it right here.

So elusive.

Whoah, I must have said that out loud because here’s a news story in my Google feed about “7 Ways to Achieve Unstoppable Belief in Yourself.”

And this online course.

Oh, and YouTube heard, too.

Thanks, nosy algorithm. You always know what to serve up so that I can deceive myself that I’m making steps toward my soul’s longing through constant input, research, and notification checking.

Seriously, though, there’s that belief, right?

I need to believe in myself.

I don’t think you do.

We waste a lot of energy and brain glucose trying to conjure a Marvel hero mind-state when we could just start repeating a lyric and seeing how it lights up in our imagination.

That would be one building block of a song you’d have added to your artistic structure, and it also adds stone and mortar to something that does indeed come in handy:

CONFIDENCE

Wait. Belief? Confidence? Samesies, right?

Nope.

Confidence comes from the Latin meaning with (con) trust (fidere).

When you trust something, there’s usually a basis for that trust.

And the basis for that trust is your skill.

And in order to build your skill, you have to show up regularly and do the things that build that skill.

And in order to show up, the only thing you need to believe is that if you keep doing the things that lead to vocal freedom, expressive honesty, and creative fulfillment, you’ll sing great, open your heart, and do work that satisfies you.

None of this requires you to believe in yourself.

In fact, as soon as you stop requiring yourself to have this assurance, you can start doing the simple (not easy) work of daily noise making, story telling, and then sharing it with folks.

And anywhere you start is fine.

One action, even if it needs some prerequisites, will reveal what you need to go back and bolster, and you can take it from there.

It’s messy. It’s frustrating. And it’s worth it.

Because while I don’t think you need to believe IN yourself, the thing that’s crucial is to believe yourself.

This means noticing when your body vibrates with excitement and possibility. And when it contracts.

And actually listening to that. It’ll lead you in all kinds of unexpected directions.

I’ve noticed lately that I’ve been ignoring my body brain in favor of my noggin brain, and it’s caused a lot of futile trying and anxiety.

When I’ve tuned in and acknowledged what my body’s vibing — that I want to share more singing in more places — I don’t know how it’s all happening, but things are already flowing. 

I’ll keep you posted on that.

In the meantime, please take a sec to check in with your own body. Is the path you picked feeling good in your cells? It’s not a joke. You came to the planet with a good guidance system. I invite us to use it.

Because it’s true — there is only one you and only one me. And folks need to hear the story only we can sing.

Love much,

Dan

PSHere’s a video about how I’m finding the key for “I Ain’t Gonna Let You Break My Heart Again.” I also talk about the value of gibberish and also one of the vocal pitfalls we theatre singers fall into when we sing contemp/commercial styles. (Complete with a pretty adorable Noah and Jude appearance.)

PPS I signed the contract and everything — I will be singing at The Green Room 42 with Scott Nicholas on ? on Saturday, Oct 7 at 1pm.

Tickets aren’t live yet, but they start at $20. There’ll be a live stream, too, if you can’t get your body to NYC. Just click here to add to your calendar 🙂
 

PPPS This short from Tim Ferris’s interview with Brené Brown is not playing. It’s a call to all of us that the armor is no longer serving us.

I Went Ahead and Did It — also, how to practice

I went ahead and booked a date to do a show in NYC. (It’s Saturday, Oct. 7 at 1pm at The Green Room 42 if you wanna mark your calendar. Tix avail once I get my form all filled out.)

I booked it because I found out my very SPECIAL creative resistance isn’t your garden variety opposition.

Oh no, your singular unicorn enneagram 4 here has to have the stealth, undetectable kind of creative blocks that can shape shift into all manner of benevolent forms.

Some manifestations include —

Telling myself I should only focus on one thing (prolly just teaching.)

Telling myself that taking time to work on creative projects is selfish and makes me a substandard dad and hubby.

YouTube videos.

I told you a couple weeks ago about how I got the tappity tap on my shoulder to start walking my talk and put my money where my mic is. ?

So, I did.

Now I’m like, “Woo!” And “Crap.” But mostly “Woooo!”

I got in my studio early this morning and started making noises and breaking down the opening number I’m planning. It might be a terrible idea, and it might, as the kids say, slap.

We’ll see.

But right now, there are some parts that are bad.

Noah heard the video playback as I toasted waffles this morning, and said, “Daddy, you’re not the champion of the Frozen 2 song.”

(See? Maybe a terrible idea. I’ll keep you posted.)

That’s what all this processy stuff is for.

Things I remembered this morning I wanna share with you are —

2 questions you need to sit with and know for yourself song by song and phrase by phrase:

  1. Who am I?
  2. What do I believe is happening?

The answers to these will guide every vocal decision you make. If you don’t have a clue about these ideas, you’ll lack a very important compass.

You’ll jump in to making sounds and learning notes disconnected from the meaning of the song, and if that’s not clear to you, it won’t be clear to folks listening.

And while you may sound objectively terrific, the reason you’re singing at all will be lost. (Sounding good isn’t a good enough reason.)

I get anxious about whether or not I can make the sounds well, so I rush ahead to make sure I can figure that out.

I have to slow down and let these questions percolate, give myself some time not to know, and even let them bubble while I go about my day. Usually the fun answers come when I’m scrubbing something or walking somewhere.

Always ask those questions.

In each song, even if you’re being you and not playing a character, you’re expressing a facet of your identity, and there are thousands of possibilities. And that point of view is gonna inform how you make sounds about what you think is happening.

The other crucial thing for me is to video myself.

This provides empirical evidence in all directions.

I listen back to things I think must have sounded rough, and I’m pleasantly surprised. Or I listen back to something I think I nailed, and I’m like, whoah, I’m gonna need to approach that differently.

This happens a lot with intonation. I’ll hear the fundamental frequency strong in my inside hearing, but the way it comes out in the room is flat. Womp womp.

I have to shape my tract with more bright color to mitigate that. It sounds too bright in my head, but I listen back, and I’m like, “Oh, ok. That’s solid.”

You’ll also listen to yourself with empathetic mirror neurons and be able to feel where you have inhibitors and energy blocks.

Happened to me today as well. I listened back and felt constriction around my larynx a couple times — “Hmmmm. That felt pretty good when I sang it. But listening back alerted me that there could be more ease and freedom.”

I’m excited, and it feels great to listen to your heart and walk accordingly.

And remember — if you’re gonna be in NYC Saturday Oct 7 and you ain’t already got lunch plans, put the show on your calendar. Here’s a Google Calendar Link you can add — just click it, and it’s there!

There’s gonna be some Roy Orbison, Tracy Chapman, William Finn, Rufus Wainwright, Bonnie Raitt, Mr. Sondheim, Craig Carnelia, Carlisle Floyd, Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, and songs from The Grass Harp and The Spitfire Grill. That’s the plan right now.

I’ll let you know if it becomes an all-polka show.

And I’m joined by my friend and colleague Scott Nicholas on keys who is the objective bees’ knees. ??

And if you want a little more behind the scenes on how to construct a program be it for your own cabaret, one person show, or plaint to a credit card customer service because you blanked on your payment date, I made you this video:

Always remember — there’s only one you, and folks need to hear the story only you can sing.

In fact, I think that’ll be the title of my show — “Only One You.” See how you inspire me?

Boom! Now go sing.

And

Love much,

Dan

PS I’ve recently discovered Nahre Sol’s YouTube channel — classically trained pianist Juilliard grad who shares terrific in-depth content on what she’s working in. Recommend!

PPS If you haven’t read Steven Pressfield, he has a terrific book called The War of Art.

How to Make Belting Feel Terrible — The Ironic Use of Brandi Carlile’s “The Joke” as a Torture Device

The tough thing about the studio I use at school: it sits directly beneath a practice room.

Sometimes it sounds like incidental orchestra warm up.

Sometimes I hear prolonged reed instrument embouchure masochism.

And sometimes singers get in there, and I remember that nobody knows how to practice.

(Sounds like a useful video series. I’d just have to make the title “How to Get Good and Slay Your Foes,” or something like that.)

The other day, though, a diligent person above me at 8 The Fenway decided they was gonna do themselves some high belting.

And they’d decided belting meant making a strong sound with their vocal folds REALLY together all the time.

I understand. That’s a logical thing to think. It’s just that so much of singing is weird and counterintuitive.

I tried to focus on my work, but I just kept hearing this somewhat familiar melody being emphatically forced through this person’s larynx.

My mirror neurons wouldn’t let me notice anything else besides the auditory empathy constricting my throat.

Then there were the vowels.

Oh no, friend, you’re not going to sing that note with that vowel the way you want.

I almost changed into my nobody-asked-me-but-I-must-help Vocal Pathology Avoidance Man superhero costume and bounded upstairs, but I had no time. And that woulda been weird.

Then I realized that somewhat familiar melody was “The Joke” by Brandi Carlile.

I love “The Joke.”

But there was nothing funny about what was happening here. Stop doing this to yourself. And this song.

So, there’s a slew of stuff I could say about the nuanced interworkings of how to make effective Mode 1 (basically chest voice) sounds around and above your passaggio.

But here are three takeaways we can learn while we pray for our friend’s vocal future.

The Voice Comes Through, Not From

The power source for your voice starts in your torso (well, your whole body, really, but, again, another article) — your abs and ribs, depending on what kinda sound you’re making, who you’re being, and what’s happening in the story.

This moves the air THROUGH (yes, yelling at you) your vocal folds and causes them to vibrate.

When folks make belty sounds, the brain somehow decides that the source of the screlt is at the throat level, so the body recruits all kinds of effort around your larynx. No bueno.

The air movement ITSELF helps with vocal fold closure, so when I don’t collaborate with this physical reality, I fight my own body and make things real real hard.

The breath, vibration, and communication energy come THROUGH, not from the folds.

This is also why singing’s so scary and tricky — it’s a flow that you can’t stop and edit before it leaves your mouth.

Belty Sounds Aren’t Just Dependent on Your Folds

Lots of folks think, “Belt? Ok, engage vocal fold slam!”

There are lots of ways to make called-out, excited, risky, wailing, engaged, scream-adjacent sounds. And so much of this depends on your phonatory pattern and the shape of your vocal tract.

And when you discover these ways, you’re gonna be a little angry at how easy they feel.

What we call belting is often one of the most efficient ways to make noise, and it requires a teeny bit of air. Yeah, it’s robust, but the actual feeling of efficient sound making is some crazy return on your breath investment.

Belty sounds also collaborate only with certain vowels.

If you want to look this up, check out Complete Vocal Technique’s work on this, and look up Overdrive and Edge modes. I think their breakdown of this is one of the most straightforward ways of understanding belty sounds. You can also watch a video I did on vowels here.

Your Body Knows How to Belt

The family of sounds we’ve come to call “belting” are all very natural human sounds. That’s why we love it. They’re real, engaging, risky, and the let the emotions through. They’re healing.

So learn to listen to your bod.

And listening to Brandi Carlile is a good lesson in this. She sings straight from her hear guts spirit errythang.

In “The Joke,” the melody of the chorus climbs and climbs — that’s story structure telling you these folks who are laughing one day won’t be.

Just that line, “Let ‘em laugh while they can.”

That “laugh” for 2 beats — what does your body feel when you picture folks pushing somebody down chuckling because they have the upper hand? Do your justice hackles get up? Might that affect how your voice calls our the word “laugh” for 1.5 seconds? Of course it will.

I wrote about the specific how-to right here — how your gut-brain can teach you to sing almost anything.

Super Important Takeaway

And here’s the most important piece of this.

I’ve made the equivalent noises as our friend SHOWING UP and working in the practice room. Good job up there!

I’ve worked really hard and been mystified by how to accomplish a vocal task. I’ve thrown all the spaghetti at all the walls and made the wounded animal noises to prove it. Often in front of folks.

Your voice is resilient. Yes, there’s fragility there, and we have to take care of it.

AND, it’s so strong and capable. Think of all it can do. So trust it. If you feel tired, or anything feels uncomfortable, stop, and don’t do it that way again.

Get help! From someone who knows what they’re talking about. Someone who can demonstrate knowledge about how your physiology, psychology, and soul make sounds.

Mike Ruckles in NYC has great advice on this too:

And be kind to you. You’re going to suck at stuff that’s new. Let’s let ourselves be a beginner for heaven’s sake. Talking to myself, too. Oof.

And if you want to learn to make these noises in straightforward, easy ways that make sense, work, and are fun, just reach out and work with me.

I’ve made all the mistakes, and I hear this stuff every day, and it’s my absolute delight to help you sing free, joyful, and heal stuff in the process.

Singing is sneaky like that.

There’s only one you, and folks need to hear the story only you can sing. Now go sing.

CVT’s Research Site

Epic Performance of “The Joke” at The Grammys.

Rehearsal with Pop-Up Noggin Noise — “Nell” Gabriel Faure

If your brain is abuzz with activity while you sing, you’re not alone.  

I’m going to give you some insight into what’s going on inside the mental zone while I’m rehearsing with this pop-up video. I’m getting ready for a recital, and you’ll be able to see what’s a-happening in my noggin.  

So take a look. You’ll see, it’s pretty crazy in there.

And I hope that you’ll feel somewhat comforted by our shared neuroses. Enjoy 🙂

Nell (poem by Leconte de Lisle) Setting by Gabriel Fauré

Ta rose de pourpre, à ton clair soleil,
Ô Juin, étincelle enivrée;
Penche aussi vers moi ta coupe dorée:
Mon cœur à ta rose est pareil.

Sous le mol abri de la feuille ombreuse
Monte un soupir de volupté;
Plus d’un ramier chante au bois écarté,
Ô mon cœur, sa plainte amoureuse.

Que ta perle est douce au ciel enflammé,
Étoile de la nuit pensive!
Mais combien plus douce est la clarté vive
Qui rayonne en mon cœur charmé!

La chantante mer, le long du rivage,
Taira son murmure éternel,
Avant qu’en mon cœur, chère amour, ô Nell,
Ne fleurisse plus ton image!

English (Richard Stokes's translation)
Your crimson rose in your bright sun
Glitters, June, in rapture;
Incline to me also your golden cup:
My heart is like your rose.

From the soft shelter of shady leaves
Rises a languorous sigh;
More than one dove in the secluded wood
Sings, O my heart, its love-lorn lament.

How sweet is your pearl in the blazing sky,
Star of meditative night!
But sweeter still is the vivid light
That glows in my enchanted heart!

The singing sea along the shore
Shall cease its eternal murmur,
Before in my heart, dear love, O Nell,
Your image shall cease to bloom!

I Blame Uta — You got style, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise

Before college I read, “A Challenge for the Actor” by Uta Hagen.

I didn’t know how to pronounce her name, but I took notes on all the strange exercises she taught: 

☕️ spending inordinate amounts of time with cups of coffee experiencing smells and feels,

? pretending you were the character before and after you were on stage,

? and writing down all kinds of biographical information that you never even talk about in the show.

Sounded like a lot of work. And I was THERE for it.

She said I should swim and play tennis for exercise. Great! I already did both. 

Then she came for my regional dialect.

She didn’t single me out by twang, but I knew my Surry County drawl wouldn’t fly at HB Studios.

I broke the news to my dad (whom I’d continue to call “Deddy.” They couldn’t take THAT away from me.)

“Deddy,” I said, hoisting a spool of rope onto a high shelf in his warehouse. “I don’t want you to think I’m putting on airs, but I’m going to have to work on my accent.”

He understood, and so I set out to create a composite dialect profile that was part Tom Hanks part Leo DiCaprio (it was the Titanic and Romeo and Juliet year.)

No matter how many flourish syllables I eliminated from words like “there” and my first name, my rolling hills DNA still vibrated.

The vicar at the church I attended in London always greeted me with a hearty, “Well howdy Danny Callaway!” 

While it no longer feels natural to say “win” and “when” as multisyllabic homonyms, the southern spice still seasons my vowels and vocal melody.

Since I’ve lived in lots of different spots, I’ve studied humans with different ways of talking. 

And it made me realize there’s a direct connection there with musical style.

A human usually speaks and moves the way they do because of the sounds and movements they were surrounded by growing up. These become ways to connect and communicate.

When I lived in London, my American dialect stayed in tact. But I changed inflections without noticing it. (So that folks knew I was actually asking a question.)

(It took me three months to understand that a question was being asked in the first place with the Brit pitch down-swoop before a slight rise. In North Carolina, a question was communicated through an upward slide of at least a perfect 5th through diphthong extravaganzas.)

The more folks I encountered, the more I learned that musical style is dialect.

Musical style grows from the soil and soul of a place. 

Reggae, hip hop, British music hall, bluegrass, metal, 80s pop, 1920s crooning, bel canto, bossa nova, Vaudeville.

Each of these style names evokes place and culture. 

The big mistake theatre singers make when they seek to embody different styles is that they focus first on how a style sounds.

What needs to happen is to back up and ask: Who am I? 

My ego identity is going to be very different if I grew up in Black Mountain, North Carolina, as opposed to Caracas, Venezuela. 

Where did this style grow up, and who am I as a communicator of this style?

That’s where to begin. 

This question will change everything because you’ll start to embody the style rather than parrot sounds. 

On a road trip from North Carolina back up to Massachusetts, I studied of a group of men talking around a Sheetz gas pump. Their bodies spoke in Surry County; the way they laughed and moved was like they had time to eat a slice of pecan pie while they guffawed at rude jokes.

I imagined a similar scenario in Massachusetts, and the bodies and voices were very different. Tighter torsos, tenser shoulders, quicker arms and hands. MAYBE time for half a Dunkies chocloate sprinkle donut. 

Reminds me of a dance callback I had for Jersey Boys. I couldn’t get the style down because it was sharp and compact. Not only did it feel alien, it felt wrong in my body. You can take the boy out of Surry County….

So, when you approach musical style AND dialect in any material you work on, ask those questions: Who am I? Where did I grow up, and what are my assumptions about how I relate? Let that affect your body and then see how the voice follows.

You yourself show up with your voice and body based on a whole life’s collection of influences and choices about how you want to connect to the world.

The characters you play and the songs you sing are no different.

And inside of there, there’s the one and only you singing whatever style you’re singing, and folks need to hear the story only you can sing (in whatever dialect that may be).

Love much,

Dan

PS Here are a couple of video highlights from this week: A helpful way to think about your authentic sound

and a rehearsal for an upcoming recital. “L’heure exquise” by Reynaldo Hahn accompanied by the terrific Scott Nicholas.

The Truth About Your Authentic Sound

We mean well, but voice teachers are often sending students off on a quixotic quest to find “their authentic voice.”

Theater singers of all kinds have spent a lot of time on this search for what their “sound” is.

When you’re a theater singer, your job is to embody multiple different ego identities. You don’t want to be a singular brand because that limits the myriad expressions you’re capable of.

Biologically, empirically, and scientifically, you already showed up on the planet with a singular voice that has never been and will never be repeated. Your particular combination of lungs, larynx, and vocal tract is your own.

Vibrato Summer Camp ?️

Opening Session

Vibrato can be one of the more mysterious aspects of singing, and when it’s not going how you want, it can be a source of a lot of frustration and anxiety.

In this video from my childhood back yard, I share a little of my vibrato back story and show you a way of perceiving vibrato that’s been very helpful to me.

The Reasons Vibrato Issues Are Hard to Work On

When a teacher or director shares an opinion about a vocal function like vibrato, it can feel like someone just made a comment about your physicality.

And that’s because your vibrato (and all vocal function) is indeed part of your physicality.

In this video, I’ll walk you through some of the primary roadblocks that stop singers from singing to the other side where there’s choice, facility, confidence, and skill.

When you use evidence-based ways to bring freedom and release to your singing and you show up and do the things, and you gain skill, freedom, and the joy to share.

How to Free Up Vibrato That’s Wider Than You Want It to Be

In this video, I’ll take you through steps that have helped me to get my voice moving in smooth and efficient ways and how to calibrate your vibrato.

If you’re experiencing a wider vibrato wave than you’d like, this video will give you some tools to start working with that.

You’ll learn how to troubleshoot areas that might be holding on and how to collaborate and cooperate with your body to get things coordinating well.

How to Free Up Vibrato That’s Quicker Than You Want It To Be

We’re talking about the 2 principle areas to address when your vibrato is quicker than you want it to be — the vocal tract and the breath system.

2 Simple Confidence Builders for Vocal Transitions (featuring morning mucus ?️)

Here are two more things to think about as you navigate coordinations in your voice that can be on the trickier side.

In this video, I talk about how to check in with your breath management and dynamic support to see if that may be an issue in what’s happening at the vocal fold level, and then I also show you a way to grease the wheels around your particular transitional zones.

You’ll also get the benefit of hearing my early morning vocal cobwebs, and how I work through these. ?️ 🙂

One Exercise to Dissolve Your Head/Chest Divide

“Head Voice” and “Chest Voice” are just two of the many terms that continue to confuse singers.

In this video, I teach you one exercise that helps. You’ll understand how your voice is a continuum of possibilities, not cubbyholes or categories of abrupt change (unless you want that for stylistic purposes.)

This is a contemporary theater singer take on the classic messa di voce — it helps you discover how your voice transitions from mode 2 (head/thin) to mode 1 (chest/thick) and then back to mode 2.

If you’ve never done an exercise like this, you will probably encounter some speed bumps along the way.

Stay with it, and just notice where the abrupt changes happen.

Over time, your laryngeal muscles, your brain, and neurons will all start to coordinate to hand over phonatory responsibility.

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