I want to be a diva. Correction: I will be a diva. At least that's what my voice teacher, Joann, seems to think. Actually, she would argue till the final curtain call that I am a diva. As for me, I'm still dubious.
For those of you who weren't aware, I have been taking voice lessons for several months now. My friend, Cherice, and I drive 45 minutes to Jackson each Thursday afternoon to shriek like a fire engine and cast off the nice, understated church choir voice that has been trapping the inner diva for all these years. It's remarkably satisfying actually.
Joann is an amazing teacher --more like a coach. She is absolutely convinced that under her tutelage anyone can sing. And she's probably right. Her tactics are a bit unconventional, but I must say, they really work! For instance, she acts utterly unconcerned about whether or not we practice -- but if we should be so inclined, she recommends 15 minutes, twice a day. She's all about stage presence, but doesn't require students to memorize or polish pieces before they perform. (Case in point: at one lesson, I sang a little Dvorak piece for the first time. "That's wonderful!" she chirped, "I'll put you down to sing this at the recital." The recital was in two weeks! And yes, I left all self-respect at the door and shaking from head to toe, performed a most amateur rendition of the Dvorak ditty. No one else could have conned me into such a thing!) Joann steeps us in mental imagery and positive thinking. ("Getting hung up about your mistakes is like driving with your eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror!) Yet, she does not accept mediocrity.
At our lesson today, Joann gave us advice should we ever be asked to sing at a funeral. "Put your music in a black folder so you can hide a copy of the Reader's Digest. You must not talk to or look at anyone until after you sing. In the meantime, you sit quietly in the back reading the jokes in the Reader's Digest until it's time to perform. It's the only way to get through a song at a funeral without falling apart!" Not that I'm regularly asked to sing at funerals -- or anywhere for that matter -- but forewarned is forearmed, I suppose.
And then after some intense coaching involving the gag reflex, I sang a high A-flat!!
About Me
- Anny Case
- I'm a professor at Gonzaga University in the School of Education. I love talking and teaching about language, literacy, and culture. For the past two decades, I've been lucky enough to work in immigrant and refugee education.
3 comments:
You ARE a diva! Love the new template, although I miss the 7 dwarves picture.
So great that you are taking voice lessons. I bet you sing beautifully. With all of the musical talent that abounds in our family - I sometimes feel like I got jipped!
So I'm taking lessons right now too and my teacher never tells me how high I am singing (when I warm up) but I think that I sing the same high note 3-4 times in a row while she is still going up a half step. I'm pretty sure I have a max highness and personally I don't really like the sound of really high notes (or I convince myself that's why I don't need to go any higher). I remember when Kaila sang O Holy Night and hit the high B (which is crazy) my kids all plugged their ears. She almost busted up laughing.
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