On coloratura and hand saws

On the weekend. I was fortunate to be able to attend a workshop given by Andrea Hill who is in Calgary to sing Rosina in Rossini's The Barber of Seville. The time flew by as Andrea talked about her experience as a singer and what she has learned.

The gathering was informal and Andrea was down-to-earth. She often prefaced a remark with a phrase like, “This is what I've found works for me,” or “What I've learned so far is.” She noted that two teachers might say completely opposite things and both be right depending on the student's experience and physical make-up. Andrea told the story of a teacher who helped her move her singing forward in significant ways. Then the progress stopped and it was time to move on. She spoke of how colleagues had helped her with different aspects of her singing and she stressed the importance of finding out what your voice can do and developing that to the best of your ability. Andrea told of a colleague whose voice enables her to sing one type of role brilliantly; however, she hates that kind of role and wants to do other roles not suited to her voice. Andrea said, “You have the voice you have and you can't exactly return to the store and get a new one.” She talked about putting in the hours of practice, finding the people who can best teach you what you need to learn and then giving up control and trusting that your body and voice know how to do what they need to do.

As I listened I found myself thinking about my work with hand tools and wood. I am beginning to understand how to let go and not overpower the saw when making a cut. The turning point for me was a phrase Paul Sellers used in one of his videos: he said to start a cut you stroke the wood with the teeth of the saw. Because of the hours upon hours of practice and frustration I have put in, that phrase at that time allowed me to let go and let the saw do the work.

That's cause for a huge celebration but I know I haven't got it made. Things can go sideways at any moment. David Pye, who was a professor of furniture design at the Royal College of Art, said when working with hand tools a person engages in 'the workmanship of risk.' One cut may be perfectly perpendicular and the next one may stray at a slight angle. One note may be sung accurately and beautifully and the next one may be slightly off. A piece of writing may flow smoothly and the next one is a total slog. On some ordinary days life seems to sail along while other ordinary days are grey and crush the slightest attempt to move forward.

Andrea said for years she avoided singing coloratura, those passages in opera which seem to have millions of notes that go blindingly fast and either lie high or ridiculously high in pitch. It was difficult to learn and to do it she needed to stop thinking about every note and instead think of anchor notes and broad gestures in the music. She had to sing legato in order to sing the rapid passages. She spoke often of learning to 'ride the breath.' She advised us to learn to sing coloratura if we really wanted to sing well. That stopped me. I've always assumed that it was too hard and I wouldn't be any good at it anyway. I gave myself a mental slap upside the head. How many times have I said to students that purpose of doing something is to learn from the experience? Andrea stressed that lessons we need to learn in singing are lessons we need to learn in life and visa versa. In life, as in singing, there comes a point where a we must let go of control and trust. Andrea characterized moving through her life and her career as constantly seeking a balance between control and grace and, she observed, “Control never wins.”

To do something with grace, to me, is to step off a precipice into an abyss knowing I will either fall or soar and that, either way, stepping off is what I must do. I want to be able to work wood with grace. I want to be able to sing with grace and, most of all, I want to live my life with grace. I have so much to learn and I am grateful for Andrea Hill who has taken the time to hone her craft, to reflect on what that means and to share both craft and meaning with others.