Dear Reader, 

September’s issue of Art Grove Newsletter is an exploration of the role education plays in an artist’s life and journey. Whether you’re a student, teacher, or someone who has chosen a different way to hone your craft, there’s room in this issue to discuss the process of sharing and receiving knowledge as an artist.

I’m a voice teacher, this is important to note because teaching singing is inherently different from teaching clarinet or viola in that the instrument itself is invisible and deeply intrinsic to the student’s sense of identity. Cultivating and fortifying voices is not a task I take lightly in the present day, but for many years my focus was less on the singer as a whole person and more on their external goal of performing well for an audition or show. In short, my lessons focused on outcome over understanding. 

In May I began freelancing as a performer, composer, producer and educator after leaving my full time job. As I’ve cultivated a full roster of students, I’ve found myself refining my teaching philosophies more and more. After 8 years of on and off teaching in a variety of settings, I am now able to put into words how my values as an artist affect the processes I use with my students as an instructor. 

When I was in school to become a professional singer, evaluating my own skill set felt easy. Academia traditionally hosts a full measure of benchmarks through juries, auditions, and performances where the power lies in the choice of the professors and administrators to tell you how well you’re doing. I learned this system early, and as a result it favored me at that time. I remember strategizing my audition plans and faculty networking based on past results, obsessing over how to be seen and heard as the performer I wanted to be. Through repertoire and acting classes I learned a tired lesson over and over again: being a singer is about being a conduit for the composer’s will. 

The truth of the matter is, I valued the opinions of those appointed to evaluate me far more than I valued my opinion of the work I did or the efficacy of my studies. I created a system for winning auditions in the microcosm of the opera industry that was my small music college. I did not know who I was as an artist or what I wanted to say. 

Since undergrad I’ve been lucky to experience an awakening of sorts. I’ve embarked on a transformation from singer into artist (still in progress). I’ve escaped the role of conduit and have taken up the work of a composer. My aim is to trust the musicians who interpret my music to do so with their own identity and creativity. I stopped auditioning and began self-producing and creating my own projects. I continually work to know myself better, to respect my own artistry and instincts, and work against systems that actively try to restrict the ways in which I make art in this world. 

The biggest truth I’ve learned from trying to detach from the traditional singing career I had pined after is understanding the difference between what other people want for me and what I want for me. I took note of the points in the process of performing a role or auditioning that I really hated and those that I really loved. The task of knowing myself more and more began overshadowing the task of aspiring or attempting to “make it” in the opera industry. 

With this journey in mind, I’d like to share a few guiding philosophies I’m bringing with me into this new academic year.

1. A key learning objective for early voice study is sharpening the student’s awareness and sensitivity around what their body does to create certain sounds. It is not about control, it is not about shaping, it is about cultivating the skill of identifying and describing isolated sensations. This objective takes the pressure of “sounding better” off the table and instead prioritizes the process of getting to know your own body and voice in a technical way. 

2. Many students begin their vocal studies with mimicry or emulation of artists they enjoy. Particularly with my younger students, my job is to recognize the value of the mimicked sound while beginning to teach them that the most interesting thing you can be as an artist is yourself. We know that in singing there are inherited genetic qualities that change the nature of the voice’s sound acoustically and in terms of range. My personal feeling is to teach the value of individuality, to encourage my students to engage with the mosaic, the quilt, the collage that is their unique lived experience and ancestry, the effects of which make their voice unique to them. 

3. Student interest must be the blueprint, from there the puzzle of teaching becomes how to connect their interests to the skills required to engage with the topics they are interested in. Easier said than done.

4. With pre-professional students I believe it is so important to honestly discuss the current hierarchical systems at play in the industry. For me, the best advice to share is oddly based off of RuPaul’s famous Drag Race catch phrase: “If you can't love yourself, how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else?” which, in my version reads “If you don’t choose yourself, how can any one else choose you?” 

5. Artists originate material, but that does not mean they do not draw upon sources other than their personal lived experience. Engaging with materials outside of voice pedagogy and technical music topics can remind us of the role this art form takes outside of academia. Required reading for voice lessons with me is as follows:

   1. “The Journey” by Mary Oliver

   2. “Questions I Ask Myself” by Elliot Cole for New Music America

There is so much more to discuss in the practice of teaching voice. But what I’ve shared above represents my most important and recent findings that I’ve found liberate me as a voice teacher while empowering my students to celebrate their own artistry through use of their unique voice. 

The voice teachers I’ve had over the years have led me to these discoveries, particularly Mark Moliterno and Bill Burden –– two incredibly patient and skilled teachers who empowered me to find my own path, even when it was intense and hard to understand. 

So I ask you, as this new academic year begins, how can you engage with your art, as a teacher and student, in a way that honors your voice?

Stay tuned for the full issue on September 15th. Until then, I leave you with the reflective questions for this issue:

In what ways does teaching art influence your artistic practice? Examine the ways in which teaching fills your cup and/or depletes your creative energy.

When you’re teaching, do you find yourself saying things that you wish you’d heard as a student? If so, what is the wisdom you share?

When taking a lesson from a master artist or master teacher, what strategies do you have for making the most out of each lesson?

Thank you for joining us this month,

– Betsy Podsiadlo, Creative Director of Art Grove Newsletter