Teaching Philosophy

My teaching is grounded in a simple conviction: singing is more than the production of a beautiful sound. Singing is communication through a living body. A singer must understand breath, resonance, registration, diction, style, and musicianship, but none of those things matter much if they do not help the student say something clearly and honestly. In my studio, technique is never separate from expression. Technique gives a singer the freedom to healthily communicate with clarity and consistency. 

My work as a performer has strongly shaped the way I teach. I have worked in opera, operetta, musical theatre, choral music, and church music, and each of those settings asks something different of the singer. Mozart does not ask the same thing as Oklahoma! or Beauty and the Beast. A Gilbert and Sullivan role does not behave like Carmen, and an art song recital does not demand the same kind of presence as a musical theatre audition. But across all those settings, the singer still must maintain healthy vocal function while understanding the text, responding to other people, and making choices that can be sustained under pressure. That is the kind of singing I try to teach. 

Because I have worked in both classical and musical theatre spaces, I care deeply about helping students become stylistically flexible without becoming careless. Style matters, and so does vocal health. I do not want a student singing Mozart with musical theatre habits, and I do not want a student singing musical theatre as if speech, immediacy, and dramatic specificity are somehow less important than “serious” vocalism. I want students to understand what a style asks of them and then find a way to meet that demand honestly, efficiently, and with their own instrument. 

In lessons, I try to make technical work concrete. If a student is struggling with a phrase, I do not want to stop at “support more” or “relax.” Those words may be well-intentioned, but they are often too vague to help. Instead, I want the student to learn what is actually happening. Is the breath disorganized before the phrase begins? Is the vowel spreading as the line ascends? Is the student adding weight because they think the sound should be bigger? Is the registration unstable because the repertoire is asking for something the voice has not yet learned how to do? These questions give the student a way forward. They also teach the student how to practice when I am not in the room. 

Repertoire is where many of these ideas become practical. I choose songs and arias not only because they fit a student in the moment, but because they give us something specific to work on. One piece may help a student find a more efficient approach to breath and phrasing. Another may reveal tension around the passaggio or a habit of pushing for a bigger sound than the voice can sustain. I want students to understand why they are singing a piece at a particular stage of development, not just whether it is impressive or technically permissible. Good repertoire gives students a musical reason to solve technical problems. 

I am interested in voice classification, including the challenges faced by high baritones and other singers whose voices do not fall neatly into easy categories, but I do not see that issue as limited to one Fach. Every voice type can be misunderstood if a teacher listens only for range or timbre. A student may have high notes without being ready for high tessitura. Another may have low notes without the maturity or timbral weight for heavier literature. My role is not to force a category too early. My role is to provide the technique, time, and repertoire that allow the voice to reveal itself gradually. 

I also teach from the point of view of an actor. Text and character are not accessories added after the notes are learned. They belong in the work from the beginning. In art song, I want students to understand what the poem is doing, how the language moves, and why a phrase is shaped the way it is. In opera, I want them to understand relationship, status, dramatic circumstance, and what changes over the course of a scene. In musical theatre, I want them to pay attention to speech rhythm, style, urgency, and the physical life of the character. A technically polished performance that communicates very little is not enough. 

I also care about the practical parts of being a singer. Students need help choosing audition material, marking scores, communicating with pianists, preparing cuts, managing nerves, and understanding what a room is asking of them. These skills are not separate from voice teaching. They are part of learning how to function professionally and how to participate meaningfully in musical communities. A singer who can sing well but cannot prepare clearly, collaborate respectfully, or choose appropriate repertoire is not fully prepared. 

My teaching experience has included applied voice, class voice, musical theatre group classes, audition preparation, vocology, and music theory. I have worked with students preparing for juries, recitals, auditions, productions, and personal artistic growth. Some students are pursuing performance careers. Others are music education majors, church musicians, conductors, actors, or non-majors who simply want to understand their voices better. I believe all of them deserve serious teaching. That does not mean teaching every student the same way. It means listening carefully, setting realistic expectations, and giving each student tools they can practically use. 

I try to build a studio that is supportive, honest, and focused. Singing is personal, and the studio can be a vulnerable place. Students bring their bodies, habits, ambitions, insecurities, and prior training into the room. I want them to know that they are safe enough to try, fail, ask questions, and take risks. At the same time, I believe students deserve honest feedback. Encouragement matters, but encouragement without honesty does not help anyone grow. I aim to be direct, specific, and kind. 

Ultimately, I want students to leave my teaching with more than a better voice. I want them to leave with better habits, sharper ears, stronger preparation skills, and a clearer sense of themselves as artists. Some will go on to perform professionally, and some will teach, lead choirs, work in churches. Whatever path they take, I want them to understand that vocal study is not just about chasing high notes or major roles. It is about learning how to listen, how to practice, how to collaborate, and how to communicate with honesty and skill.