Voice and Piano Lessons

I enjoy teaching singing because I believe the impulse to make music is universal.  Singing, the use of one’s own voice as an expressive instrument, is the most fundamental form of music-making.  Each voice is as personal and unique as our lived experiences and bodies.  The elements that make us who we are combine with breath and attention to produce a sound that is uniquely ours.  

The act of singing is distinct from playing instruments in the sense that the instrument is not fixed but dynamically formed in the very moment of sound production. The conditions of breath, posture, and resonance must align to “tune” the instrument/body, making singing a continual act of creation as well as expression.

Learning to sing is essentially learning to breathe, to understand the dynamic between breath and body.  Because the body itself is the instrument, singing requires a conversation between intellect and felt sensation, a state of clear intention and receptivity.  The process is self-confrontational by nature, one that requires a great deal of self-awareness, self-acceptance, curiosity, and patience.  

What matters most is the aliveness of the art form, its continual invitation to grow, and its requirement that we meet the present moment on its own terms.

Voices suffer a great deal of abuse in the prevailing institutional structures and within many teacher–student dynamics. The voice itself is often at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to ‘authority’. My approach seeks to flip this dysfunctional hierarchy, placing the voice itself in its rightful position.

We, you and I, are here to serve the voice, to help it develop into its most authentic and refined form. The voice tells us what it needs, and it is our job to respond accordingly.  This requires deep, unbiased listening.  

The inheritance of tradition looms large in opera, and rightly so, but it can also prevent singers from ever truly claiming their uniqueness—allowing the voice to sing according to its own design. Good singing has never been about imitation; it is about discovering and refining what is already there. Fach, range, and facility reveal themselves over time, when the fundamentals of singing are practiced with discipline and consistency.

I’ve had many teachers in my life, some of whom led me astray, while others unlocked possibilities I never imagined were accessible. A good teacher creates a container that facilitates self-discovery—guiding with feedback while allowing the voice and body to lead naturally. It is an ongoing conversation: working with new ideas and techniques, observing the body’s response, the voice’s response, what is unlocked, what shifts as a result. The work of singing is never complete; it is a path that continually unfolds.  

My approach is very practical and rooted in the bel canto tradition.  I am deeply influenced by my teacher Michelle Wegwart, an expert clinician.  With her guidance, I recovered from nearly losing my voice — an experience that, though difficult, has left me with invaluable wisdom.  

Singing is the joy of my life, and I am grateful every day I can do it. Opera and the human voice have the power to express and transmute emotion, to connect us to ourselves and to one another—through sound, and through timeless stories that speak to the human condition. Neither indulgence nor living museum, this art form is an antidote to the world’s misery: a wellspring for the human spirit.