On vocal identity
I spend all day, every day thinking about voices, singing and music. I’m a woman obsessed. I’m especially excited when matters pertaining to voices appear in the media. I’m often asked my thoughts on these news articles, so I thought it might be nice to share some with you here.
So, welcome to my first blog post!
Recently, there was an article in the Guardian by Naomi Wolf regarding the matter of vocal fry in young female voices. It’s a fascinating read and it addresses an aspect of voice that isn’t talked about enough in my opinion: vocal identity. Other aspects of identity and how they are perceived by others are regularly analysed and parsed in popular discourse - our weight, our ethnicity, our clothing.
But our voices, just as integral to our sense of self and how we project that into the world, aren’t often considered. And yet, as Ms Wolf articulates in her article, we are judged just as much by the sound of our voice, our inflection, our vocal mannerisms, as we are by the clothes that we wear or the colour of our skin. She goes on to describe how, rightly or wrongly, these vocal traits are perceived by older, mostly male listeners as being “intensely annoying” and “exhausting”.
The article mentions four aspects of “female” vocalisation that are seen as problematic: running-on sentences, being softly spoken, overusing the mannerism of vocal fry and “up-talking” - inflecting sentences with an upward pitch at the end that reads as a question. There is a lot to discuss here, so I’d like to address only one of these “problems” here: vocal fry.
Physiologically, vocal fry results when there is inadequate tension in the vocal folds to produce “true” sound - ie, the folds are able to meet fully and move in a regular vibratory pattern. This lack of tension means that the folds are only occasionally coming into contact, producing little bursts of sound with little possibility for dynamic or pitch variation, and almost no power.
This can be a useful rehabilitative tool when used carefully, but its overuse in the spoken language leads to the perception from the listener that the speaker is overly relaxed, disengaged, or even bored. As I member of the generation Ms Wolf is describing, I know all too well how easy it can be to “camouflage” oneself using what feels like a comforting vocal mannerism. I also know firsthand how it may feel an impossible task to change something that feels so like a part of oneself.
However, it is encouraging to know that our true voices are indeed that. Rather than short, irregular bursts of noise, we can learn how to let the folds close fully and freely, producing a sound that is uniquely and entirely our own. What could be more powerful?