When I was recording the lead vocal for Use Me on Wayne Wallace's previous record, after a particularly grueling passage, he asked if I owned a tuner. As most of our conversations do, this one followed the classic question-and-question format:
"Do you own a tuner?"
"Why?" I asked back.
"Do you own a tuner?" he repeated.
"Why would I own a tuner?"
"Do you own a tuner?"
"No, why?"
"Because you were sharp on all the high notes just now."
"Oh," I said, crestfallen.
"Have you tried practicing with a tuner?" he asked.
"No."
"You should."
As is often the case, I was offended. My intonation has always been a point of pride, and not something I had to think too much about. However, as the demands of studio singing with expressive dynamics, over complex arrangements and in competition with noisy horns increase, I have found that my recorded pitch is anything but perfect. Further, listening to live recordings of myself is often quite painful as I hear deviations that I was unaware of in the moment. Some of it has to do with a far more refined ear and an increasingly critical superego. But the rest is technique.
Thus far, the most I've found when reading about pitch for singers is suggestions to maintain breath support. And through personal experience, I've learned that practicing tricky intervals or passages definitely imparts a sort of muscle memory. It's crucial to hear the note in context, too, especially if it's against a difficult chord or harmony.
But in reading instrumentalists' blogs, I'm finding that Wayne's suggestion may have merit for singers. A recent discussion on saxophonist David Valdez's blog, Casa Valdez,
discusses charting one's pitch to a tuner:After you've completed your intonation graph you'll be able to make better decisions about what you need to change to play in tune. You may find that you need to be more aware of certain notes and lip them down or vent keys to bring them up. You may decide that more drastic measures are needed, like changing the key height regulation or building up the insides of tone holes. Once you see how bad your intonation is you may even decide to trade in your horn for something that plays in tune better, or trade it in for an auto-harp or an ocarina if it looks too hopeless.
Seriously though, you can't spend too much time dialing in your intonation, plotting it out like this can help to clarify what's going on. This information may not be all that pleasant to learn, but it's better to face the hard facts -- YOU SUCK! Just kidding, though that's how I felt after I bought my virtual strobe tuner.
Even more valuable to me is this essay by flautist Alexa Still, "
Playing in Tune and Perfect Pitch." She writes, "One of the things that really bugs me when I listen back to myself playing is the pitch problems that I can perceive. So, why didn't I hear it at the time? The only light I can shed on this is that one gets better at it, and more discriminating with time and effort. I think I hear better and better. Too bad I didn't work on it more thoroughly and sooner!" How reassuring!
Like Wayne and David, Alexa recommends working with a tuner. Here's her precise advice:
Personally, I rely on taping myself, using a tuner to watch for the needle moving on a note when I change the dynamic, and listening as critically as possible to pitch when I'm playing, ALL THE TIME, no matter what it is. I also play notes against a piano, holding the sustaining pedal and listening for the intervals or even just resonance from the piano's strings. I set my tuner to sound through a passage I play, to hear the intervals. I often play around the passage, adding arpeggios and octaves in an attempt to gain perspective and avoid my intervals getting too small. Arnold Jacobs suggested listening back to the tape and watching a tuner while listening, to really absorb where the problems lie. This is also a good way to check if I am compromising on the music to avoid pitch hassles. Sometimes we have to, but I want to be aware!
She goes on to discuss changes in embouchure and air flow to correct flat or sharp tendencies. I will have to give some thought to what I do to raise a note. In general I've always felt that my being sharp meant I could not hear myself well enough, whereas being flat was a question of lack of support. I often smile more and open my mouth wider in order to brighten the sound if I'm fighting a tendency to be flat in a particular passage. Another challenge in the studio is to attack the first note of a passage at the center of its pitch, rather than swooping up or down to it. To me, that's another muscle memory exercise, similar to interval work.
I don't yet own a tuner and I rarely record myself. I guess it's time to change that.
