I’m taking a few music classes this Fall at Vanier College in Montreal - namely, music theory and composition, and private piano and voice lessons. It astounds me that the Quebec government is paying for this, but that’s a whole other post right there. Suffice it to say that I am simply delighted to be back at Cégep, which I’ve always felt is the best academic invention since the clicky pencil. It’s positively awesome to be taking these classes. I love being in an environment where I get to think about music all the time. I love that I’m thinking about augmented triads and diminished sevenths, I love that my left hand is getting a good spanking from Handel. And I love that, unlike being in a university or conservatory, this is a part-time, lower-stake commitment, and an environment that is more nourishing and nurturing than competitive.
Aaanyways. The main focus in my singing lessons at the moment is breath production. Which means that I’m wandering around the city nowadays constantly preoccupied with how my lungs are expanding. This again…
My experience in theatre school can pretty much be summarized as one long love affair with the elusive breath. It was pretty much 35 hours a week of spinal roll-downs, rib-opening exercises, physical meditations, and visualizing air rushing into our panting lungs. “Connecting with the Breath” was our epic goal, our transparent and very vapid Holy Grail. We wrote journals about our breath, we discussed our breath with our colleagues, we did interpretive dances about our breath. Literally. Sounds silly? Thing is, the actor’s instrument is his/her body. The actor’s scales are emotions. The thing that links these two - and the thing that both literally and metaphorically creates sound - is the breath. To observe your breathing is to observe your state of being.
Anyways. Yoga 101.
Point of all this, is that when you’re deeply involved in any breath-focused training - be it yoga practice, vocal technique, acting work, what-have-you - it’s hard to not be constantly preoccupied with your breathing like, all the time. Cuz you’re kinda always breathing, so you always have something to think about. You’re always practicing, and therefore you’re always frustrated. But since you’re always practicing, you also have a lot of lovely little breakthroughs.
This is my fifth week of classes, and I’ve started having some wonderful “Ahah” moments. I’ll be puttering about the house when I suddenly feel my ribcage open in a way that lets more air in than I’m used to feeling. My eyes will smart and I get a sudden endorphin rush, as though my body has just briefly come “home”. The coordination remains for a few pleasant moments, and then passes.
I just came home tonight from my first-ever Capoeira class and I LOVED it! I feel exhilarated - so much leg-swinging and low ginga-ing, and my whole lower body feels so free and flexible right now. My breath feels gooood. Body feels gooood.
I am of the belief that when you release muscular tension from the body, you prepare the soul to create art. So yeah. Bring it on.
Mmmm, agreed, nothing better than feeling and pushing the expansion of something called a “cage”
Posted on September 25th, 2007 at 1:25 pm [permalink]
my best moments of relaxation, falling asleep, my greatest lengths of productivity… all have followed pranayama practice. pranayama, “proper breathing,” is just an umbrella term for many different practices. so much of the time we’re talking or preoccupied with other thoughts, so we forget our breath, but the way i see it, oxygen is the most important food of all.
Posted on September 25th, 2007 at 7:01 pm [permalink]