There was a beautiful and very humbling moment for me at our most recent Fado Novato rehearsal when we each spontaneously confessed to each other
that we are out of our comfort zones on this project. Jordan, who has
played mostly pop and jazz music in his career, is delving into the
patient art of the
fado accompanist. He must now hold the ensemble
together like an anchor. This
requires perfect time,
consistency, sensitivity, and subtlety. He must be always aware of the
soloists' needs for consistency in one moment and then tension or fluidity in the next. He
must add color and texture to the
music without distracting from the soloist. This role is not always
the most exciting to play in an ensemble but it is the foundation on
which everything else is laid. In
fado, this anchor is the 6-string
guitar or
viola, and it is the beating heart of the
music. Having long enjoyed the freedom of jazz improvisation and the
carefree nature of various kinds of pop music, Jordan is now diligently attending this new,
unfamiliar role.
Beau, while no stranger to
soloing on many instruments, finds himself usually more comfortable in Jordan's present role with his present instrument
.
He is a classical guitarist first and foremost. Sure, he is proficient
in a multitude of stringed instruments, but he has only been
working with his new
guitarra for a few weeks. It is strung and tuned very differently from the 6-string guitar. It takes him
one day for every new tune he must transcribe and work into his
fingers. He confessed that he has cleared much of his schedule and is
working on little else leading up to our debut. While
fado is so
similar in
certain respects to many other styles he plays, the music and the
instrument are still quite foreign.
For my own part,
the differences between what I have done as a vocalist up to this point
and what I am learning now are not just altering the way I use my
instrument: they are physically altering my voice. The Portuguese language is very nasal,* which places a lot of the
resonance in the mask of the face.
Fadistas rarely allow their
voices to move into the falsetto register, which keeps the bulk of their
vocalization in the modal range and resonates heavily and fully in the
vocal chords. An additionally challenging
factor is that the key of any given composition is occasionally limited
by the respective musical ranges of the
guitarra and the
viola.
Finally,
fado lends itself well to natural
vibrato. I have spent most of my life as a vocalist - particularly the
last eight years singing jazz - doing exactly the opposite of everything I
just mentioned. I have sung mostly in English, which as a
result of the phonetics of the language causes resonance in very
different places at very different times than Portuguese, which puts resonance in the nose, the sinuses, the front of the mouth and
the forehead. Through my training in jazz and previously in classical
voice, I was taught to develop my falsetto and to suppress and control
my vibrato to create bright, clear tones. It was particularly a big
"no-no" to push one's voice too high in the modal range; repeated
violent resonance in the vocal chords can cause nodules, a career-ender
for many a singer. A great way to avoid those pesky range problems is
always to change the key into something more suitable for one's vocal
register. After all, the piano player has eight octaves to work with!
What does he care?
The effects of these efforts have been interesting. As rehearsals commenced and I really dug deeply into our
chosen tunes, I began to use my voice much of the time in a way
to which I was unaccustomed and untrained, in a language I barely knew,
on melodies I was very unsure of, in a part of my range that was weak,
with a vibrato I had been holding back for years. Sound began
resonating heavily in my nose, forehead, and throat, with my voice pushing at
questionable pitches in the top of my modal range and vibrating them
like mad. As I found out, this will give you headache. A big headache. A
lot of big headaches. It will also make your throat sore and horse. I
started to feel guilty about what I was doing to my instrument. I
needed to back off.
I am not used to learning things
slowly, especially not music. Conquering a lot of Brazilian music took
time initially because of the language, but much of it is very musically
adaptable. Within two months of diving deeply in I was digesting it at
my usual pace. To date, nothing has ever gotten me stuck as much as
fado, not for the musical difficulty of it but for the sheer physical
challenge. I listen to these
fadistas belt out their souls, and I marvel
at their strength and endurance like a couch potato watching Michael
Phelps win his umpteenth gold medal. My feelings of doubt and
insecurity (and a heaping workload from a few other projects I
gleefully
prioritized over my
fado homework) lead me into Wednesday's rehearsal
feeling sheepish and uncharacteristically unprepared.
Then,
a very funny thing happened. At rehearsal, I listened as two musicians I
know
to be some of the most talented and hard-working guys in town told me
how challenging this has been for them. I perceive that music comes to
these men as easily as breathing, and they confessed their
similar frustrations and insecurities. I
realized that I allowed myself to miss the point: The
process
is the point. I am
supposed to fail before I can
succeed. I am
not going to be Ana Moura overnight. If I am going to train my voice
to do this correctly I must start slowly, just as Mr. Couch Potato
probably needs to start with just a few laps a day at the community
center before he tries to qualify for Rio in 2016. I will sound a
little awkward
at first, but if I keep working at it a little every day I will get
better. No more
headaches, no more sore throats. Baby steps to Lisbon. I confessed my
lack of preparation to the guys, and they were kind to me.
The good news is that after
some rest, I can feel my voice has changed. My range is broadening and
my lower tones are richer and fuller with better pitch and more
strength.
I am straining less at the top of my modal range, and the overlap
between my modal and falsetto is slowly increasing. I was worried that
too
much focused time spent on belting would weaken my falsetto as well, but
as it turns out (and some research supports this as happening fairly
often) it may
actually be strengthening it. Like any other muscle, I cannot max it
out every day like I had been, but the heavy lifting is making it
stronger. Now, to get myself a good trainer. I wonder if Carminho is
taking students...
--Shay
*
By "nasal" I mean that that the
Portuguese language contains a greater number of nasal vowels and
consonants than English or many other languages. Nasalization in
phonetics refers to the specific and correct
pronunciation of a vowel or consonant in which some air escapes through
the nose during the production of the sound, causing nasal resonance.
In English, this includes sounds like "n" or "m." This is not to be confused with hypernasal speech, which is increased
airflow through the nose during speech causing abnormal resonance in the
nasal cavity (to oversimplify, everything a person says sounds tinged with the "n" sound.) It should
also not be confused with hyponasal or denasal speech, in which no air
flows on nasal sounds (aka, "mom" sounds like "bob," or stuffy-nose
speech.) These are linguistic terms indicating speech disorders. I am
by no means an authority on either subject, but they are important to
distinguish, lest I be accused of insulting the beauty of the Portuguese
language.
