When Los Angeles vocal coach Lisa Popeil demonstrates vocal styles it’s like watching—and hearing—20 singers in one. She conjures pop and jazz icons (Ella Fitzgerald, Reba McEntire, Whitney Houston) the way a magician produces rabbits. She paints with a full spectrum of vocal colors, crafting distinctly voiced characters for a variety of opera and operetta roles.
At the 2005 SummerSong Vocal Arts Institute, in the midst of rehearsals for Monteverdi’s The Coronation of Poppea, a group of emerging classical singers turned to each other after her demonstration, as if to say, “Well, we only do about a tenth of that. So now what?” An obviously excited student asked the burning question, “How in the world do you do that? You sound so different each time you open your mouth.”
Lisa’s facility in singing a large variety of styles is distinct from the purely imitative, chameleon-like qualities of a vocal mimic. Instead, she emphasizes in her teaching the development of ease, charisma, and self-knowledge, essential tools for artists who wish to make conscious choices about tonal color and expressivity.
Many classical singers feel their sound is “built in,” and therefore immutable—but could there be more freedom, and broader possibilities, than we might think? I recently spoke with Popeil to gain her perspective on what classical singers can learn from mimicry and the vocal techniques of other genres.
You began classical vocal training at a very early age. What is it that led you away from a classical career towards your interest in a wide variety of genres and singing styles?
I started singing lessons at age 6 1/2 and by age 7 I had the beginning of nodules. All I can remember of my first teacher was her yelling “louder, louder.” Even my mother realized something was very wrong, so she begged the well-respected Chicago voice instructor Gisela Goettling to work with me. That began a close eight-year relationship in which I studied classical voice exclusively.
I loved my lessons and was fascinated at how many elements of life were touched in the course of a voice lesson: emotions, art, dealing with fear, being confused and achieving clarity, learning languages, exploring characters, and simply having challenging music in my life.
When I was 11, I wanted to explore the kinds of singing I was hearing on the radio. It was confounding to me that with all my training, I could not replicate the sounds I was hearing from the really good pop singers—but when I asked my teacher if she could help me sing that way, it upset her greatly. She was afraid that if I pursued this kind of singing, I would lose everything we had worked for. I understood her concerns, but felt that there must be a way to sing that way, because to my ears Barbara Streisand and Aretha Franklin sounded great!
It became a personal challenge for me to figure out how to sing other styles without hurting myself. Later on, I found a real need for this kind of versatility in Los Angeles’ session-singing world: “Can you make it more R&B? Can you make it more country?” That sort of professional demand.
How did you first come to develop your “Voiceworks” technique for teaching different styles?
I began by listening to and watching great singers, then exploring what they were doing in great detail. When I felt that I was matching them fairly well, I’d analyze what was going on in my mouth, throat, face, airflow, resonance, attitude, even stance. Every time I felt I had “nailed” a style, I took a mental snapshot of everything I was doing.
How does this influence your teaching now? Your students span a real vocal spectrum.
As a teacher, I feel compelled to be able to not only describe vocal styles but be able to demonstrate them as well. Imitation is such a vital learning tool—it saves a lot of time in the student’s progress.
My approach is intended to be clear, simple, and task-oriented. I lay out what I believe to be the basic skills that all singers should understand, and how vocal styles derive from the configurations of individual elements, such as dialect and emotions. It’s quite different from the traditional image approach. It’s not that I don’t use traditional Bel Canto concepts on occasion—they’re in the big bag of tricks singing teachers must have—but what I’ve found works best is to show people “how” to sing, to explain exactly what to do so they can control their instruments. That way the singer can get to the magic making faster!
I’ve got this 9 out of 10 rule: If 9 out of 10 students immediately achieve the result I’m going for, then the terminology or exercise stays on my A list. The goal is healthy, beautiful, easy singing, with style authenticity and great emotional expression.
One of my favorite sayings is: “If it doesn’t thrill, don’t bother.”
Having come from the classical world, I believe that there is much a classical singer can gain by dipping a toe in the non-classical world, which includes world music as well. I may be criticized for saying this, but my view is that the young classical singer can become overly fearful through years of focus on technical perfection and achieving volume, and become a slave to legato and vibrato.
I believe that singing should be a joyful expression of the heights and depths of human experience, and sometimes the extreme focus on technical perfection can diminish an individual’s courage. In the commercial music world, singers can be more courageous about tonal and emotional choices. We’re not judged as harshly nor held to standards that have developed over hundreds of years.
Regarding tonal choices, I think that conscious brightening and darkening through the exposure or covering of the teeth is a wonderful addition to the standard “ring” requirement. Changing the vertical height of the larynx can also help a classical singer change moods without losing the basic sound. If a singer always sings with a lowered larynx, an important color choice has been eliminated. Why use vibrato on every note? Straight tone seems to be a more acceptable choice these days in classical singing, maybe used only 3 to 5 percent of the time, but it does add variety.
Pop and jazz singers use varying degrees of airflow. I find that air in the sound (not breathiness, but what I call a “blowy sound”) is perhaps the most expressive device of all, and a fabulous way to create an emotional response in the listener.
Physical gesture is often discouraged in classical voice training—the thinking being that emotion should be channeled into the voice and face. But look at someone like Natalie Dessay in the Mad Scene from Hamlet, in which she contorts and dances around the stage. It’s masterful. Jazz and cabaret singing focus on storytelling and I have found myself sobbing at performances by singers who hardly have any voice at all. Once technique is in place, I think storytelling should be the focus.
At a recent audition, I heard an auditor say of a musical theatre performer, “If opera singers could sell pieces like that, they’d all be famous.” How do you respond to such a statement? Is historically informed performance practice essential? How do we bridge the perceived gap between “interesting” and “correct” performance?
Great questions. I think that classical music performance is primarily an interpretive art, rather than a creative art form and that there should be rules regarding sound, movement, and decorum. That said, there will always be people who want to bend the rules, which we’ve seen recently in radically modern opera staging, but not yet in vocal production. I wouldn’t be surprised if we hear more “belting” in opera in the next 20 years, but for now the typical classical listener craves the elegance and historical connection of the great works of the past. It’s soothing and reassuring somehow to get what you expect. For opera to continue in a large way in the United States, however, there will have to be innovation to help bring in the younger set used to the fast cuts of MTV.
I’d like to return to the question of mimicry, since it seems to be such a hotly debated topic. When is imitation useful, and when does it become artificial or a crutch for a singer?
I think that exposure to a wide variety of classical vocal recordings is beneficial to young people, especially children and young teenagers. Anyone who is considered great in the field is worth listening to and discussing with one’s teacher. What do I like about this one and not that one? Every voice type should be heard, including countertenors.
I have a “lending library,” which I make available to my students, and I always ask for feedback as to why one singer was preferred over another. It helps a student separate the vocal sound from the vocal performance and from the song itself. Usually a young student doesn’t possess . . . [the] vocabulary to describe her perceptions—then I might jump in and see if I can provide clarity. Of course, there’s no way a teacher’s own taste and biases can be disguised!
I think singers should not be afraid of imitation for study purposes. Vocal mimicry is an asset and should be developed. The danger lies in a student picking only one or two singers to imitate and copying those singers’ flaws and idiosyncrasies. Development of one’s personal style is not achieved in a vacuum. We must start somewhere. In addition to helping us develop our personal style and skills, mimicry can also be a powerful tool for balancing one’s own deficits: listening to “light” singers if one sings too “heavy,” or vice versa.
Of course, to become unique, there is some emotional stretching, experimentation, and even suffering involved. Imitation is just one of many tools in the development of great artistry.
The path to mastery is never finished. It’s a long path, which may narrow with the years, but continues. To keep the journey fresh and the art alive, I think it’s wise to be open to new approaches and stretch past our emotional comfort zones.
Lisa Popeil is the recipient of a 2006 L.A. Music Award for “Career Achievement in Vocal Instruction.” Find more information about Lisa Popeil and the Voiceworks Method at www.popeil.com.
