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

Tag: musical theatre

How to Increase Vocal Range for Musical Theatre Singing

There’s an ongoing complaint that musical theatre rep keeps getting higher and higher. And that’s because musical theatre rep has gotten higher and higher.

If you survey what folks were singing generally in the 1950s and ’60s and compare that to what was shaking down just 20 years ago, you’ll see — things have changed, Raoul.

It’s like when a runner breaks a world record, humans want to see how much faster they can run. Same with singing — it’s a muscular event, and our mirror neurons want to witness the risk and excitement of high notes sung with skill and beauty.

And yeah, you’re right, there’s not been a race to the low frequencies in this regard, so a lot of folks with deliciously low voices are feeling very left out of the current commercial musical theatre market. I have thoughts on this that I’ll share with you later.

The shape of musical theater singing changed in the 1960s, really with the advent of HAIR and when rock music entered the scene and then all kinds of styles found their way to the stage. Microphones and electronically amplified music as a standard meant that singers could do a lot of different things with their voices, and that changed the game.

Understanding the framework of your own instrument

This is where understanding your own vocal sweet zone is so important. If you focus on Western classical singing, your voice type will be categorized — lyric soprano, dramatic mezzo, leggiero tenor, basso profundo, etc.

This is mostly because you’re singing acoustically with no amplification when this is your field.

When you’re a theatre singer, it’s important to know where your voice feels most efficient, easy, and powerful, AND you also have a lot more leeway than our classical classification system has handed down to us. You’re a human with a voice, and there are tons of possibilities. Especially with a microphone.

Questioning Your Limits

If a song or role calls your name that you’re not capable of executing range-wise right now, I invite you to question whether you might be able to accomplish it one day with the right tools.

I’m not advocating delusion here. I’ll never sing “Glitter and Be Gay,” and no one’s ever going to say, “Dan really gives me Barry White vibes.” But I have tons of other possibilities available.

I want you to understand that your voice is full of potential and possibility, and just like regular yoga practice will get you bending in ways you never thought possible, regular systems of vocal practice will change your identity as a singing storyteller. You’ll sing into new ways of making sound that your ego doesn’t even have a name for right now.

And of course, this skill will open up all kinds of possibility for you as a theatre singer.

What to understand and how you can leverage it

Real quick, some basic understanding of anatomy and physiology will help you out here —

Lower pitches mean thicker shorter vocal folds.

Higher pitches mean stretchier folds.

Think of a guitar string. If you loosen the string, lower frequency. If you tighten the string, higher frequency.

Your vocal folds are vibrating bodies like the guitar string.

Looser or shorter = lower pitch.

Tighter or longer = higher pitch.

There’re also different ways of singing different frequencies,

different modes and registers where the same pitch happens with different coordinations.

There are also different vocal tract configurations in which pitches can happen.

Vocal tract just means the space from your folds to the opening of your mouth, and there are thousands of possibilities for shaping that and the sounds you can make.

Pitch happens inside your larynx

Your larynx can figure it out. If your physiology is capable, the things inhibiting you from singing certain pitches often happen before or after the vibration event in the larynx. I’ll lay those out for you later.

All these ideas will loosen up your idea of what it is to make different frequencies with your mechanism.

Before I tell you how you can sing higher notes with confidence,

you need to pay some attention to the lower frequencies first.

This will give your mechanism balance. If you ignore the low frequencies, your folds will get used to singing the stretchy rubber band sounds and won’t have any quality time letting the loose and juicy folds vibrate at the other end of that spectrum.

And the stretchier frequencies give important info to the low meaty vibes, and the thicker fold events have things to teach the higher sounds. You want to make sounds in all frequency capabilities of your voice.

I’ll link a simple series of exercises to coordinate and bolster your low sounds at the end of this.

Now, when you look to extend your capability and confidence singing higher frequencies,

it’s important to sing these pitches in thick and thin fold coordinations and the continuum in between.

You’ll want to sing pitches in Mode 2/head voice and Mode1/chest voice.

After you’re finding some ease with both of these coordinations, you’re going to want to discover that they’re connected. I’ll link a messa di voce exercise at the end of this as well that show you how to do that.

In all of these ways of making sounds, the important truth to incorporate into your body is that the voice works like a stretchy rubbery situation. It’s not a series of compartments.

This cubby hole idea is a big reason why singer brains want to physically reach for high frequencies or shoehorn pitches into imagined compartments.

Singing pitches is much more akin to intonation with a stringed instrument where there are millimeters of variation as opposed to a piano keystroke.

And here’s a list of things that could be making singing and pitch flexibility very hard for you:

Pushing too much air

We think more is more when it comes to singing, and we’re wrong. You need enough air, no more. Especially when it comes to higher frequencies, we think we have to pound the support.

This has the unhelpful outcome of pummeling the underside of our closed folds with a ton of air pressure, and all the laryngeal muscles have to adjust. This creates all kinds of mayhem and the opposite of the balanced energized flow we need for your brilliant folds to sing different frequencies.

Ask yourself: how much dynamic support do I need for this phrase or note? Listen to your body, give it a number value from 0 to 10, and experiment. I’ll link a video at the end of this article that talks more about this.

Thinking the voice comes from not through

We perceive the source of the voice at the throat level. Not helpful.

The energy that comes THROUGH the folds originates in your breath-moving muscles, the abs and ribs, depending on what style you’re singing. And those muscles live inside the entire body’s energetic framework.

This is why bodywork modalities are so important for singers to promote muscular and skeletal awareness, alignment, strength, and flexibility.

The cubby hole concept

Like I said before, singing is a stretchy and malleable event. The moment we start to perceive the voice in terms of piano keys or compartments, we get rigid, and we lose the sense of flexibility we need to let the voice show us what it can do.

Slamming way too much vocal fold together

We get really local in the folds sometimes when we’re trying to make a pitch happen.

We apply pushups or pick-something-heavy-up logic to singing, and it’s a very different muscular event.

It’s something that happens with delicacy and robustness together, and you’re learning to engage certain muscle groups while others relax, and that’s because singing is weird. And you guessed it. There’s a video for that.

Not allowing the larynx to do its thing

This goes together with the last one. But your larynx is a very brilliant structure. It literally hangs from the hyoid bone, the only structure in your body that does this. And it has an intelligence all its own.

The quick and dirty advice on this is to talk kindly to your larynx and tell it, “I trust you.” Then you give it absolute permission to go wherever it wants to go. You’ll make some sounds you don’t like, and you’ll discover a lot of things you wouldn’t have when you were trying to hold it in place because a teacher somewhere talked a lot about a stable larynx.

If you’re singing, you’re moving, and your larynx should be like a buoy on the water, able to respond expertly to the breath energy you’re providing.

As a general rule, I tell mine he can elevate if he wants to when I’m singing higher pitches. Experiment with this. See how high it can go! You can always let it chill down.

The actual length of the vocal tract (folds to mouth) affects how easily a note will come through, and it will vary song to song and style to style.

Tune in to your own body and get someone with good ears and incorporated skill themselves to walk the road with you.

And most importantly, listen to your own body.

Your singular voice is capable of so many things, and it has colors and expression that are singular to you.

You have to tune in and feel what feels good, be courageous and try new things so that your vocal identity can include lots of different sounds.

It’s also important to recognize and embrace the frame of your vocal limitations. Great creativity always flourishes inside constraints. Like a sonnet.

For example, I can sing low notes, but if I just hear a bass baritone talk, I know my voice is a different instrument than that. I’ll never have the power and resonance in lower frequencies that they have. Therefore, I lean into what my voice enjoys doing. We all have different sounds to contribute to the choir.

But now back to that question from the beginning of this —

since the current commercial musical theatre celebrates and features higher pitches in many instances, what do you do when your sweet spot is in the low zone and doesn’t coincide with what the market is currently doing?

First, if you want to work in the commercial musical theatre, ask yourself how much can you bring your skills into the middle of the Venn diagram. How much range can you stretch into while feeling like it’s comfortable and true to how you want to express as an artist?

(I often say if you’re a baritone with range extension, that’s vocal gold because you have the leverage in your lows and access to the top. Boom.)

Second, if you truly feel like your skill set doesn’t have a lot of overlap with market demand, where can you use it where you’ll feel artistically fulfilled? What styles do you love to sing? And what musical rep is actually out there that you can specialize in? Thing is, having a truly sparkly low voice is rare, and if you do it well, you will stand out in the market and be known for your ability.

And this is simple, and no one wants to hear it, but it’s the absolute truth: how can you choose yourself? You want to sing and share the sweet zone of your voice, get a musical director you trust, make a show, and invite folks.

Make ways to share your voice that you’re in control of, and you won’t be as tempted to be angry at market trends that skew to screlt.

Always reach out if you have questions at dan@dancallaway.com.

And here are those video links to help you out:

Building access and strength in your low voice — coming real soon

Linking Mode 1 and Mode 2

How much breath do you need?

Why Singing is Weird

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.

It’s Not You, It’s [ee] — Vocal Breakups and the Truth About Where the Cracks Really Come From

I got to sing “Marry Me a Little” in a production of Putting it Together at South Coast Repertory about 12 years go, and one night I cracked. Bad.

If you know the song, it’s at the end when it goes “Sooooomeooooone!”

It was an A-flat. Emotion had choked me up, and I was surprised by a sound that came out of my face not unlike an adorable video I saw recently of a donkey reunitng with the girl who raised it as a foal.

The performance was connected and honest, so I moved on.

BUT, the next night you know what happened. 

Oh no. Here comes that note. Why did it crack last night? How do I KEEP it from cracking tonight? More space? More breath? More everything? Yes. More everything. Go!

And, crack again. Only this time self-conscious and NOT connected.

[Enter singer neurosis death spiral.]

There was even a review on a ticketing site lamenting how I started the song so well but just didn’t have the chops to finish it.

(Another reviewer said I was upstaged by my mullet haircut — I didn’t even know I HAD a mullet. They’re in again, right? Or is that over?)

(I guess I was getting a little “party in the back” there.)

Anyway, I didn’t know what the problem was. I didn’t know how to leverage physiology and acoustics to ensure I wouldn’t surprise an audience like a screaming goat video. 

And this wasn’t an isolated incident.

I’ve cracked like a wounded beast singing an aria in a grad school concerto competition hearing.

I pummeled myself with merciless self-talk through many undergrad productions,

and I even cracked once when I sang “I feeeeel you, Johaaaaannnnaaaaaa!” with the orchestra all blasting during a Sweeney Todd in LA. (A musical director I worked with later reminded me of the fact as he had been in the audience. So kind.)

So, I’ve felt the pain of the crack.

And I didn’t get clear tools in my own body as to why this was happening until my late 30s. And when I did, I was ready to preach the vocal register acoustic agreement gospel to anyone who’d listen. 

One myth singers beat themselves up with is that if they’re cracking or experiencing rough transitions where they want them to be smooth, something clearly has to be wrong with them and their voice. Their instrument is faulty.

False.

While yes, sometimes you may need to make an appointment with a laryngologist and get a scope to make sure everything’s scope-acetic, the vast majority of the time, the events we call cracks or breaks happen because of one of two things:

Register confusion

&/or

Vocal tract shape. 

With register confusion, you’re unfamiliar with the categories of sounds your vocal folds make, and you don’t have a ready recognition of what they feel and sound like inside your own head. 

And with vocal tract shape, that just means that the different parts of your throat and mouth have a direct effect on what’s going on in the vocal folds.

(and PS, different registers only cooperate with certain vowels. Some folks say [i/ee] is their favorite vowel, but it’s not going to love you back on every note in every mode.)

It’s enough to get your ears and brain all twisted in a knot, so this week, I’m going to break down the most common snags we hit when it comes to understanding registration and how to collaborate with physics and your physiology.

(It’s almost always counterintuitive and opposite your brain’s perception of what needs to happen.) 

You can follow these mini-lessons on my YouTube channel this week. And while you’re at it, you can check out last week’s videos about how to prepare your audition packets.

The takeaway from this is that almost any technical snag you hit is solve-able, and if you have an evidence-based solution to try, you can show up on a consistent basis, try the thing, and then you get better. 

Now apply this vocal truth to your wider life. I’m working on it, too. 

Example: I sat down to structure a teaching and class schedule for the summer, and my body got all hot, I broke into a mild sweat, and my heart rate went up.

A deep deep part of me that fears making a decision and going with it was responding. Still don’t understand it all, but I was like, “Oh, there’s something deeper holding me back from finishing this very practical task.”

That’s often the way.

And the good thing is that when you just start taking small, practical actions, deeper things unearth themselves in their own time. It’s when you’re in action dunked in sweet compassion that things become clear. 

So, join me on the YouTube (or Instagram or Facebook), I’ll be posting this info on all of the human psychology manipulation platforms. 

In the meantime, sing something, please ?. Because there’s only one you, and folks need to hear the story only you can sing.

Love MUCH,

Dan

PS Here’s “Marry Me a Little” from a faculty recital last year (without the crack this time). Accompanied by the inimitable (and my piano boyfriend) Scott Nicholas.

PPS Here’s that sweet donkey and the girl who raised him video.

PPPS And here’s the YouTube playlist on audition prep so far. Like and subscribe. You know what to do!

This is why I’d suck at crime. So I wrote you these poems.

Parenting toddlers means that Melissa and I are swear-word spelling bee ninjas.

We can cuss a blue streak letter by letter faster than Cookie Monster can devour chocolate-sprinkled carbs.

However, the thing about our system that fails is that when Melissa speaks in alphabet code, I’ll reply with,

“Oooooh, so you want to take the boys to the SCIENCE CENTER?” 

We joke that I would suck at a life of crime.

I’d be the one by the getaway car asking the police officer how fast she thought I could get from zero to 90 because, after all, we’re going to need all the horsepower we can get once my accomplices roll out with the loot.

This is why I’m a musical theatre misfit toy. I wanna bring what’s inside to the outside and sing about it for three maybe four mins. 

It’s also why I write poems. 

Here are three that I wrote for you in the last couple weeks.

I hope you’ll let yourself have a moment of slowdown, read one whose title draws your eye, and have a smile or heart-hug moment you wouldn’t’ve had otherwise.

Sparrow in Manhattan

I always remember a story Ghana told me
At work in downtown Manhattan one morning.
She saw a sparrow on a railing. Free
And loud, she sang in celebration adorning
The horn-exhausted air with vibrant chirp-
Chirps! God’s eye was on this creature chanting
Significance into the tiny park. Usurp-
-ing her iron throne was impossible. Just planting
Her feet on another bench would establish her domain.
She sang because she was happy, and Ghana told
Me it made her feel liberated somehow–that hearing
The bird’s song cutting through the cold
Cacophony hugged her with God’s ceaseless nearing.
I heard a bird in Greensboro today and recalled
My friend’s story of this winged singer unwalled. 

Low Hanging Fruit

When I watched A Star is Born with Lady
Gaga and Bradley Cooper, I thought that “Shallow”
Song was really good. During a shady
Walk pushing the stroller watching marshmallow
Clouds in the May sky, I texted an old
Student of mine: “Hey There! Do you know
That “Shallow” song from A Star is Born?” Bold
Choice, I thought, for a pop song in her book to show
Off that top belt range. She politely replied
That she knew it and would check it out. It was kind
Of like when I heard “Someone Like You” and tried
To add it to my rep–what a find!
It worked for comedy once, though–came in handy–
Overdone songs: more than just ear candy. 🙂


Today is Refrain from Terrorizing Yourself Day

Today is Refrain from Terrorizing Yourself Day. 
You get to walk the unfamiliar road 
Of kindness and gentleness toward your soul by way
Of fierce protective honor of the load
You’ve chosen to carry thus far. You 
Can put the pack down now. All that weight
Was not your burden to haul. Walk through
This next stretch barefooted, and meditate
Into the sound of your voice singing a tune
With happy intervals. You believed that sack
You left behind contained supplies you’d soon
Need, not joyless stuff now behind your back.  
Leave it there, and try a skip or leap.
Cartwheels’ll come soon, though not cheap. 

That’s all for today, my fellow sharing what’s inside traveler.

I’ll abstain from secrecy-requiring crimes today if you will.

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

ps if you just. need. more. poetry. in your life, today’s your lucky day. Can you say bonus sonnet???

Holy Paw Patrol Dance Moment

I park the boys in front of “Paw Patrol” 
When I make their lunch. By the time the shells
Are al dente or the PB and J’s read’ to roll,
Jude runs into the kitchen, his toddler cells
Ready for action. His wide eyes telegraph 
That it’s that time. “Dance please!” he calls and lifts
His sweet sausage-y arms. I have to laugh
And pick him up. This is one of life’s gifts.
When we enter the living room, Noah’s ready
To join the choreo, so I hoist each nugget on a hip
And wait for the pup dispatch jingle.  Steady 
We go, I step-touch and try to keep my grip.  
These boys are always interrupting chores,
Injecting joy, and opening fantastical doors.