The seventh vocal lesson |第七次声乐课
about learning singing and more
The seventh vocal lesson
Today was the first time I felt I could get into the right state a little faster than before.
I didn't really sing a full song. Most of the lesson was spent working on the first three words of A Flower, Not a Flower 《花非花》
Strangely enough, I think I finally touched the edge of something.
For a long time, it felt like my teacher was describing a thing that I understood intellectually but simply couldn't do.
Today was the first time I felt like I had found the door.
I still don't know how to describe it accurately.
If I had to try, it would be something like this:
Breathe in through the nose.
Keep the mouth half open.
Almost like you're about to sneeze, but never actually sneeze.
Find a resonance point somewhere near the back of the throat.
Start with a sound that feels like:
"en..."
Then let the airflow travel downward.
All the way into the chest.
When I place my hands on my waist, I can feel the muscles around the diaphragm starting to participate.
During class, my teacher kept asking me to physically touch the muscles she was using while singing. It was honestly a little embarrassing, but without that, I don't think I could have understood the sensation at all.
It's one of those things that are incredibly difficult to explain with language.
Over the past few lessons, I've been learning things that seem completely opposite to intuition.
- Singing isn't really done with the throat.
- When singing, it almost feels like you're breathing inward.
- The higher the pitch, the lower the airflow feels.
- What listeners hear as clear pronunciation often comes from emphasizing the vowel and resonance at the end of the syllable.
And many other things like that.
Once I find that position, I switch the sound to an "ah."
For example, the word hua.
It isn't really one complete syllable.
It's more like a very short h, followed by a much longer ah.
Something like:
h－ah－－－－
Most of the weight is in the second part.
To the audience, the voice sounds stronger and more resonant.
But internally it feels like the opposite.
My throat isn't working hard.
My mouth feels relaxed.
The face stays in a smile.
The eyes are open wide.
The energy feels lifted.
The airflow feels connected from beginning to end.
My teacher constantly talks about this as a stage state, not just a singing technique.
The more I learn, the more I feel that singing isn't primarily about pitch.
It's not even about rhythm.
The hardest part is coordinating dozens of tiny physical actions that are difficult to notice and even harder to describe.
Learning them means fighting against decades of old habits.
Breathing habits.
Speaking habits.
Standing habits.
Everything.
I constantly find myself remembering one thing and forgetting another.
I get the breath right and lose the pronunciation.
I focus on the diaphragm and my throat starts helping again.
Even the smallest change immediately shows up in the sound.
Today was lesson seven.
For the first time, I felt like I sang the first three words of the song reasonably well.
At least they sounded good to my own ears.
When that little "en" sound appeared in the right place, I had a brief moment of realization:
Ah. So this is what professional training sounds like.
Of course, I'm still at the beginning.
There is almost no emotional expression yet.
No real musical interpretation.
I'm still trying to put the sound in the correct place.
And if any detail is slightly wrong, the whole thing falls apart.
A little less support from the breath, and the voice leaks air.
It loses shape.
It loses strength.
I originally thought reaching a 60/100 level in singing wouldn't be that difficult.
Now I'm not so sure.
There are no shortcuts.
Just repetition.
Again and again.
Until one day the muscles remember.
And only then can emotions flow freely through the voice.
Something else surprised me.
Once I started paying attention to how voices work, music itself began sounding different.
I used to have very little interest in Chinese folk singing.
Now when I listen to Gong Linna, I find myself thinking:
Wow. That's beautiful.
It's as if I've suddenly gained the ability to hear things that were always there.
Over the past few years, I've intentionally tried to learn skills that don't depend much on computers.
Last year it was contact juggling.
The year before that, club juggling.
Before that, three-ball juggling.
What I like about these skills is how little they require.
Sometimes almost no equipment at all.
I often imagine some strange future disaster scenario.
What could I still do?
If I say I'm a visual effects artist, I need electricity, computers, software, and an entire technical ecosystem.
If I say I can sing, or juggle, I can start almost anywhere.
During a trip to Turkey, I once picked up three oranges and started juggling.
Before long, a small crowd of locals gathered to watch.
It was such a simple moment, but it felt surprisingly meaningful.
AI will almost certainly make more and more things easier.
Many skills that once required years of training may eventually become accessible through a few prompts.
But perhaps that makes physical skills even more valuable.
Voice.
Rhythm.
Balance.
Coordination.
Direct contact with the real world.
And the ability to share a moment with another human being.
Those things may become increasingly precious in the years ahead.
今天终于觉得，比以前更容易进入状态一点了。
整节课几乎没有唱完整首歌，只是在练《花非花》的前三个字。
但很奇怪。
以前总觉得老师在说一种我知道却做不到的东西。
今天第一次感觉自己好像摸到了门。
我还是不知道该怎么准确描述。
如果一定要说的话，大概是这样：
鼻子吸气。
嘴巴半张。
有点像准备打喷嚏，但又没有真的打出来。
找到后咽壁附近的发声位置。
先发出一种类似“en……”的声音。
然后让气流往下走，一路走到胸腔。
双手叉腰时，能感觉横膈膜附近的肌肉在参与工作。
老师在课上时，一直让我亲手去触摸她唱歌时相关肌肉的位置。虽然还挺害羞，但不然很多感觉根本无法理解。
这是一种很难通过语言传递的东西。
这几节课，我一直在感受一些和直觉相反的事情。
- 唱歌其实不用嗓子。
- 唱的时候，要有一种往里吸气的感觉。
- 音调越高的时候，气流的位置反而越低。
- 听众感受到的字正腔圆，唱的时候其实更强调音节的尾韵。
等等等等。
当这个状态找到以后，再把同样的位置换成“啊”。
例如唱“花”。
其实不是一个完整的“花”。
更像是一个非常短促的 h，后面“a”的尾韵才是持续最久的声音。
像这样：
h-ah——
力量主要在后面。
听起来声音会比较有穿透力。
但自己的感觉却完全相反。
嗓子没有用力。
口腔非常放松。
脸上保持微笑。
眼睛要瞪圆，情绪高涨。
整个气流贯通。
这是老师一直强调的舞台状态。
我越来越觉得，学唱歌最难的部分，不是音高，也不是节奏。
而是这些极其复杂、极其细微，却又很难描述的身体协调。
身体学会它，其实是在和过去几十年的习惯做斗争。
呼吸方式、发声习惯、站姿习惯，全都要重新调整。
经常是记得前面，忘记后面。
吸气对了，发音忘了。
想着横膈膜发力，嗓子又忍不住帮忙。
每一个细微的差别，都会反映在声音上。
今天是第七节课。
终于把《花非花》前三个字唱得像那么回事了。
至少自己能听出一点好听。
那个“en”的声音出来的时候，甚至会有一种感觉：
啊，原来这就是专业的味道。
当然还早得很。
现在还没有加入太多音调和情感表达。
只是努力把声音放在正确的位置。
而且这些细节只要错一点点。
比如气息没有托住。
声音立刻就会漏气、变形、失去支撑。
我原本以为，把唱歌学到 60 分不会太难。
现在发现，可能比我想象中难得多。
因为这里没有捷径。
只能一遍又一遍地重复。
直到某一天，肌肉终于记住。
然后情感才能自由地流出来。
说来也奇怪。
开始认真关注声音以后，很多以前不喜欢的音乐也变了。
以前听民歌，总觉得没什么意思。
现在再听龚琳娜，会觉得：
哇，怎么这么好听。
很多原来听不见的东西，好像突然能听见了。
这几年，我一直在学习一些不太依赖电脑的小技能。
去年学水晶球杂耍。
前年学杂耍棒。
再往前学三球杂耍。
这些技能最大的优点，是几乎不需要什么条件。
甚至什么道具都没有的时候，也能练。
我经常会幻想。
如果未来某一天发生灾难，我还能做些什么？
如果我说我会做游戏特效，至少还需要电脑、电源，以及一大堆软件和工具。
但如果我说我会唱歌。
或者我会扔球。
那几乎随时都能开始。
之前在土耳其旅行时，我随手摘了三个橙子开始抛接。
没想到很快就有不少当地人围过来看。
现在回想起来，还是觉得特别有趣，从来没被那么多外国人鼓掌过。
未来 AI 一定会越来越方便。
很多过去需要专业技能才能完成的事情，以后可能一句话就够了。
反而是这些需要身体亲自参与的技巧。
声音。
节奏。
平衡。
协调。
还有人与人面对面的互动。
大概会变得越来越珍贵。