Broken Open: Adam Lambert; The Agony and Ecstasy of Singing

There is a case to be made for the fact that each of us is born with innate abilities, which when honed, transform us into experts, at best, in our fields of interest, and competents, otherwise. Our absorbing interests often also turn out to be what we feel most passionate about. Thus athletes, writers, painters, lawyers, doctors, teachers, etc., are all examples of people who may have perfected their skills in the area of their greatest interest and passion.

Singers are no different. As a singer myself, I absolutely believe that singers are born that way. Our connection to our voice generally manifests itself in an overpowering urge to sing, usually from a very young age, and it drives us relentlessly on to develop our skills and to find the repertoire best suited to our instrument.

Adam Lambert is a perfect example of a born singer. Not only was he born with an exceptional instrument, he started working on it from a very young age. On his site, NegativeNeil.com, his brother, Neil, talks hilariously about siblings, and how annoying it was for him as a youngster having to listen to Adam wildly improvising over songs on the radio all day long. Neil thought Adam was just showing off. As a non-singer he would not have understood Adam’s need to do that. Neil goes on to say that he understands it now, though.

But for singers, this yearning to sing is typically so intense, that we feel as though we have almost no choice in the matter; that singing has in fact chosen us, not the other way around, and we must heed its call, or suffer excruciatingly. The necessity to sing is more than a passion: it is a need so strong, that if ignored, causes actual physical pain, but one for which there is no painkillers, because the pain is emotional and spiritual, but sits, nevertheless, in our physical body, alongside our voice.

During an online conversation with Juneau, she asked what I would like to write about and I mentioned that I wanted to write on this topic – the uncontrollable, inexplicable urge that singers have to sing and what happens when we ignore this overwhelming desire. “Oh,” she said, “is it like the uncontrollable, inexplicable urge we have to spend our days on the computer trying to find all things Adam?” I had to laugh. But she has a point: it is somewhat similar, and something we can all relate to, right? Now multiply the Adam urge by about a thousand times and you’ll get the idea of what it feels like to need to sing.

One of my own singing teachers, a world-renowned operatic tenor, used to say that the call from our voice to sing is like an incurable disease and the only relief we’ll feel, is in those few moments when we’re actually singing. Perhaps that’s what Adam is like for us? He is our incurable disease and the only relief we’ll feel is to have him in our lives as much as we can. And the only way we can do that is by looking at him, listening to him, and by knowing that he‘s there, that he is continuing to shine his magical essence into all our hearts. And therefore, he would need to continue to sing for us – and also for himself. My old singing teacher used to say, too, that you can hear a person’s soul through their voice, and if that is true, then Adam’s soul is beyond beautiful!

Of course we know that Adam is a magnificent, highly skilled, extremely intelligent, versatile, uninhibited, utterly fearless performer, that he is uniquely talented and enormously creative, that he is physically and spiritually unearthly beautiful, and that he is one of the most charming, charismatic, courageous and sensual humans ever to walk this earth, but for me, his astonishing vocal instrument is the thing I cannot get enough of. When I hear his voice, I find myself utterly captivated: I have to stop what I’m doing and give his voice my full attention – I never dare listen to his CD in the car! I experience his voice like a sound bath: it washes through every fibre of my being, and it feels as though the harmonics and frequencies in his voice massages all of me, right down to the very smallest quark that makes up my physical body, and right down to the tiniest wisp that makes up my soul. I have never had that experience when listening to any other voice before – I’ve listened to some pretty good ones and have had the privilege to be very close to some of the most beautiful and renowned voices in the world today, and I remain astonished by the effect Adam‘s voice has on me.

But because we all have a voice, even without consciously using it as the musical instrument that it is, we can all relate especially to the music of singers’ voices, which is the reason why, when listening to an instrumental piece, if a singer starts to sing, especially a good one, our attention shifts immediately, completely and entirely to the singer’s voice.

For singers, the importance of our voice is doubly real, because we’re continually aware of the fact that even as we carry our precious instrument within our bodies, our connection to it is a physical, emotional, spiritual and sensual certainty. But because the voice exposes so much of who we really are, even singers often find it difficult to allow themselves complete connection to it in front of an audience. I guess we all want to hide our real, vulnerable selves from the prying, possibly judgemental eyes of others. And yet, we still cannot deny the voice’s demand that we sing, because the pain associated with not singing when you have been chosen to do so, is unbearable.

Apparently all singers at some point in their careers, experience this pain associated with the voice. Some find it intolerable and seek to numb themselves into believing that they weren’t any good in the first place, so they attempt to bury their singing voice, and instead choose some other way to fill their days – this is never a good idea; the voice’s call will find you eventually! Others go through the pain barrier and the experience shows up in their voice’s timbre and tone as beauty, sensitivity, depth, strength, openness and passion. Does this sound like someone we all know?

With what knowledge I have accumulated of voices, having sung professionally for more years than I care to remember, and periodically also having taught singing and voice for over twenty-five years, I feel some of the reason that Adam’s voice is so exceptional in its elegance and exquisiteness, is that he too, had to have gone through the pain barrier, related, at some level, with the feeling of coming to a dead-end in singing. Of course, Adam has experienced other kinds of pain in his life: that too, is obvious in the sound and texture of his voice, because as unfortunate and distressing as these experiences are, they enhance the voice of a singer. I may be wrong, but it feels as though the anguish he most likely would have experienced at some point, may perhaps have been associated with a frustration at not being able to ‘fly’ with his voice, at not being able to sing to his fullest capability, and perhaps at not being given the opportunity to push against the limits of his instrument, something which all singers want to do, and which, usually, together with the search for the right repertoire, becomes the cause of a vocal crisis. Adam has mentioned several times his incomprehension at not being promoted to the male lead role in Wicked, for example, and this, no doubt, would have added to his frustration and would have brought about that kind of crisis for the voice. But although clearly agonizing for him at the time, I for one, am very happy that it all worked out this way; not just for us, but for him, too. This is just the beginning: he has only just found his feet – I’m out-of-my-skin excited to witness the ‘flying’ when he’s ready!

When we experience a singer like Adam, who has not only given himself permission to connect to his own voice on every level, but who is also further exceptionally courageous by being as vulnerable as anyone can be, giving of himself one hundred percent each time he performs, the experience for the audience becomes an overwhelming one at the deepest levels of truth and authenticity. And because he makes it looks so easy, we feel we too, can do what he does. That, however, is his artistry. And so for those moments that we watch him, we become him, and we too, experience our uninhibited, free selves, not thinking or worrying about what others think of us – he makes it safe for us. And through that, he heals us; he heals our broken dreams, our broken, wounded selves, our neglected selves, and our limited selves.

There are very few singers in the world today, though, who have given themselves permission to do what Adam is doing and to be that vulnerable. One, who readily springs to mind, is the Spanish tenor, Placido Domingo, another incredible singer, an innovative, fearless artist, and a beautiful human being. Quite a coincidence that he, too, like Adam, is an Aquarian.

Listen to his amazing rendition of the well-known Puccini aria, Nessun Dorma, from the opera, Turandot:

Of course Adam has worked hard on his vocal instrument to be able to produce the wonderful sounds that he makes, to be able to sing so many concerts in a row, to be able to communicate so emotionally and uniquely with his audience, but what makes his voice, in particular, so astonishing, I feel, is this: Adam has complete understanding of his voice as a musical instrument. He uses pure classical techniques for breathing and to support his voice, something which he has undoubtedly perfected over years, so that he plays his voice much like a concert pianist or violinist would play the piano or the violin. Of course he borrows and uses many skills from different styles and genres of singing – even in this, he is inclusive! – but he is very clever in that the core techniques which support his voice so perfectly, remain the classical ones.

When listening to music that affects us deeply, we are not usually aware of the techniques involved, because we are transported by the music itself. Adam clearly appreciates that his voice has this power, too. He recognizes that what make his voice sound like music are the long unbroken lines (legato lines) that he sings, on elongated open vowel sounds, which is already difficult enough to master. But what makes him so astonishing and absolutely unique in today’s pop music industry, is that he sings with an opera singer’s technique, in that he sings not only these long lines in the music, he does so also with the lyrics, tying one word to the next, whilst still having absolute clarity of diction and tone. This is a very difficult skill to learn, even for operatic singers, many of whom can do one but not the other and if they do both, you can’t understand what they’re singing. It is a further testament to Adam’s understanding of the music of his voice, and of his dedication to his instrument. And it is this, primarily, which makes us, the audience, experience the ‘wall of sound’ effect he presents to us, and that’s why often, it seems as though he doesn’t need any accompaniment; that his voice is music enough on its own – which it is!

A singer, no longer with us unfortunately, who, in my opinion, comes closest to demonstrating with his voice exactly what Adam does in terms of the legato line, is Jussi Bjorling, a Swedish tenor. (Freakishly, he was another Aquarian! I didn’t know this until I researched his birthday on Wikipedia!)

Here he sings one of my favourite arias: Una furtiva lagrima, from the opera L’elisir D’amore by Donizetti

You’ll see what I mean about Adam’s use of legato lines if you now listen to him singing Broken Open (or indeed any of his other songs – even the up-tempo ones!)

The reason I like this one, specifically, is that it’s very acoustic with just the guitar, and although the sound quality isn’t so great, Adam’s voice is completely warm in this one, and also, because he has by now been singing it in a few shows, it sits better in his voice. His voice has taken on a different, more depth-full tone, and in this particular version, his legato lines are completely perfect.

To demonstrate the influence our own voice has over us, including for non-singers, we may look at those times when we’ve lost our voice – maybe through laryngitis or because we’ve screamed ourselves hoarse at a sports event or at a rock concert – maybe even at one of Adam’s shows? The next few days, whilst our voice is recovering, we’ll have that surreal ‘loss of self’ experience that comes when people seem not to ‘see’ us as we’re unable to voice ourselves to the world. This is a big clue as to how much of our identity, of ‘us’, is tied up with our voice and that goes for everyone, not only for singers. And it should go a long way to help us appreciate precisely how magnificent, how generous, and how courageous Adam is in giving us so much of his voice and so much of himself – it truly is not as easy as he makes it look. He really is ‘Broken Open’ every time he gives us his gifts.

I think the lyrics to the song, Broken Open, tells us a lot about Adam‘s voice.

Broken pieces, break into me
So imperfectly what you should be
I don’t want you to go, don’t want to see you back out in the cold
Air you breathing out fades you to grey
Don’t run away, find me

I know the battles of chasing the shadows
Of who you wanna be
It doesn’t matter, go on and shatter
I’m all you need

Broken pieces, break into me
So imperfectly what you should be
Lay here it’s safe here, I’ll let you be broken open
Hide here, confide here, so we can be broken open

Let’s enlighten the night
We can fall away, slip out of sight
When you drop your guard, melt into time
So intertwined, quiet

I know the battles of chasing the shadows
Of who you wanna be
It doesn’t matter, go on and shatter
I’m all you need

Broken pieces, break into me
So imperfectly what you should be
Lay here it’s safe here, I’ll let you be broken open
Hide here, confide here, so we can be broken open