Singing. Between the oak and the reed.

Modifié le : 2019/08/03

To sing is also to dance inter­nal­ly with your body, at the very least. You project the rib cage towards an invis­i­ble inten­tion. I tend to raise my arms, which could seem like unnec­es­sary grandil­o­quence. How­ev­er, in the show­er this morn­ing, I under­stood, I think, the rea­son. When the diaphragm, a silent and uncon­trol­lable mus­cle, cor­rect­ly par­tic­i­pates in the singing, it lifts the chest not just from the front, but espe­cial­ly from the coc­cyx through the ribs under the arms, then through the lat­er­al areas of the shoul­der blades. This results in a nat­ur­al lift­ing of the arms as if the bal­lasts were sud­den­ly too full. The air is there, with­out the bel­ly inter­ven­ing (choir mem­bers are often asked to inflate the bot­tom of the bel­ly, a big mis­take because it tends to cause the spine to bend). Breathe by clos­ing your mouth (through your nose), you will understand.

I think we need to think more about our bod­ies like an arc. The spine is the rope that stretch­es. The area where the arrow, the song, is placed is at the lev­el on the back of the ster­num. In doing so, space is made, like a vol­canic chim­ney. The vocal cords are not the sup­port, the air only pass­es through. The lava, the breath, then warms the palate where every­thing vibrates, moves, increas­es as if you were under the vault of a cathe­dral or a cave.

It should not be assumed that this arc ten­sion must be rigid. Singing is not a cross­bow but has the grace of a harp. The work is, there­fore based on a con­tra­dic­tion. You have to be tense to sing, but you don’t have to be hard. You have to con­trol your body to make it vibrate.

You must know how to dance with­out mov­ing, dance with­out unbal­anc­ing, con­trol to lib­er­ate. Strong enough to rise, flex­i­ble enough not to break. Between the oak and the reed. It is nec­es­sary to know how to plow and sow to enjoy the restored spring.