Who doesn’t dream of singing a magnificent solo cantata, a cantata that feels custom-made for your voice, for a packed and appreciative audience at Carnegie Hall? On April 24, Victoria Hart experienced that very dream, when she made her Carnegie Hall debut, as the contralto soloist in Ralph Vaughan Williams’ Magnificat (MidAmerica Productions).
Dr. Hart is certainly not new to the opera world. Equally at home in comedy and drama, she has appeared in leading and supporting roles as diverse as Marcellina in Le nozze di Figaro, Katisha in The Mikado, the Witch in Hansel and Gretel, Prince Orlofsky in Die Fledermaus, Ruth in The Pirates of Penzance, La Zia Principessa from Suor Angelica, and Suzuki in Madama Butterfly. She has also sung most of the standard solo oratorio repertoire for alto. She has performed leading roles with many regional opera companies, including Knoxville Opera, Fresno Opera, Opera Santa Barbara, Rimrock Opera, and Lyric Opera of Kansas City, among others.
Dr. Hart was also a finalist in the Liederkranz Wagnerian Singer competition in 2004, and has been a member of the voice faculties of Westmont College in Montecito, Calif. and the Artistic Repertory Theater School in Orlando, Fla. She earned her doctorate in vocal performance at the University of California, Santa Barbara.
Yet with all these accomplishments and areas of expertise, this singer and educator feels her greatest achievement is not listed anywhere in her curriculum vitae. Her achievement? The four-year, “exceedingly painful yet rewarding” experience of piecing her voice back together—note by note, muscle by muscle—following her surgery in 1999 for thyroid cancer.
The challenges were enormous, and so were the rewards. The lessons she learned, on both the mental and physical planes, were manifold and paved the way for her career to advance and blossom in ways she never dreamt possible.
More importantly, her “excruciatingly specific” vocal rehabilitation provided her with a laser-like ability to assess her student’s vocal issues, articulate the shifts those students need to make, give them an experience of greater vocal freedom, and provide a deeper understanding of how their voices function—all within one or two lessons.
Your ability to facilitate major improvements in such a short amount of time is extraordinary. From both my own as well as my colleagues’ experiences, it usually takes at least six months to a year to accomplish even a fraction of that. How are you able to achieve those kinds of results?
I believe it is the knowledge I gained during the long and difficult rebuilding process. My doctors had assured me that my voice would return to normal two weeks after my surgery. I realize now that they were thinking of my speaking voice. My singing voice was decimated, and it took four years of grueling hard work to get it back. That demanding process, however, gave me skills and abilities as a voice teacher that I would otherwise have never developed.
After the operation, my range went from over two-and-a-half octaves to about one octave. My voice stopped at A above middle C. When I say stopped, I mean I was not able to make any sound above that. The sound I made below that was raspy, ugly, and literally unrecognizable from my pre-surgery voice.
Even in my most vocally challenged students, rarely are there any problems that I did not have to confront directly in my own vocal rehabilitation. Therefore, when it comes to vocal issues or problems, literally nothing concerns or confuses me.
Does that include the emotional component, as well?
Absolutely. I’m all too familiar with the despair and frustration connected with working tirelessly on one’s voice, which occurs when you aren’t happy with the sound you are making but don’t know how to change it. It is very rewarding for me to be able to give my students the specific information and the experience they need to realize their potential as singers.
How did your own recovery have an impact on your work as a teacher?
After my surgery, nothing in my throat functioned as it had in the past. My old ways of accessing my voice, through mental imagery and generalized sensation, were now absolutely useless. The only way I could slowly reclaim normal vocal function was to retrain the individual muscle groups one by one, understanding the anatomical function of all the parts of the body involved with singing, and by using principles of speech therapy.
The process meant rebuilding my voice note by note, which I could not have done without the help of an extraordinary voice teacher, Fred Carama. His incredible knowledge of vocal anatomy and function was invaluable and essential to my recovery. He took me step by step through the long healing process with calm confidence. His patience and confidence inspired me to continue to work, even when I was in despair. I learned a lot about the heart of teaching during those years.
From that experience, I developed a precise knowledge of how the voice functions physiologically. Since I am not only a voice teacher, but also a working singer, I am able to impart this knowledge to my students on both the intellectual and the experiential levels.
Can you elaborate on why it is so important to understand the anatomical mechanics of singing?
The mechanics of singing are almost all internal and cannot be seen, so singers tend to rely on very subjective imagery that is often unconected, or occasionally diametrically opposed, to the actual anatomical process of singing.
For example, when asked for an “open throat,” many students depress their tongues, putting pressure on the larynx. In the desire to “send the tone forward,” some singers squeeze the throat, or sing with a nasal, pinched tone.
I prefer to give my students the specific anatomical and physiological information, and then guide them towards recognizing the sensations that arise from proper usage of the vocal mechanism.
Since it is impossible to hear one’s own voice accurately while singing, developing a strong physical sense of how the voice works is vital to a singer feeling secure in his or her technique. Once that is achieved, if they want to attach any subjective feelings or images that work for them, that’s fine.
Makes sense. That technique sounds ideal for people who are very sensation or kinesthetically oriented. How do you work with students who are more visually oriented?
That’s a great question, and indeed, with very visually oriented students it is sometimes necessary to use imagery to guide the coordination of the voice. But it’s important to make sure that instead of focusing imagery on a result, we focus on the action.
Singing is pure process. The process or activity is what we must recreate when we sing. If we try to recreate a “result” such as, “when I sing right I feel like my voice is going forward,” we can get into trouble. Even though the sound is going forward, physiologically nothing is actually moving forward. If the singer confuses the result, which is the sensation of “forward,” with the activity which creates that sensation, and which may physiologically be opposite to that sensation, then technical problems of pushing and forcing can develop.
Your journey with cancer has certainly had an impact on your approach as both a teacher and a singer. Has it had an impact on your beliefs as well?
Well, as a teacher, I know now that there is no such thing as a bad voice, only bad vocal function. I see all voices as inherently perfect. Correct vocal function allows for the expression of that innate perfection. My job is to create a safe space, as well as provide the information and guidance so that my singers can experience the ease and beauty of singing, which is their birthright.
I also believe that a solid technique reveals the voice, it doesn’t create it. When we allow the technique to reveal the authentic voice, rather then imposing upon a voice, that’s true vocal freedom. Then the voice truly soars.
I also differentiate right from the beginning the concept of work versus struggle. There’s often a lot of confusion in that area. Work is implementing proper effort in the right way and receiving a positive result, and struggle is exerting effort in a way that doesn’t give an effective result. Singing well requires a great deal of work. However, there should be little or no struggle involved.
In terms of the impact on my work as a singer, I no longer spend time worrying “Will they like me?” I’m much more focused on “How can I be of service?” to the composer, the audience, and my colleagues. I now feel like I have everything to offer, and nothing to lose. I find that mindset very freeing.
In the process, you went from being a dramatic mezzo to a contralto. Was that difficult to deal with, either emotionally or technically? What about having to learn an entirely new repertoire?
No, actually I had the total opposite response. It was a joy and a gift. There are so many wonderful character roles for contraltos. Acting, and especially comedy, have always been particular gifts of mine, so I was truly delighted with the opportunities that presented themselves with this change. There were also more opportunities for oratorio work.
I truly love doing concert work of all kinds. Even though I love opera, I adore the purity of concert work, with no sets or costumes, just the performers, the music, and the audience. It’s wonderful!
What are the three greatest lessons you’ve learned from this chapter in your life that you’d like impart to either new singers or singers going through what I call being a “square peg in a round hole looking for a square hole”?
Well the first thing I’d say is to trust yourself. When I first discovered the lump (I found only one, two others were discovered later) on my thyroid gland, I went to doctor after doctor who told me there was no lump, and that I was “imagining it.” Thankfully, from all the years of poking around my neck when I felt tension, I was quite familiar with that part of my body. I was unwilling to take “no” for an answer. The process took an entire year, two ultrasounds, and a botched biopsy before I got an accurate diagnosis. Trusting myself basically saved my life.
I’d say the second lesson is, be tenacious! Don’t stop looking. If you’re not happy with a teacher or a situation in your life, keep exploring. Don’t ignore the pebble in your shoe. If you do, I can assure you, it’ll become a boulder. One must give that “little voice a loud speaker.”
Thirdly, everything is an opportunity. I don’t believe everything happens for the best, as there are true tragedies in life, but I do believe that there are always tremendous opportunities for learning and growth in every life experience.
When you speak about teaching your whole face lights up. I know many singers who are also teachers, who may enjoy it and feel quite fulfilled by it, but see it as an avocation or a means to an end. It doesn’t seem like you’re in that category.
You’re absolutely right. I love singing, and needless to say, singing at Carnegie Hall was an incredible experience. As a teacher, it’s imperative to be out “in the field.” How can I stay fresh and continue to support my singers in their careers, if I’m not on the front lines myself? In addition, I love performing and the art form. That being said, with all the gratifying experiences I’ve had as a singer, nothing has come close to that moment with a student when the “lights go on,” and all of a sudden some persistent vocal block simply evaporates and their voice is released. No moment on stage has ever come close to the joy of that experience for me.
Speaking of performing, what was it like to perform at Carnegie Hall?
During the rehearsal, I was really nervous and my hands were shaking. I haven’t felt such an onrush of nerves like that in a long time. Once I was performing, it was wonderful. Feeling my voice go out into that magnificent space, receiving the response of the audience, feeling the power of the orchestra and chorus behind me was thrilling. I also thought of my two grandmothers—one wanted to be an opera singer, and the other wanted to be a concert pianist. They were extremely talented women who never got their chance.
I also thought of my mother, who was an incredible supporter of my singing, even during my early “ugly duckling” singing period. She died 11 years ago, but oh, how she would have rejoiced to see me on that stage. So I truly felt I was standing there for three generations of women.
So what’s next for you, Ms. Carnegie Hall? Teaching? Performing?
I have recently relocated my vocal studio to Los Angeles. I used to commute back and forth between Santa Barbara and Los Angeles, but I’m delighted and grateful to say that my studio in Los Angeles has expanded so much that I’ve moved there permanently. I’m looking forward to getting involved in the blossoming musical life of Los Angeles. In addition, in the coming year I will be singing Ulrica in Un ballo in maschera and doing my first Verdi Requiem. I just finished singing Emilia in Otello with the Fresno Opera in May, so it looks like it’s going to be a Verdi year for me.
Victoria Hart can be reached at Contralto1@aol.com
