Many singers and voice teachers have been eagerly awaiting the arrival of Jane Heirich’s book,Voice and the Alexander Technique. Other authors have written books about the Alexander Technique and the voice, but most of those books deal primarily with speaking and are written from an actor’s perspective (which makes perfect sense, since a stage actor developed the technique). Yet the prospect of a book by an Alexander teacher, a singer and a singing teacher all wrapped up in one person, holds the promise of revealing in print how to apply the sometimes mysterious and often misunderstood Alexander principles to the often mysterious and sometimes misunderstood act of singing.
As both a singer and an Alexander teacher myself, I am well aware of the pedantry that combining these two subjects can produce. Facing what may be a tough audience in that vein, Heirich does a good job of explaining—simply, clearly and thoroughly—the Alexander Technique and the basics of how the voice works, without robbing either subject of its innate subtlety or complexity. The book is filled with information, most of it presented clearly and thoughtfully without getting highly technical. The book requires patient study and active participation, however, particularly if you are unfamiliar with the core ideas Heirich sets forth. Heirich writes that her intended audience includes everyone from: “someone who wants to be better understood by his co-workers” to professional singers and teachers—an exceedingly tall order.
Voice and the Alexander Technique begins with a useful discussion of habits, then segues into a clear and practical explanation of the Alexander Technique. Heirich refers throughout the book to the ideas introduced here, particularly whenever she asks the reader to sing or speak something. This approach—explaining something generally then referring to it later with an activity—is a useful way of handling what could be confusing principles, and gives readers the opportunity to learn through experience.
Four of the book’s nine chapters are devoted to “Games and Explorations,” in addition to many “To Do” activities spread throughout the book. The book comes with a CD that features verbal instructions and examples of all the musical exercises in the entire book—a great tool for anyone without access to a piano, or for those who would like to liberate themselves from the piano during practice. Heirich suggests that having the verbal guidance and musical accompaniment on CD also opens up the possibility of doing some of the exercises in different ways, such as – in “Monkey,” or crawling, sitting down, standing up, or walking.
The nature of vocal pedagogy means that the “Voice Primer” section probably contains something for everyone to disagree with. (To paraphrase an old joke: two voice teachers, three opinions.) Heirich makes frequent reference to her background in the Bel Canto teaching tradition, but avoids giving overly specific advice on vocal technique. She stays general for the most part, relying on anatomical and physiological information to describe how the voice works best. Her goal seems to be not to tell the reader how to do it right, but instead to guide an exploration of habits and encourage overall freedom and ease.
Some of her headings are provocative, perhaps unintentionally. For example, several colleagues raised their eyebrows in alarm or shock when I showed them the subheading: “Learn to adjust the vocal folds per pitch (frequency),” but the text made clear that this is a function of “mental coordination” controlled as “your mind makes a request.” Another colleague took one look at the heading “Learn to ‘open’ the throat” and closed the book immediately, failing to read Heirich’s subsequent admonition that: “We should never try to ‘open’ the throat directly, however … even if it were possible.” Overall, I think examples like these can be an opportunity for the reader to challenge preconceived ideas by continuing to read and experiment; they also provide a good opening to explain different opinions in vocal pedagogy to a student.
The concepts in Voice and the Alexander Technique that may be most controversial—and perhaps most useful—involve breathing. Heirich takes issue with some common ideas about breathing, including “‘low breath’ that fills the abdominal cavity,” “attempting to control the breath via the abdominal muscles,” and singing as “breath holding with a slow leak.” Her explanation of the anatomy of breathing is clear and well illustrated. She devotes an entire chapter of activities to “re-education of the breathing system,” providing useful, experiential support (no pun intended) for her ideas—ideas that are shared by the Alexander Technique teaching community as a whole.
Overall, Heirich’s explanations, when read carefully and thoughtfully, convey an accurate understanding of both a healthy use of the voice and of the Alexander Technique. Even though—or perhaps because—the intersection of these topics is how I spend my professional life, I found the book’s writing to be an unusual combination of the not-very-specific and the incredibly dense that overall was fairly slow going.
I was surprised to discover that the book is sized as a coffee-table book. It is lovely, well designed, and pleasant to look at and hold—but as a New Yorker, the size was an obstacle for me; so much of my reading is done on the go, I like to carry a book around with me. After several days spent hitting subway riders on either side of me, Voice and the Alexander Technique found itself relegated to my coffee table.
Overall, I think this book would be very useful to singers studying the Alexander Technique with a teacher—and perhaps a thought-provoking introduction to singers who are not. Singing teachers who agree with Heirich’s thinking will find useful activities for their teaching, and those who don’t agree will either reconsider their technique or dismiss the book altogether. Either way, to access the material, Voice and the Alexander Technique requires real engagement. I recommend diving in and finding out.
