I don’t want to be somebody who stands still and sings pretty. Each song is a world. Each song is a story. I don’t achieve nearly what I want.
I learned so many roles so quickly as a young singer, I thought it was time to come back to them and make them better – deeper, more nuanced.
Among the important realizations I had in my own days in the practice room was that if any one route to any one phrase didn’t work after days of trying, then the exact opposite route should at least be explored, as well as every alternative in between, as counterintuitive as that often seemed.
I’ve spent hours and hours doing research into Appalachian folk music. My grandfather was a fiddler. There is something very immediate, very simple and emotional, about that music.
I have had a very difficult time with stage fright; it undermines your well-being and peace of mind, and it can also threaten your livelihood.
It is our responsibility to learn how to speak to an audience that is less informed about music, to give it a reason to want to come and see us instead of going to the movies.
So much can be gained from watching other singers, seeing what they do and what they don’t do, seeing how they look when they breathe, how wide they open their mouths for a high note.
I want to keep my voice young, with nothing heavy.
I listen to archival and historic recordings. I love watching singers. I learned a lot from watching videos.
A lot of bad behavior in singers is caused by nerves.
I don’t like to sing loud.
I cannot imagine a more satisfying calling than my own: beauty, humanity, and history every day, combined with the cathartic joy of singing.