A lesson from Jane

The other day I had the absolute pleasure of a visit from Jane, from the choir, for a vocal coaching lesson! I’d been telling her that I always end up with a sore throat the day after rehearsal and she’d suggested that a wee bit of vocal coaching might just solve the problem.

I don’t think I’ve been singing properly for years. I remember one school show (a long, long time ago!), which ran for four or five nights. By the end of the week, my mum was making up all sorts of concoctions with glycerol and honey to help make my voice last till the end of the run. One of the solos I had to sing required a kind of sultry, low voice, which wasn’t helping (‘Turn Back Ol’ Man’ in ‘Godspell’) and the fact that I had to sing the song as loudly as possible while strutting about the audience, trailing a feather boa and sitting on random male audience members’ knees also wasn’t helping! (I remember making sure that the likes of my Dad, Alex, my brother, and various male friends sat on the designated seats so that I didn’t have to sit on some random dirty old teacher’s knee!) My voice only just made it to the end of the week - thanks to Mum and her potions!

Anyway, back to my lesson. I’d had a really lovely long lunch with my pal Elaine, so my vocal cords were well warmed up in time for Jane coming along! I’ve never had any form of singing lesson in my life, so I had absolutely no idea what to expect and - if truth be told - I was a wee bit nervous! There was absolutely no need to be, however, as Jane was just brilliant at putting me totally at ease. And, even better, within the first fifteen minutes she’d more or less pin-pointed the things that I should try doing differently to help prevent my voice disappearing after belting out a few songs. It all comes down to the way that I breathe or, more accurately, don’t breathe while I sing. The rest of the lesson was taken up with Jane, who has the patience of a saint, showing me how to put her ideas into practice. It’ll take a while to break old habits, but with Jane’s expert help I’m confident that I’ll learn how to look after my poor old throat a wee bit better, and hopefully be able to keep on singing without having to fall back on those bloody horrible ‘vocalzone’ throat lozenges!

It wasn’t just the help with my breathing that I enjoyed about Jane’s visit; she sat down at my dad’s piano and played it beautifully. Dad couldn’t read music, but he played brilliantly by ear. His piano was his absolute pride and joy and, when Gemma was little, he used to sit her on his knee and let her plonk away at the keys. It’s such a shame that he’s not around to see that Gemma inherited his love of music and, just like him, has a gift for playing by ear. Gemma inherited the piano when Dad died, so it has pride of place in our lounge until she has a place of her own big enough to house it. For the moment, because she’s away at Uni most of the time, the piano doesn’t get played as often as it used to, so it’s always an absolute joy when someone who can play really well comes in to our house and brings the piano to life – and Jane certainly did that! She’s got a beautiful voice too, and it was a privilege to be standing there singing a wee duet with her as she played.

I was so touched when Jane berated me for saying that I didn’t think I had that great a voice compared to most of the other members of the choir. She compared the choir to an orchestra, explaining how it's made up of all different sounds, tones and textures and that there's a place, in our very special epitome of a community choir, for all kinds of different voices. It was a lovely image to leave me with and that, along with a heap of good advice and a great wee blether, made me feel really good.