Character

I've been doing some desk work this morning, and it's my usual custom -- when I'm alone in the office, at least -- to have the internet radio on to keep the voices the internal monologue from getting too distracting.

Plus, I like to sing along.

Depending on the music, of course. I don't generally sing along with the string quartets when I'm in classical music mode.

Anyway.

Today, for whatever reason, I've had a Broadway channel on. They call this particular channel Wide Playlist, which (as you might expect) means it isn't restricted to a particular era, or a particular composer, or a particular genre of musical.

And here I bet you thought musical was a genre.

Well, it is.

But there are different types in the subset, you know.

Anyway.

It's going to be one of those posts, isn't it.

What I've been trying to get around to saying is that I've heard a pretty wide range of songs from a pretty wide range of musicals this morning, and it's caused me to come to a somewhat depressing conclusion.

We apparently don't like voices of character anymore.

It's been horribly easy to tell without even looking when a song has come from an original cast recording or from a revival. And that's not just because I recognise the voices of the original casts, since a lot of the stuff that's been playing isn't all that familiar to me. No, it's because the newer recordings (say in the past twenty years or so. Maybe even thirty) all seem to feature the same voice over and over again. Or maybe two: one male (light tenor, fruity to the point of being occasionally overripe) and one female (light soprano, singing earnestly with an unbearably girlish voice).

It's like casting directors have decided that the public will be put off by having an unfamiliar sound in their ears. Let's find another one who sounds just like the other ones, boys and girls.

Or maybe it's the vocal coaches' fault. Are we teaching our singers not to exploit their natural tones but instead to imitate their favourite nameless Broadway ingenue? I'm beginning to think so, unfortunately. People don't naturally all sound the same, and they shouldn't. The human voice is an amazing instrument and can be astoundingly rich and emotive. Can be. Maybe the sounds I'm hearing in these modern productions come off better live, but in recordings they could all be interchanged with each other and I wouldn't notice.

That bugs me a bit.

Bet you hadn't noticed.

Did you notice, though, how I typed nameless Broadway ingenue up there? That's telling, even though I wasn't really intending it to be. How many of you think we'll actually ever be able to put names to those cookie-cutter voices that we seem to favour onstage these days? I mean, I do realise that Broadway stars in general aren't terribly identifiable now compared to what they were in the 40s, 50s, or 60s (blame the demise of the television variety show, I figure. We don't have an Ed Sullivan to bring these people into our living rooms anymore, and the rare one-number full-cast appearance on Letterman isn't really going to make up for that), but even at that there'll occasionally be a song or two from the latest hit show that makes it onto the airwaves in some way or other.

Can you ever identify who's singing when you hear one of those songs?

Yeah, I thought so.

The earlier stars had marvellously full, rich, identifiable voices. Sure, they weren't always technically perfect (Ethel Merman certainly springs to mind. It was sometimes more blast than finesse with her), but the voices had character. Personality. And not always the type of personality that only made you say hey, that's Extremely Identifiable Big Star singing that part (yeah, Ethel Merman springs to mind there, too). There were plenty of performers who could make their voices fit their roles rather than making their roles fit their voices. But the voices stayed interesting.

I don't think that there are too many interesting voices out there now.

Sad, really.

And if I may point out one specific annoyance (I think I may, yes?), I'm really, really, tired of hearing the females sounding like GIRLS. Come on, ladies. Stop singing in those small, tight tones. Let yourself have at least a tiny bit of chest voice to give it some fullness. Stop whining. And for Whomever's sake, stop singing through your noses.

It's enough to make a person want to stick beans in her ears.

Oh, one more thing before I publish this novel. I said above (somewhere up there. I honestly didn't intend for this rant to go on so long) that it was easy to tell an original cast recording from a revival. There's an interesting exception to that, I've noticed, and it's the West End cast recordings of Broadway revivals. Could it be that over the pond they actually still prefer to employ singers that sound like something worth listening to?

Silly, backwards Brits.






Guess I've got to get myself over there someday.