Spending Father's Day Casting Nasturtiums On His Good Name

I can’t resist re-posting this. Today would have been my father’s 84th birthday. I’m spending the day writing, Dad, and tonight we’ll drink a glass of red wine in your honour.

My father loved words, sounds, and language. I guess I’ll always feel that he played a role in setting me on my voice training path.

I remember back when I was working as a text coach for a production of ‘Medea’ at UBC, I’d discuss Greek pronunciations with him - did he think ‘Glauce’ should be pronounced ‘Glau - say’ or ‘Glau - kay’’, and so on. Dad was emphatic about the muscular sounds of the Greek language, insisting that “the vowels are long, the consonants are hard! It’s always ‘KUH, not ‘SUH’!” I’m not sure he was right about that, but it wasn’t about scholarly precision. He loved the vigour and vitality of those sounds. 

He felt the connection between characters and their utterances.  He once gleefully told me about a woman waiting in the line at the bank who, needing to sign a paper, had turned to him and asked, “can I borrow your paaaaaan?” From this articulation, Dad created an entire character.

He kept note of what he called “howlers” – warped expressions and malapropisms - whenever he heard them. Like the sailor “changing his tact”, or someone “casting nasturtiums on his good name”. Or typos - he took the time to clip an article out of the newspaper and mail it to me just so I could see that the headline read, “Detainee Welcomes a Pubic Inquiry”. Scrawled on the side of the paper was Dad’s voice: “Look at his big smile! And the wife’s expression!”

 At a launch party for ‘Piccolo Mondo’ he said, “Writing began for me in Grade Eleven…It continued at UBC where I sat in the basement of the student newspaper office every Thursday slowly clicking my loves and hates into a Remington typewriter and onto a column of arts criticism…What I loved most dearly, though, was reading poems to audiences, showing off...I’ve always loved having an audience. Lend me your ears.”

What I remember about him, and what guides me, is the way he spanned a continuum of physical, vocal, verbal, and written expression. He embodied words - reaching across, darting through, dancing along breath, muscle, sound, typeset, and ink. For him, sounds, speech, words and text merged in a way that is rare – a way that I will likely spend my whole life trying to understand.

To me, his sound and fury signified everything. 

Fall, Theatre? A Call To Action

I got the email from The Arts Club Theatre Company. They are trying to get the word out about their Fall Theatre Trio Package: bargain prices, extensive safety protocols, and two convenient “watch online” viewing options…just please, please, buy a ticket. Any kind of ticket. Please let us entertain you.

It’s a cliché and an understatement to say that there’s a lot of heart in the theatre, and I’ve been witnessing such courage in my theatre community since March of this year. There are days when I think my heart might break from it.

Back in the spring, there was the award-winning actor-director offering free math tutoring for his colleagues’ kids, because he understood the strain on theatre families suddenly home-schooling while trying to find work. “I was pretty good at math when I was in school. Let me help.”

And the fight director-lighting designer who wrote a beautiful online post about how he realized that he would have to find a different way to earn a living for a while, until we get through the pandemic. He described his good fortune and relief at being hired at a small boat-building company. There was poetry in his description of the work there, comparing boats with backstages, complete with achingly beautiful photographs.

All through the summer, the actors and singers and dancers posting reminders on social media “hey folx, please wear a mask!” even as all their work contracts were melted into air, into thin air. Actually, no: nothing so gentle as melting. More like massive stone dominos, crashing down, one onto the next. Inevitable.

But the creativity. So many people trying so hard to make theatre in whatever way we safely can until major medical intervention arrives. Yet how can that happen, with anti-maskers stamping their feet and whining about their “freedom”? Refusing to behave with basic, common decency or respect for their own communities.

In England, the government recommends that the same artists who have moved and delighted audiences for decades should now re-train for work in a different sector. Recycle yourselves into something useful, please. Meanwhile, on BC Ferries, the rabid anti-maskers on their way to a large rally of their lunatic fringe, assault fellow passengers who are wearing masks.   

The Canadian performer’s union informs us that, regretfully, they can no longer defer basic dues – the organization is struggling, it has only been receiving 15% of regular revenue, no other funding sources. They acknowledge that dues payment ($90) will create hardship for some members, and they offer options for temporary withdrawal.

I’m a Gemini - the Janus face, the sign of duality, so I usually enjoy contrasts. But right now I feel something different. I would call it rage, but at my age that would be unseemly.

I hear the weariness in my friends’ voices, I see it on their faces, as they shoulder the weight of these heavy times. I’m angry when I hear about the selfish behaviour of people who should know better. As you are old and reverend, should be wise.

“So, what specifically do you want the audience to do?” That’s what I say all the time as a public speaking coach. Well, I’ll put this call-to-action out to my friends, family, and colleagues who do NOT work in the arts: the theatre needs your help. Performers in Canada are hustling, and pivoting, and learning, and striving, and creating, and in these rare, rare instances now when they get to perform, they will leave it all out on the well-sanitized stage for you. Don’t turn away. Lend them your ears: The Arts Club Fall Theatre Trio.

Spending Father's Day Casting Nasturtiums On His Good Name

My father loved words, sounds, and language. I guess I’ll always feel that he played a role in setting me on my voice training path.

I remember back when I was working as a text coach for a production of ‘Medea’ at UBC, I’d discuss Greek pronunciations with him - did he think ‘Glauce’ should be pronounced ‘Glau - say’ or ‘Glau - kay’’, and so on. Dad was emphatic about the muscular sounds of the Greek language, insisting that “the vowels are long, the consonants are hard! It’s always ‘KUH, not ‘SUH’!” I’m not sure he was right about that, but it wasn’t about scholarly precision. He loved the vigour and vitality of those sounds. 

He felt the connection between characters and their utterances.  He once gleefully told me about a woman waiting in the line at the bank who, needing to sign a paper, had turned to him and asked, “can I borrow your paaaaaan?” From this articulation, Dad created an entire character.

He kept note of what he called “howlers” – warped expressions and malapropisms - whenever he heard them. Like the sailor “changing his tact”, or someone “casting nasturtiums on his good name”. Or typos - he took the time to clip an article out of the newspaper and mail it to me just so I could see that the headline read, “Detainee Welcomes a Pubic Inquiry”. Scrawled on the side of the paper was Dad’s voice: “Look at his big smile! And the wife’s expression!”

 At a launch party for ‘Piccolo Mondo’ he said, “Writing began for me in Grade Eleven…It continued at UBC where I sat in the basement of the student newspaper office every Thursday slowly clicking my loves and hates into a Remington typewriter and onto a column of arts criticism…What I loved most dearly, though, was reading poems to audiences, showing off...I’ve always loved having an audience. Lend me your ears.”

What I remember about him, and what guides me, is the way he spanned a continuum of physical, vocal, verbal, and written expression. He embodied words - reaching across, darting through, dancing along breath, muscle, sound, typeset, and ink. For him, sounds, speech, words and text merged in a way that is rare – a way that I will likely spend my whole life trying to understand.

To me, his sound and fury signified everything. 

Speak With Authority

You’ve tackled the tech pivot. Now is the time to find your VOICE.

These weeks have been about juggling which Zoom link, what Teams feature, which Meet video setting, or what Hangout audio settings you needed. Now is the time to dial in your messaging and speak with authority.

The confidence you're seeking is not about self-worth - you've already got that. You just need a system.

A system to structure any presentation that comes your way.

A system to tap into your powerful, authentic, confident voice.

A system to ground you in the moments before you step on the stage.

Join me for my 4-week program and claim your power as a confident leader. Here’s how it works:

We meet once a week on Mondays. During the week, I support you via Marco Polo and a private Facebook group. The 4 week course starts on 06/08/2020 at 11:00am PST.

Tuition is $300.

Questions? Leave a comment to start the conversation. I’ll ask you a few questions to ensure we’re a fit and discuss the details.

Spring Training

Happy Spring Break!

I'm offering individual coaching sessions via Zoom from Monday March 16th to Friday April 3rd.

As well, I have a small number of in-person session times available in Vancouver, B.C. (with heightened hygiene practices, no handshake greetings, etc, for public health reasons).

Audition coaching, voice training, text analysis...your time, your choice. We have the technology - let's keep working!

Just reply here to let me know you're interested, and I'll send you details about rates and scheduling.

See you in the virtual studio!
Alison

Remote Possibilities

The other day I was talking with an NGO executive who was concerned about the environmental impact of all her air travel for speaking engagements in different cities. This reminded me of an excellent article by UBC Math Professor, Malabika Pramanik, whom I had the pleasure of working with at the Peter Wall Institute for Advanced Studies.

Environmentalists, academics, executives, artists…people in many sectors are turning to alternatives like video conferencing. Yes, there are constraints (Professor Pramanik describes some of them), and no, the technology is not perfect. But, as my wonderful colleague Matt Smith of Adrenaline Studios points out, “it’s just a bandwidth issue right now.” And “right now” moves pretty fast in the tech world. As the picture gets clearer and the glitches are fewer and farther between, I believe this way of working will become a more regular part of our lives. And this is actually a good thing.

I won’t get too heavy about the environmental impacts of air travel. I won’t go on about how many younger people already use these options to connect across distances, and I don’t hear them grumbling about it. And I’ll only briefly mention the people who feel strongly enough about the issue to make some serious professional changes. If a choreographer can work via remote technology, who can’t?

As Billy Bragg said, “here comes the future and you can’t run from it.” Instead, why not take a little time to practice enhancing your video conferencing image? Be sure you bring an audience-centred approach to your remote talks, just as you would with an in-person presentation, demonstration, or panel. Here are a few ideas to help:

1: Find a good location. Check what’s in the frame. Are there distractions in the background? Take a moment to clear clutter, and to ensure that you’re angled away from windows. You want light shining directly onto your face, not into the camera - make it easy for your audience to see you.

2: Find good placement. Before your talk, raise your computer or camera up so it sits at eye level (when you’re looking straight ahead, chin parallel to the ground). This is a much better angle for your audience to read your expressions and perceive gesture and body language. (Bonus: it’s also more flattering)

3: Find your focus. Remember that you’re speaking through a screen to actual people. While you’re presenting, be conscious of looking down or dropping your eyes to your notes too often. Lift your gaze into the camera so that viewers feel more connected to you and can take in what you’re saying. Give them a chance to benefit from your expertise.

Some people say that remote presentations can never be as good as live ones, that “in-person” is always better than “virtual”. I might question that premise. Maybe it depends on how we define “better”, and what we want it to be “good” for.

But that’s a longer conversation…which, fortunately, we can have on any number of channels.

The Words We Use Still Matter

I’m still pondering this question, and thought I’d re-post this piece:

Recently I listened to an interview with a woman who is a researcher at a respected Canadian university.  The topic was the reporting of terrorist attacks.  Her assertion was that words matter – that the words chosen by reporters can define as well as describe the event, and therefore affect public reaction and political response.

She was an intelligent woman and she made strong points.  But it was her own use of words that struck me.  She frequently used “fillers” -- the umms and uhhhs, those little habitual placeholders we throw in while organizing our thoughts. And by the way, Emma Taylor offers great insights on controlling verbal fillers . You’ll want to read her take on it.

In this particular interview, “y’know” was a biggie, but the one that really got me was “sort of”.  It got me partly because she used it a lot, but more in her particular placement of it.  

Each time she made a strong assertion, she preceded the strongest or most definitive word with “sort of”:

“…an act is terrorism if it, sort of, clearly provokes terror and fear…”

“The, sort of, actual risks…we’ve all seen those charts that show the, sort of, actual statistical probability of dying in a terrorist attack…”

“…in the, sort of, immediate coverage…”

 “The recent shooting was…a typical example of the, sort of, folly of, y’know, hasty and careless reporting…”

How is something done “sort of” clearly?  Can statistics be “sort of” actual ?

I want to be clear: I do not mean to ridicule her or diminish her arguments in any way.  They were rigorous, observant, well constructed and backed up with good evidence.  She was articulate and well educated, clearly an expert in her field.  Yet when she spoke, she undermined her status.  Her “sort of”s served as apologies for her statements.  Ever so subtly – maybe subconsciously – she was ensuring that what she said wouldn’t make her appear too strong, too assertive.
 
Of course men use fillers when they speak as well, but in my experience they generally place them in between thoughts: “So, y’know, the point I’m making is…” and so on.  Once the thought has been formulated in the brain, it’s spoken without being subverted or undermined along the way.

So is this another form of “don’t speak up too much or too often”?  “You don’t want to come across as a strident, opinionated harpy”?  Do we need another hashtag, #TalkLikeAWoman, to go with #DressLikeAWoman?  Because I’m not crazy about #IAmSortOfAStrongConfidentWoman, or #IAmSortOfAnExpertInMyField.  When women own it, as they very much and very often do, I want to hear them own it.  Full stop.

The famous voice teacher Patsy Rodenburg says, “we have to stand by what we say”.  It’s a big thing to do, to commit fully to the words we utter and the ideas carried through them.  It’s not always easy.  But we are living in adventurous times and, as uncomfortable as it is to put ourselves on the line, our lives may get much more uncomfortable if we don’t.

Cold Read, Warm Heart

Reading aloud with Ian Raffel & Gerry Trentham at Canada’s National Voice Intensive, U.B.C., 2009 (photo credit: Marcus Wu)

When I was growing up, my family used to have a holiday tradition of a reading of Charles Dickens’s ‘A Christmas Carol’. At some point in the afternoon on Christmas Day, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins would arrive, and, as my father cooked the Christmas feast, we would gather in the living room with copies of the story, all taking parts and reading it aloud. My father liked taking the role of Marley’s ghost, especially when he discovered he could enhance his performance by bashing cooking utensils and pots for sound effects. “I WEAR THE CHAIN I FORGED IN LIFE!!!” he shrieked from the kitchen, nearly giving my grandfather a heart-attack.

At the time, I just saw it as part of our weird English family’s old-fashioned ways - like the carols we always sang together while my mother accompanied us on the old upright piano.

But those readings have done more for my career than I knew or appreciated at the time. Any actor worth their training knows the value of good cold-reading skills for tv, film, or theatre auditions. And they are essential for voice-over work. When you get called to the studio for a voice-over audition, you may or may not get the script or copy in advance. Mostly you just show up, head into the booth, and fire away. In these situations, you’ll make faster friends with the engineer and director if you don’t waste time stumbling through long passages or struggling to grasp the sense of a phrase.

As a coach, I advise actors to develop this skill by, you guessed it, practicing. The simple and obvious truth is that if you read aloud every day, you get better at reading anything aloud. It doesn’t have to be painful, you don’t have to make it a race – like the novelist Donna Tartt says, “if you’re not enjoying something, it’s almost always because you’re doing it too fast.” And let’s not get mired in questions about talent or artistry. As the plié is to the mover, so reading aloud is to the speaker. It’s your barre work. Read Charles Dickens, read Toni Morrison, read Marie Clements, read any writing you love…just read good words and speak them out loud.

Do it every day, so that it becomes as natural as breathing.

Written in the Body

When I was completing my master’s degree, my advisor told me that her wish for me going forward was “that you spend time every day just being in your body.” She had noticed my habit of intellectualizing voice work. I believe this can be a strength for a coach: investigating the structure of languages and researching the meanings of words. I value the clear articulation of complex thoughts through the spoken word.

But the human voice is bodily process, a physical action. I do now spend time every day being in my body, and I seek new ways of developing and honouring this physical side of voice and text work.

Recently, I had an opportunity to work with Deaf artists on Shakespeare text. This extraordinary group of performers challenged my traditional approaches to text work, executing exercises in ways that were completely different from what I’d experienced before, adding new meaning and resonance to the texts. As I perceived through interpreters, the signed languages were communicating something far beyond a literal meaning. And this turned my phonocentric exercises - used by hearing actors to uncover layers of deeper meanings - into something of a game of catch-up.

My sense is that ASL expresses, through the body, not only poetic structures, grammar, and images, but even metaphor, temporal aspects, or emotional states. Of course this is particularly exciting in Shakespeare performance, which is always a process of interpretation – there is no objective ‘Hamlet’.

For me, it’s also a fitting reminder that words and ideas don’t reside solely in the brain. I have often thought of words being physical: muscular and filled with kinetic energy. But it’s also true that our bodies are linguistic. Now I find myself circling back to hear my mentor’s voice, “be in your body”. So maybe that’s my homework: investigating the structure and meaning and signs in the language of the body.

Burned Out On The Fry

Who isn’t talking about vocal fry these days? Google will give you 509,000 responses in .28 seconds and they come from journalists, speech therapists, actors, job coaches, physicians, singers, politicians…

In a Guardian newspaper article, Naomi Wolf called on young women to “give up the vocal fry and reclaim your strong female voice”: 

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/jul/24/vocal-fry-strong-female-voice

A response to that article accused Wolf of “missing the point”. Complaining about vocal fry, says Erin Riley, is just another excuse not to listen to women:

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/jul/28/naomi-wolf-misses-the-point-about-vocal-fry-its-just-an-excuse-not-to-listen-to-women

In some ways I agree with both points of view. It seems (anecdotally, at least) that we are often more critical of women’s voices than men’s. Traditional authority figures still, in 2016, try to discount the voices of young women in particular. However, standing up for the right to be heard also means resisting pressure to conform to a popular sound which could damage your voice. I hope that women, especially young women, can be true to themselves -- expressing themselves with authenticity, and saving and cherishing their precious voices. Our voices are the means with which we tell the world who we are.

This debate came up for me again in a recent visit to a Women’s Studies class at Vancouver Island University.

The students expressed differing points of view, and some admitted they had not previously been aware of vocal fry, or had never carefully considered their own voices. By the end of the discussion, they were excited to continue reflecting on these questions, and inspired by the possibility of harnessing the power of their authentic voices in their careers and their personal lives.