Yesterday was the spring meeting for the Wisconsin chapter of NATS (the National Association of Teachers of Singing) and (in a clear sign of the times) the focus of the day’s presentations was on musical theater. The morning session featured a staff member from Milwaukee’s Skylight Opera, which was pretty exciting, but in my book the day’s superstar was my faculty colleague Corinne Ness, the leader of the afternoon session. The flyer for the event billed her as “a renowned pedagogue,” which amused her to no end. . . but in fact she more than lived up to her billing.
The topic at hand was something that a lot of voice teachers- including yours truly- tend to know very little about . . . Belting. Once upon a time, this was a style of singing that was pretty much frowned upon by voice teachers- strictly forbidden in “proper” singing- grudgingly allowed in pop and musical theater- and pretty much misunderstood across the board by most classically-oriented voice teachers. But now, voice teachers are coming to understand and appreciate Belting as a perfectly legitimate type of vocalism . . . that is, when it’s done correctly. And it’s also a type of singing involving far more subtle variations than most people would ever dream. Corinne demonstrated that beautifully at the start of her presentation when she played four different examples of Belting – ranging from full-bore brassiness to softer-hued mixture. If anyone walked into that room thinking that all Belting sounds the same, that little listening exercise blew that myth right out of the water. An apt metaphor might be that too many voice teachers (and I’ve been one of them) would be like an aspring chef who erroneously believes that there’s one way to cook zucchini. . . by breading it and throwing it into a deep-fat fryer. (That would be the classic, full-bore, Ethel Merman kind of belting.) But in fact you can cook zucchini in a plethora of ways, from steaming to sauteing to I don’t know what- and that would correspond to some of the other ways in which Belting can be employed by a singer. And whatever specific sort of Belting you want, it’s essential – just as it is in preparing that zucchini – that it be done well. And if it’s done well, a singer can Belt for years and years and years without any problem whatsoever.
And by the end of Corinne’s presentation, two things had to be crystal clear to everyone present: first, that Belting is a complex vocal technique and one which really needs to be understood by voice teachers with some level of sophistication. And second, no one on the planet probably understands Belting better than Corinne does. Whether it’s rattling off the various elements of anatomy involved or the names of various experts in the field or the various genres within musical theater or the career highlights of famous “belters,” Corinne is amazing. And wed to her astonishing know-how and facility with all this data (she makes Mr. Spock look like a middle schooler with a B average) is the intensity and sincerity with which she works with singers. I played piano for both master classes on Saturday, and it was really interesting to watch Corinne up close as she worked with a series of young singers who wanted to improve their “Belt.” In each case, she zeroed in very quickly on a particular thing to work on, but in this way that didn’t seem to overwhelm or intimidate any of them – and which in every case helped them. And of course closer to home, she has forged powerful and tremendously beneficial relationships with all of her private students, who would walk on hot coals or eat bugs for her if she were inclined to ask it of them. Such is the trust which she inspires.
It was quite an afternoon, and if I walked out of there with my head spinning (my 50-year-old noggin doesn’t take in data as easily as it once did) and feeling a bit bewildered by it all (I don’t teach any women at Carthage anymore, and almost no female singers privately, so this is something that I haven’t really had to explore too much, professionally) I also felt that invigorating sort of intellectual fresh breeze that comes when you realize anew that there is more – much more – to learn about something. And as I enter my second century on this earth, that’s one of the things that makes me feel alive and well and eager.
pictured above: Corinne Ness in the midst of her afternoon master class. I didn’t even realize when I took the photo that I was capturing some of the audience (made up of both teachers and young singers) doing what Corinne was asking one of the master class performers to do. This is an exercise, by the way, in which one holds your jaw in place while counting from one to ten quickly, essentially using only your tongue. It helps a singer realize that their jaw and tongue can operate very independently of each other.
By the way, this particular performer (not pictured) with whom Corinne was working at the moment was a former voice student of mine, Megan Wilson – also a former student of Polly’s at Tremper. She knocked ‘em dead with “Suppertime” and Corinne rightfully remarked that she very likely has exciting things ahead of her.