Wilbur and Orville Wright weren’t the first to take flight. But in 1903, their persistent attempts to take to the sky resulted in the first free, controlled, and sustained flights in a power-driven, heavier-than-air machine. The longest flight on that December day came with Wilbur’s fourth attempt and lasted 59 seconds. By 1904, the Wright brothers extended their flight times to over five minutes and made the first circular flights in history.
What made these longer flying times and circular motions possible? Previous airplane designers thought of steering a plane in the same terms of navigating on land, only elevated—left, right, forward, and back but always level. The Wright brothers, however, designed their planes to move laterally, so that a pilot could tilt the plane and lean into a turn like a bird or a person riding a bike would do.
Their main design change involved drooping wings, which are inherently unstable. In essence, they took the stability out of the design and added instability to the equation. This balance of both stability and instability continues to impact aviation and airplanes today.
Performers are no strangers to instability. A steady income, secure health benefits, and regular work hours with evenings, weekends, and holidays free to spend with family and friends—that kind of stability is not a reality for most singers. And, for many, the unpredictability can be overwhelming. Michelle Latour talked with singers at all career levels and asked how they deal with the inherent instability of a singing career (p. 32). Their ideas for not only coping but also thriving are inspiring. Some even say that the uncertainty and difficulty of their choice of profession has helped them appreciate and value the good things even more.
In Claudia Friedlander’s “Musings on Mechanics” column this month, she discusses the instability/stability paradox in terms of our physical bodies and how that, in turn, relates to singing (p. 14). Activities like yoga and pilates can help us discover where we are lacking strength, flexibility, and balance. Incorporating those into our singing practice will also reveal weaknesses in our vocal technique. Friedlander says that this process of uncovering areas of instability can help us find increased stability.
In this issue you can also read about Jacqueline Zander-Wall, a singer who is working to provide more stability for singers through her Vocal Artistry Art Song Festival, which she founded in 2008 (p. 28). Through prize money, further education, and networking opportunities, the festival is making a difference for New Mexico singers. Read how Zander-Wall has made her vision a reality—and consider doing something similar in your sphere of influence.
Nothing can make you feel more vocally unstable than branching out into an unfamiliar musical genre. Voice professor Mary Saunders-Barton has been helping singers of all backgrounds find vocal security in musical theatre, pop, jazz, and other contemporary styles (p. 38). She also shares how an established musical theatre vocal technique is still coming into its own.
Perhaps the most advantageous aspect of the inherent instability of a singing career is that it never allows us to get too comfortable. Instability keeps us moving which, if we choose to let it, can keep us learning, growing, and progressing. And—although more metaphorically than literally—like the Wilbur brothers, as instability leads us to stability, we too can learn to fly.
