Monthly Archives: March 2013

Are You Trying To Hear Your Sound By Creating Excess Tension?

The other day, as I was working with a new Alexander Technique student, I encountered (again) a fairly common habit that many musicians have that usually leads to trouble. Allow me to share.

My student is a singer who came to see me because of problems she’s been having with vocal strain and intonation. As she told me: “I seem to start out okay (actually, she sounds very good), but after about 5 to 10 minutes of singing my voice becomes strident, kind of thin, and my intonation gets difficult to control.” She sang for me for a few minutes and confirmed her own assessment.

It wasn’t hard for me to see how she was creating these problems for herself. As she’d start singing I’d see her stiffening her neck as she thrusted her face upward and forward. This pattern of tension manifested itself through her entire body: shoulders pulled back, lower back arched, knees locked, unyielding ankles and feet.

So I began to work with her with my hands to help her find an easier state of balance as she was standing (without singing).  She was very responsive to the directions I was giving, and was really beginning to release much of her habitual tension: freer neck, widening shoulders and back, neutral pelvis,  softening knees, flexible ankles. She said she felt like “a whole new person”. All good stuff.

In Alexander slang, I’d say she went from doing too much, to a nice state of non-doing (leaving herself alone, to allow for a natural, virtually effortless balance).

I explained to her that this  state of non-doing was a very good place from which to start singing. It was like starting with a blank canvas, and could help her see how much tension she was creating when she sang. So I asked her to sing.

She went immediately from a calm, pliable, free state, to one of immense tension (same pattern as before: head thrusted forward, narrow shoulders, etc.) I asked her if she could sense all that tension she created as she began to sing, and she replied (with a certain amount amazement) that she could:

“Wow! I had no idea I was doing so much in my entire body to try to sing. Working way too hard…”

So I asked her to sing again, but with the thought of not going into that tense pattern, of leaving herself alone. But as she sang again, there was little, if any difference. She’d go right into that tense pattern again.

(This isn’t uncommon when encountering performance habits. They can be quite stubborn. Yet if addressed effectively and consistently, they can be changed. That’s what the Alexander Technique is all about.)

As we proceeded to work more with her singing, my student suddenly came to a great realization: “You know, I think I’m making all this tension in myself as an attempt to hear my voice.”

And she is absolutely right.

You see, to her (and to so many musicians) the sound  is more than what the ear takes in. It can involve other senses (feeling resonance, for example), beliefs (often also about what should be felt), and other expectations.

In the case of my student, she was trying to feel the sound a specific way. She said that’s how she was gauging her intonation. Yet by her own admission, her intonation was dubious as she created this tension.

So we worked on getting her to change her thinking. We shifted the goal from trying to sing well, to leaving herself alone as she sang: no face thrusting, no shoulder raising, no back arching, no knee locking. The aim was not to sing in tune, or even with a good sound. Rather, it was to begin to sing without going into her habitual tension. It would be a bit of an experiment.

In fact, I told her that if she sounded bad, even worse than she’d ever sounded, that she could consider herself successful in this experiment, because it shows she did something differently. She liked that idea.

Well, after a few takes, she finally had a moment when she started to sing without her habits. I had my hands on her, and could tell that she was leaving herself alone very nicely. She continued to sing for about 5 minutes. Her voice was clear, beautiful, consistent…and her intonation was spot on.

She was thrilled, to say the least. “That was hard. I don’t know if I could do that again”, she said. I assured her she could, perhaps not consistently at first, but eventually she’d be able to with considerable consistency.

I asked her, “How was your intonation? Did you notice it?” She replied, ” Oh yes, I could her my pitch so clearly and easily. But the strange thing was, I wasn’t trying to hear my pitch. I could just hear it, and knew it was fine.”

I explained to her that it was this “trying” to hear her pitch that was tempting her to create so much bodily tension, and that this excess tension was interfering with her ability to truly hear herself. That seemed to make sense to her. I’m excited to meet with her for her next lesson to see what else she’ll discover.

As I stated above, so many musicians I teach are struggling with the same habit: trying to feel their sound, both color and pitch, through excess bodily tension. Besides being counterproductive to the goal of a good sound and good intonation, it also carries with it the risk of strain, injury, poor technique and fatigue.

But there’s also something that comes with it that is equally negative. All that tension leads to a kind of physical and artistic prison when making music. You can become so dependent upon feeling your tension that you’re not free to experience the possibility of the unknown, the possibility of discovering something new in yourself as you make music.

So how are you when you play? How much tension do you create as you get ready to play your first note? Remember to allow your neck to stay free so that your head can balance easily on top of your spine. Let your shoulders widen. Don’t lift your chest and arch your back. Don’t lock your knees. Let the weight of your body travel easily into your feet as you let your ankles remain free and mobile.

Leave yourself alone as you play, and you’ll hear yourself so much better. To paraphrase F.M. Alexander, “If you stop doing the wrong thing, the right thing will do itself.” My experience as a musician and as a teacher (and student!) of the Alexander Technique affirms this every day.

Practicing Improvisation: Two Essential Components To Develop For You To Improve

To improvise fluently, expressively and authentically, you need to develop good ears. You must be able to find the notes  on your instrument that you’re hearing in your head (immediately!) as you play from moment to moment.

So it’s no wonder that ear training is a significantly large component in the study of jazz. Learning to recognize (and sing) intervals, chords, scales, rhythms, melodic patterns, etc. (not to mention transcribing solos.), is essential jazz pedagogy. If you’re a dedicated student of jazz  (or virtually any other form of improvisation) chances are you’ll spend the rest of your life refining your aural abilities. And that will pay off in a big way.

But as important as it is,  a good ear alone will not insure your growth and improvement as an improvising artist. For that to happen, you have to also develop another very important component: imagination. All the ear training in the world won’t do you much good if you can’t imagine (hear) anything to play.

The great tenor saxophonist, Joe Henderson, was known to have exceptional ears. He could effortlessly and immediately play back anything he could hear or imagine (or anything any musician could play). Yet he also spent his entire life continuing to practice the materials of music: scale patterns, inversions of arpeggios, melodic sequences, interval patterns, rhythmic patterns and more.

Why would he find the need do this if he had such splendid ears? So that he could continue to expand his musical imagination.

Ears and imagination. These two components go hand in hand, of course, and one really helps the other.

Take solo transcription, for example. If you transcribe a solo from a recording, you challenge your ears. The more you practice transcription, the easier it becomes. You go from struggling to hear things note by note, to recognizing patterns, melodic cliches (“licks”), chord and scale inversions, harmonic substitutions…entire chunks of music at a time.

But you also get more from the transcribing process. By listening to and analyzing a beautifully improvised solo, you also get a chance to look inside the mind of a great improviser. You get to see how this artist thinks about using the materials of music.

Let’s say you find a line in the improvised solo that you especially love. As you sit down to analyze it, you might find that it’s nothing more than a way of organizing the notes from a particular scale (that you already know very well) in a way that you’ve never considered.

From there, you would perhaps make a little exercise out of this pattern you’ve discovered, putting it in all 12 keys. Nicely done. Not only have you improved your ability to find pitches on your instrument (your ears), but also, you’ve expanded your conception of what is possible for you to imagine.

This is a matter of coupling your aural skills with your intellect, and is essential for you to continue to grow as an improvising musician.

When teaching improvisation, I want to hear two things in the first lesson: how you improvise as you play your instrument; how you improvise as you sing. This always gives me a good starting point.

Do you sing a beautifully clear, harmonically sophisticated, melodic and expressive solo, but have a hard time finding those same pitches and rhythms on your instrument? If so, your ears need to catch up with your imagination. (You might also need to address your instrumental technique.)

Do you improvise with reasonable fluency on your instrument, but sound like you’re thinking, instead of feeling, what you’re playing? If this is the case, your singing will most likely be far less sophisticated harmonically than  what you express on your instrument, showing a definite lack of aural imagination.

Does your time feel and rhythmic conception on your instrument match up to what you sing as you improvise? How is your phrasing different from voice to instrument?

Even after you’ve effectively addressed any imbalance here, you must ultimately continue to develop both your ear and your imagination if you want to grow.

Some things you can do to improve your ear:

  • Learn to identify all the intervals, scales, and chords by ear (nowadays there are great smartphone apps that help you do this at a really low cost)
  • Practice sight singing, solfege, etc. (in other words, be able to sing what you’ve learned to aurally identify)
  • Transcribe other people’s music (solos, melodies)
  • Transcribe yourself (both singing and playing)
  • Play along with recordings where you have no idea of key center, harmonic progression, etc. (try to simplify what you do to find notes that seem consonant with the recording)
  • Play something by ear everyday, even if it’s just simple, familiar melodies (folk songs, children’s songs, etc.)
  • Compose melodies by ear (no help from your instrument)

Some things you can do to expand your imagination:

  • Always be thinking about new ways to organize scales, arpeggios, intervals, etc. Use your intellect. Think in numbers if you like. Ask yourself, what would it sound like if…?
  • Listen to lots and lots of music, especially music that’s outside of your improvisational genre. Examine different disciplines, cultures, time periods, etc.
  • Transcribe other people’s music (yes, I’ve already mentioned this above!) It’s important to remember that when you transcribe, you’re improving your ear as you develop your musical intellect.
  • Find some good etude books for improvisation. Nowadays there is a wealth of excellent material to get you to think of tonal organization, harmony, thematic development and rhythm in increasingly sophisticated ways.
  • Study rhythm. Find books to work out of. Explore odd metered music. Figure out ways to turn your “4/4” ideas into odd numbered groupings. A great rhythmic imagination is the ultimate improvisational tool.
  • Practice etudes written for instruments other than the one you play. John Coltrane used to practice harp etudes.
  • Take a lesson from a great teacher. You’ll probably go home with month’s (if not year’s) worth of valuable homework.
  • Write your own etudes. Try composing solos over standard chord progressions, for example. This is a great chance to use your intellect and imagination to fatten your ears and clarify what you feel musically.

Above all remember that you can only play what you can imagine, and that you’ll play at your greatest potential when your imagination grows as your ear improves.