Seminar in Vocal Pedagogy

Articulation

If it is the vowel that gives the sung tone humanity and intelligence, it is the consonant that provides meaning to that vowel. This is not to say that articulation is related to the consonant alone, but that in the effort to communicate it is paramount that both be uttered clearly and with certainty, or else the process of communication is pointless. Both Vennard and (to a lesser, or at least briefer, extent) Miller discuss the distinctiveness to vocal articulation from all other animals.

After several paragraphs of the racial and individual origins of speech, the balance of noise (consonants) versus tone (vowels), a somewhat out-of-place discussion on the artistic "dilemma of the singer," and a very brief survey of the use of the voice and instruments throughout music history up to what for him was the present day, Vennard begins the discussion which concerns us, namely, the issue of articulation for singing. There is a difference in how musicians handle the matter and how phoneticists do: the former proceed from the standpoint of articulation for an instrument, where the resonators are shaped to be in tune with a fundamental tone, creating harmonic vowel formants; the latter are not, and in their studies experience more partials than fundamentals, effectively negating "singer" sounds (166).

Inasmuch as poetry and music are alike, the recitation has always been the bridge to the singing tone; therefore, Vennard uses the descriptive tools of the phoneticist, but from the perspective of the singer. He therefore proceeds to describe all the articulation sounds relevant to singing, using various systems of classification: from the broadest, as vowels, diphthongs, semi-vowels, or consonants, to the acoustical issues of resonance tones, high-frequency tones, and pressure patterns.

In his discussions on the glottal aspirate, or [], Vennard holds that in several ways it performs the way a vowel would (if it does not exactly function as one). First, he maintains that due to the individuality of the larynx, any number of various frequency combinations can be employed to alter the "substance" of the sound. Second, Scripture has observed that it is actually possible to vocalize on the [], and that some languages actually use this sound. Finally, the sound is uttered after voiceless consonants, specifically [], [], and [], right before a vowel, such as "pay," "tea," and "key" ([], [], and []). This last sound also referred to as the "incidental h," which also occurs at the end of words with final vowels (168-169).

Usage of the glottal plosive ([], sometimes incorrectly called the "glottal stroke") is common in spoken English--and German and, in a few instances, even French--but this hard attack is unattractive for the singer. Instead, Vennard recommends that most of the time the "incidental h" is in order, though in instances such as words beginning with the same vowel as the preceding one, the glottal stroke is mandatory. He gives the example from Purcell's "Three Divine Hymns," where the line, "We sing to Him whose wisdom formed the ear" necessitates something to keep from sounding like "the year" (169-170).

In discussing the labials (either bilabials, which employ both lips, and labiodentals, which are made with the lower lip and upper teeth), Vennard has little pedagogically to say besides to caution against "creating" syllables after plosives like [p] or [b] at the ends of words that ought to simply end with such consonants. He allows for this with phrase-ending situations for a few consonants, but otherwise argues that the consonant can usually "speak for itself" without the assistance of a trailing sound--usually []--to distinguish it (170-171).

With respect to nasal consonants (including the labial [], the alveolar [], and possibly []), Vennard has this to say:

If one defines a vowel as a sustained glottal vibration, resonated by the cavities above the larynx, then the sounds we have been discussing certainly must be included. The nasals are all vocal; they have no voiceless analogues. The only difference is that in the case of the vowels, the mouth is open, and in the case of the nasal consonants it is not (173).

Thus Vennard's exposition of consonants begins to proceed to sounds that may function as such, but really are some kind of vowel. The semivowel (or "consovowel") [] ideally places the tip of the tongue immediately behind the teeth, rather than against the alveolar ridge, as is common in this country. The semivowel [] is a bit more involved, and there is one correct way to articulate it, two ways that are questionable value, and one wrong way. When rolled, the tongue flutters against the alveolar ridge or taps it at least once. The uvular [] is a fluttering of the velum against the back of the tongue, but the French singer Pierre Bernac said that in serious music the rolled [] is preferred, while the uvular [] is used in popular music. The letter may also not be articulated at all, but this is only acceptable at the end of words in certain Romantic languages. Finally, the American retroflex [] is to be avoided; Vennard calls it an "unpleasant sound and [it] should be avoided as much as possible." However, practically speaking the American singer will pronounce this sound under most conditions, so if he is taught to "think" it silent, it will be reduced to an acceptable level (174-175).

Next in line towards true vowels are the glides; in fact, they vary from vowels only in that they involve partial or complete closure of the mouth. The two consonants related to the letter [], [] and [] (voiced and unvoiced, respectively), which are formed solely at the lips, and those related to the letter [], [] and [], which involve "biting" the sides of the tongue with the molars. Reversing any glide plus a vowel yields the diphthong, or double vowel (176-177).

For the serious singer, any diphthong must be sung by sustaining the first vowel as long as possible, then "tacking on" the second vowel almost as if it were a stop-plosive. The inverse of this problem is the single vowel sound given negligent time to be articulated: invariably it is reduced to some kind of neutral vowel or is practically eliminated altogether. Vennard points out that pop singers have a built-in failsafe, in that his inability to articulate to sound with any real proficiency just makes him that much more accessible to the average listener. The legitimate singer must sing the legitimate vowel (180). He holds that this must be the case even with such instances as German words ending in the letter "e," which native speakers prefer pronounced as a somewhat muted []; American singers are too prone to make the [] either too bright our make of it a downright forward []. To reinforce the good habit of singing only with "singer's vowels," Vennard suggests rehearsing the lines without consonants, so as to call attention to the vowels themselves, even revealing diphthongs where there ought not be any (180-181).

Following a rather preachy (if justifiable) argument for demanding for oneself quality texts to sing, he discusses the matter of performing legato through the problem of adequate articulation: "it is difficult to have good diction and good legato." Vennard argues, however, for the illusion of perfect legato, as the real thing is unattainable as long as we concern ourselves with actual words instead of monophthong vocalises. If we do not overextend our reach, so to speak, our "legato need not be disturbed by strong diction." If we think as the French, who perceive syllables as beginning with a consonant and ending with a vowel, we will reinforce the sense of legato in our line. English and German both contain sounds that require the vocal sound to actually cease; Italian involves the use of double consonants, which merely involves a prolonging of the two (182-183).

Vennard recommends that beginning singers start with Italian, for its smaller--and simpler-- palette of vowel sounds to produce; "for Italian to be lovely requires only that it be correct." German is much like English in its profligate use of tonal interrupters, but in German literature lies the real meat for the advanced singer. French bridges the gap between the two, for its legato as well as its requirement for use of the mezza voce and development of a delicate voix mixte. English is better sung as these languages (whichever one a given word resembles most at any given time) than as it is usually spoken (183).

Miller largely affirms the importance of understanding the formation of sounds, specifically as how they affect the vocal tract, or the singer cannot expect to "find freedom in singing." Unlike Vennard, however, he does not feel that voiceless consonants necessarily "break" the line: "They can be comfortably incorporated in such a way that they do not break the flow of sound" (105-107). Nor do they destroy the "pure" vowel if kept short and placed properly (79).

One "helpful hint" Miller gives for exercising the whole range is vocalization on a nasal consonant (not [], which prevents the mouth from being open on higher pitches). He reminds us that professional singers have used that technique since at least as far back as the 19^th century (89). Additionally, the [] sound helps transfer sensation awareness into the mask area as sensation in the mouth diminished, and the [] sound has for a long time been useful for achieving "'forward resonance' associated with the singer's formant." Using [] (as in "onion") is also useful for "feeling...'resonance' squarely in the center of the mask" (84-86). As far as the bilabial consonants [b] and [p] are concerned, tone is felt as having been developed right at the lips, helping bring swallowed tone out into a more forward position.

Care must be taken in producing the [d] sound, which can introduce "many possibilities for vocal tension." The vocal folds are sounding, the port to the nasopharynx is most likely closes, and the elevation of the tongue inhibits the release of back pressure. It should be dentalized, as [] (100-101). A similar sound, the voiced [] creates a sensation of buzz in the mask area, helping the singer to become more "aware of the desirable balances among buccal, nasal, and pharyngeal resonators" (99).

Miller asserts that "the free voice has no diction problems," specifically with regard to vowel production. The resonance necessary to create a truly ringing tone is therefore a simple matter of allowing the instrument to do what it is capable of doing without extrinsic forces putting pressure on it. It must be allowed to do what is most natural, and "placement" terminology is often at fault. "Singers often attempt physical actions which they assume will produce certain desirable 'resonance' results, but which have other functional ramifications." Any "manufactured" control over the instrument inhibits the necessary flexibility of the resonator tube to properly shape sounds, and some methods actually assert that there is but one ideal resonator shape, rather than a dynamic one (88-89)!