The
eyes are the window to the soul…
Perhaps a great saying like this abides in our language and
culture because of the truth that it contains—and there is much truth in this
one.
My wife Julie and I were watching Grimm on television last night.
It’s a show about Nick Burkhardt, a detective who can see certain,
unique people as they really are, that is, supernatural witches, werewolves or wildermann.
In the season finale, Nick’s girlfriend Juliette seems to have been changed by
the show’s antagonists for some evil purpose.
How do we know? We know from the
look in her eyes. When they suddenly open as she awakens from a coma, they are
quite different. Solid brown, animal like, pupils missing, her once lovely eyes
tell us now that something is quite wrong with her. She is no longer herself.
Have you ever noticed that there’s an art to looking at
someone in the eyes? Business people
will tell you that a deal can be made or broken—depending upon how skilled the presenter
is at looking into the client’s eyes. If
the presenter doesn’t make enough eye contact and carefully observe the client’s
level of interest, the client may feel slighted, or think perhaps that the
presenter is lying. On the flip side, looking
too long into the eyes of another can be disconcerting. We tend to wonder about the motives of those
who look at us in the eyes for too long.
Singers and groups of singers—such as choirs—need to
understand the power of eye contact.
In a performance class that I was once coaching, a young
woman with a really terrific voice was struggling to connect with the other
members of the class as she sang. She
sang with power, conviction and style, and on a recording, her performance
would have been stunning. Yet, at this
moment in time, we all felt like something was missing.
Finally, someone asked her what she was looking at. She put her head down and answered kind of
sheepishly, “The wall.”
Perplexed, we asked, The wall? Why are you looking at the wall? Why not look at us? She kind of scuffed her feet and answered
quietly, “Because I love the wall.”
The room burst into laughter together with her. We all knew
how she felt. Looking into the eyes of
another is one of the most intimate and sometimes difficult things we humans can
do. We would much rather look at the
wall.
For choirs, the “wall” is the folder of music held in their
hands as they perform. Even though they have looked at that same piece of paper
dozens of times during rehearsal and they know its directions for singing well,
they still look intently at those directions during the times when they are
trying to communicate its truth to those that are listening, that is, the
performance.
We conductors often inadvertently reinforce this wall. How many times have you heard a conductor say
“C’mon people, on measure forty-nine, there’s a rest on beat four, would you
please mark it and observe it? So, when
it comes to the performance of measure forty-nine, beat four—where has the
choir rehearsed its eyes to look? On its
music of course; certainly no one wants
to experience the wrath of a conductor!
Gustavo Dudamel |
So conductors, let’s start with ourselves. How can we get a choir to connect with us—and
then correspondingly with those listening to our performance? Here’s how: When we stand in front of a group,
we must overcome our natural inclination to look down at our music—and—make
every effort to always be looking
into the choir’s eyes, using the printed music as little as possible.
Try this: Take a piece of music that you know by heart,
close the page, move your stand off to the side and then, as you lead, simply
look into the eyes of each individual choir member throughout the entire
piece. Try to “land” your eyes on each
individual once for at least three seconds.
Count how many times you look down at where your music stand usually
is. Or better yet, have a trusted member
of the choir count for you! It’s not easy, but if you want your choir to have
the power of communication that the eyes afford, you must set the example and lead
the way.
The eyes are the window to the soul for instrumental groups
too. Take a look here at the life
Gustavo Dudamel brings out of the Venezuela Youth Orchestra as he conducts
Leonard Bernstein’s Mambo. Notice Dudamel’s eyes. They are always challenging his people—yet
they are also enjoying the life nurturing, mutual experience he shares with them.
Music is a form of communication, and that communication
becomes much deeper and richer when we utilize the windows to the soul, that
is, the eyes. Looking into the eyes of
your group is a skill that you too can learn.
I’ll enumerate some more practical ways as to how to accomplish
this in my next blog, June 10th.
Excellent, Glenn! When eyes meet ... we communicate ... never forget what you are trying to say. As my ancestors from the Emerald Isle used to sing ... "When Irish Eyes are Smiling"
ReplyDeleteLove it... thanks for commenting Bill. The Irish are not full of blarney on this point. One of my favorite books is "How the Irish Saved Civilization" by Thomas Cahill. Here's the Amazon URL:
Deletehttp://www.amazon.com/Irish-Saved-Civilization-Hinges-History/dp/0385418493