A Comparative Study of Classical and Contemporary Commercial Vocal Pedagogies A thesis submitted to the School of Arts, University of the Witwatersrand in fulfilment of the requirements for a Master of Music in Research and Creative Work Ms. Megan Nicole Cox Student Number: 2289009 April 2021 Ethics Clearance: HRECNMW20/09/02 Declaration I declare that this thesis is my own, unaided work. It is being submitted in fulfillment of the degree of Master of Music at the University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg. It has not been submitted before for any degree or examination at any other University. _______________________________________ (Signature of candidate) _____________________________ _______________________________ (Date) (Location) Megan Cox 10 March 2022 Megan Cox Parkhurst, Randburg Abstract This study analyses the emerging discourses present in classical and contemporary commercial music (CCM) vocal pedagogy texts. It inquires into how these discourses manifest with regards to the vocal techniques of registration, vocal colour, and vibrato. The methodology involved identifying key words and phrases, interpreting them through the devices of situated meanings and cultural models, and placing them in a larger social structure through historical and intertextual context. The emergent discourses among classical pedagogy texts reflect themes of racial and gender bias, pathologising and othering CCM techniques and singers, recommending a bodiless tone, and revering the golden age of bel canto. The emergent discourses among CCM pedagogy texts reflect themes of commercialism, anti-institutionalism, and omnivory. Overall, this suggests that the discourses driving these fields are not unrelated, but rather reflections of each other. To Mr. Glenn LeClair 1955 - 2003 Who taught me how to believe in my abilities, to find self-discipline, and to gain the courage to face my audience. Acknowledgements First of all, my deepest gratitude extends to Dr. Donato Somma, my academic supervisor, who helped guide this research in a way that was kind, intentional, and thorough. Dr. Somma helped me maintain focus and positivity throughout the entire process, and truly made this a positive and unforgettable experience. Secondly, I would like to acknowledge my creative supervisor, Dr. Jonathan Crossley, who continually motivated my work, and helped to bring out the best parts of my creative self. Whenever I felt unsure, his enthusiasm and reassurance guided me towards new levels of inspiration and confidence in my abilities. It was such an incredible joy to take voice lessons again! Eugenie Chopin consistently went above and beyond, stepping up to be the mentor I needed for years. Her dedication to her students is palpable, and her gift for communication and bringing music forth from her students is unrivaled. Likewise, Malie Kelly helped me to sing and express music in a way I never had. Her passion for authentic performance shines through to all of her students, and her zest for life is absolutely contagious. These two beautiful souls contributed such richness to my life over the past two years, for which I am deeply grateful. I would like to thank Lené Kraft, who truly helped this thesis shine in the editing process. Coming from America, I had much to learn about expected spellings and punctuations, and her gentle guidance helped bring this work to the next level. To my family and friends, who have always been so incredibly supportive of wildest dreams and ambitions. You help me to be completely, unabashedly me, and I thank you for your unending support. And lastly, to Gareth, who has been by my side through it all. Your constant pep-talks have kept my spirits up more times than I can count, and your belief in my ability to be constantly better, stronger, and more capable has helped me become my very best self. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Table of Contents Introduction 1 The Lived Experience of being a ‘Pop Singer’ - Discourse in Action 1 The Classical/CCM Divide 3 Aim 4 The Texts Chosen for this Study 5 Rationale 7 Unequal Footing: The Evolution of CCM Pedagogy 7 The Importance of Discourse Analysis 8 Literature 9 Comparative Vocal Pedagogy Reviews 10 Notable Discourse Analyses 12 Methods 15 The Analysis of Discourse 15 Situated Meanings and Cultural Models 17 Discourse Analysis Method 19 The Structure of This Study 20 Registration 21 The Definition and Classifications of Vocal Registers 21 Classical Pedagogy Texts and Registration 24 Common Research Cited in Classical Pedagogy Texts 24 Real-Life Effects - A Discourse of the Fallible Scientist 26 McKinney’s Preference for ‘Modal Voice’ - A Discourse of Pathology 27 McKinney’s Distaste for the Falsetto Register - Gender Bias and Othering 28 ‘Is the Female Capable of Producing a Falsetto?’ - Gender Bias Part II 32 ‘Reversing the Usual Procedure’ - A Discourse of Racial Bias 33 ‘The Direct Lineal Descents of Bel Canto’ - The Golden Age and Bodilessness 35 CCM Pedagogy Texts and Registration 36 Mix Voice and Register Blending - A Discourse of The Magic Pill 37 What is in a Name? - A Discourse of Commercialism 39 Vocal Colour 42 Resonance Versus Timbre 42 The Paradox of Timbre 43 Classical Pedagogy Texts and Vocal Colour 45 The Chiaroscuro Timbre 45 ‘Drawn to That Which is Truly Beautiful’ - Talent, Class, and the Body 46 Undesirable Vocal Colours - Bodilessness & Racial Bias, Part II 47 Singing in ‘Strict Conformity with Nature’ - Racial Bias, Part III 50 CCM Vocal Pedagogy Texts and Vocal Colour 52 The CCM Singer’s Timbre - A Discourse of Variability and Controllability 52 Bias Awareness - A Discourse of Omnivory 54 CCM and the Classical Institution - A Discourse of Anti-Establishment 56 Vibrato 59 The History of Vibrato Research 59 The Physiology of Vibrato 60 Different Styles of Vibrato 61 The Perception of Vibrato and Sonance 62 The Relationship of Straight Tone to Vibrato 62 Classical Pedagogy Texts and Vibrato 63 Vibrato is Essential - A Discourse of The Natural 64 Vibrato is Artistic - A Discourse of Othering (Part II) 66 CCM Pedagogy Texts and Vibrato 68 Different Styles of Vibrato, Past and Present - Omnivory, Part II 69 Vibrato Can and Must be Taught - A Discourse of Class via ‘The Underdog’ 70 Vibrato as an Asset - A Discourse of Commercialism, Part II 71 Vibrato as Function Versus Vibrato as Effect 71 Conclusion 73 Review of Discourses Identified in Classical Texts 73 Review of Discourses Identified in CCM Texts 74 Emergent Themes 75 The Implications of this Study 76 1 Introduction The Lived Experience of being a ‘Pop Singer’ – Discourse in Action I am a singer of both classical and contemporary commercial music, a multi-instrumentalist, and a composer. While these designations are rather straight-forward on the surface, identifying myself as any one of these things often proves to be somewhat fraught. When I identify myself as a contemporary singer, I am aware that classical musicians might assume I lack in foundational or theoretical knowledge. When I identify myself as a classical singer, I may get pigeon-holed into a category that does not fully consider my wide skillset of genre flexibility. Identifying as an instrumentalist or composer, I realise that singers might think I am disconnected from the emotional practice of performing and interpreting music. Despite this, even though one might be able to slough off the opinions of others, the truth of the matter remains: these thoughts, views, and biases have real-life effects. These thought patterns illuminate the discourses surrounding musical categorisations. Discourse, as defined by Titscher et al. (2000, 26), is “text in context”.  This means that any utterance – spoken or written – carries social meaning outside of its actual physical existence. The context of an utterance likewise contributes significantly to any meaning that might be interpreted. For example, consider the idea of ‘being a pop singer’.  The physical reality of this action is relatively simple; one opens their mouth and, with the power of their lungs, produces a singing tone on certain pitches, in a specific order, stylistically consistent within the genre. However, the discourse surrounding this activity is much more complex. It implies a skill that was procured perhaps outside of standardised musical institutions. It implies performance that might make use of a certain style of dress or might be done at a certain type of venue. You might imagine a ‘pop singer’ having a certain type of marketing or social media savvy. You might even imagine this singer having a sense of self-importance or a shallowness, since their career is invariably tied to their image. Perhaps you have even made an assumption about this person’s general musical knowledge. Did you imagine them being able to play an instrument?  Did you imagine this person having a rich background in classical music, with a depth of music theory knowledge?  Did you imagine that they composed all of the songs they perform? 2 These questions highlight the wider cultural discourse surrounding ‘being a pop singer’, as well as the important fact that no activity lives in a vacuum (Gee 2001, 26). Furthermore, every utterance exists in a world of implied meanings that vary or overlap, depending on who is considering that particular utterance. After all, ‘being a pop singer’ is seen differently by a classical violinist than it is by a session bassist, just as it is seen differently by the conservatory admissions office or the producers of The Voice. Most importantly, these discourses operate in a way that have real-life effects. When I was 18 and deciding on which university I was to attend, I wanted to find an institution at which I could study contemporary commercial music (CCM hereafter), song writing, and performing arts technology. An institution at which I could study voice, piano, and violin, and perform multiple genres of music. This, however, was not a viable option for me in the United States in 2003. The only contemporary programme I was aware of was Berkelee College of Music, whose annual tuition was $20,450, not including room and boarding in a major metropolitan area (SEIU Faculty Forward 2021). My music teachers advised that I instead receive a ‘well-rounded’ education at a state university, that I get a ‘good foundation’ studying classical music, and that I could perform contemporary music afterward if I still wanted. What actually happened was that I attended a programme based entirely on the western-European classical music paradigm. I got an extremely specialised degree that did not consider the fact that I was not only a singer. Worst of all, I graduated without the tools to do what I really wanted to do. I did not know how to effectively perform any genres besides classical. I did not know how to improvise. I did not know how to read a chart. I did not know how to secure gigs, and I did not know how to market myself. In short, I did not know how to have an actual career in singing. I was essentially prepared only for further academic study, or to specialise in a relatively narrow path in the performing arts. The discourses surrounding singing and studying CCM had a real-life effect on many aspects of my undergraduate music education. It influenced the advice of my private music teachers. It influenced my decision of where to study. It presumably influenced the curriculum that was available at my university (since no popular music courses or specialised professors were available). It also influenced the ways in which the university recommended I continue forward with my career, despite my individual interests. 3 The Classical/CCM Divide Pedagogy textbooks, or the academic texts that guide the methodology of teaching any particular discipline, are intended by their very nature to shape the way in which things are taught. This is their purpose. The way in which things are taught then continues to form the base of knowledge of that discipline. In this way, academic pedagogy texts have a way of forming what is perceived as reality (Gee 2001, 12). This exists at the micro level, from teacher to pupil, and also at the macro level, from the institutions to the cultures they inform. Discourses are cyclical. The way in which things are taught informs the general knowledge base, and the knowledge base then influences the way things are taught. Because of this, vocal pedagogy texts are an effective entry point to analyse the discourses surrounding different styles of singing. Let us take a moment to discuss the historic divide between classical and CCM pedagogy. The style of singing which we now call ‘bel canto’ rose to popularity in the mid- to late-1500s in Venice, Italy and its surrounding areas. At first, the practice was exclusive to higher society court performances, and a few celebrated singers rose to prominence in this small community for their feats of virtuosity. The vocal capabilities of these singers made a significant impact on Giulio Caccini, the hugely influential pedagogue and composer whose writings, particularly his preface for Le nuove musiche, “served as the model for generations of later vocal pedagogues” (Stark 2008, 194). Caccini was credited, through these writings and the careers of his many pupils, with having proliferated this style of singing throughout Italy, thus establishing the ‘Old Italian School’ (Stark 2008, 190–197). Many other celebrated pedagogues rose from this tradition, including Tosi, Mancini, Garcia, and Lamperti, whose writings on bel canto continue to influence the methods and pedagogies of today (ibid.). On the contrary, the term CCM – a blanket term which includes all styles of ‘non-classical’ singing – was not coined until the year 2000. It includes multiple genres like pop, rock, jazz, folk, gospel, and blues, each of which has its own complex history. In 2008, the American Academy of Teachers of Singing (AATS) issued a statement calling for the necessity of a “systematic, practical approach to teaching genres including CCM and other nonclassical singing”. The statement recognised that “techniques used for singing other genres ... have neither been clearly defined nor seriously addressed in traditional voice pedagogy texts” (AATS 2008, 7). This statement was seen as the impetus to establish a new field of study: CCM vocal pedagogy. From this brief history we can 4 sense the greenness of CCM pedagogy: an academic field in its infancy, despite the rich and complex histories of the myriad genres it contains. Classical pedagogy has a 450-year lineage compared to CCM, which was only given the green light of ’legitimacy’ 13 years ago.  With these stark differences in mind, there is no doubt that the discourses surrounding these styles of singing will vary quite widely. In the years since the AATS declared CCM to be the next pedagogic frontier, how much headway has been gained? Unfortunately, the physiological complexities that differentiate CCM from classical singing have not been identified in their entirety. Many sources simply identify CCM as a more belt-heavy technique (LeBorgne & Rosenberg 2014; Stark 2008, 85), therefore having a predominantly TA-dominant1 production. One can discern, however, from simply listening to any CCM artist that there is more to the sound than simply developing their chest voice. For example, CCM singers interchangeably use different styles of vibrato or different vocal colours, such as a ’twangy’ or ‘breathy’ quality. Some research has investigated specific contemporary vocal techniques, for example ‘mix voice’ (Young 2018; Castellengo Lamesch & Henrich 2007; Lamesch et al. 2007; Castellengo Chuberre & Heinrich 2004), the development of healthy belting techniques (Sullivan 1989; Jennings 2014; Gerbi 2013), or the resonatory differences between contemporary and classical singing (Sundberg, Thalen & Popeil 2012; Sundberg, Gramming & Lovetri 1993; Bourne & Garnier 2012; Bjorkner et al. 2008; Estill 1988). Despite these gains, the multitude of differences that have organically emerged between the two singing styles have yet to be categorised and, importantly, there has not been much growth in the ‘legitimacy’ of the pedagogies produced, as evidenced by their presence (or lack thereof) in tertiary institutions (LeBorgne & Rosenberg 2014, xi-xiii). Aim In order to further the research into the field of both classical and CCM vocal pedagogy, I will conduct an in-depth comparative discourse analysis between commonly used classical and CCM vocal pedagogy texts with a focus on the vocal techniques that define and differentiate the two styles of singing: registration, vocal colour, and vibrato. For this study, I have chosen three texts from both categories based on their prominence among voice pedagogues and professional 1 ‘TA’ stands for thyro-arytenoid, or the muscle that is primarily involved in the thickening of the vocal folds when singing in the lower register. TA-dominant register is synonymous with ‘chest’ or ‘modal’ register. 5 singers. By conducting an in-depth comparative discourse analysis of these texts, I aim to discern the discourses that are present, both currently and historically, in classical and CCM pedagogy texts. My primary research questions are thus: What are the emerging discourses in classical and CCM vocal pedagogy textbooks?  How have these discourses manifested themselves with regard to how registration, vibrato and vocal colour are addressed?  Lastly, what are the implications for these discourses in the way society, institutions, and musicians themselves view these styles of singing? The Texts Chosen for this Study It is important to note that I was born and raised in America, where I also received my undergraduate education. Because of this, the texts I am most familiar with are North American texts. Likewise, the vast majority of CCM textbooks currently available are written by American pedagogues. Therefore, due to my personal experience as well as the accessible resources, the texts chosen for this study are all American texts. From the category of classical texts, I chose three works that are commonly used in tertiary pedagogy courses. The first text is Dynamics of the Singing Voice, Fourth Edition by Meribeth Bunch (1997). Bunch is a widely published voice scientist who has influenced the field of vocal pedagogy through her writing and research on whole body, holistic approaches to teaching voice (Harrison & O’Bryan eds. 2014, 5). Dynamics of the Singing Voice has been purchased 8.5 times more often than the discipline average since 2015, according to its publisher (Bookmetrix 2019). The second text I chose is The Diagnosis and Correction of Vocal Faults: A manual for teachers of singing and for choir directors by James C. McKinney (2005), who was a vocal professor and choral conductor at Southwestern Seminary (1994). Diagnosis and Correction of Vocal Faults, although originally published in 1994, is still the 167th most popular book purchased on Amazon in the category of voice literature (2019). The third classical text I chose is Bel Canto: Principles and Practices by Cornelius L. Reid (1990). Reid was a pioneering pedagogue who expanded the traditional practice of bel canto into the modernised fields of voice science and performance psychology (Glover 2002). This text, originally published in 1950, resembles the archaic style of the treatises of the Old Italian School. From the category of CCM pedagogy, I chose three reputable texts based on their mention in several books, articles, and publications (Hoch ed. 2018, 134–149, 251–263, 291–295; Harrison & 6 O’Bryan eds. 2014; LeBorgne & Rosenberg 2014, 218–225). Singing for the Stars, authored by Seth Riggs (1992), was a standout option for this study since Riggs’s clients, as of 2019, have received a collective 135 Grammy Awards (Riggs 2019). Although Riggs does not see himself as a voice scientist, his Speech Level Singing™ method has been used both to coach CCM singers as well as to rehabilitate post-operative voices (Wicks 2019). The second text I chose is The Estill Voice Model: Theory and Translation by Kimberly Steinhauer, Mary McDonald Klimek, and Jo Estill (2017). Jo Estill was one of the first voice scientists to study the physiological differences between classical and CCM singing (Estill 1988), and her scientifically proven Estill Voice Training™ method fully expands on her theory of teaching vocal function as the foundation of healthy singing in any genre (Fantini et al. 2016). The third CCM text I chose for this study is Elisabeth Howard’s Sing! The Vocal Power Method (2006). Elisabeth Howard is a self-proclaimed ‘vocal chameleon’ who has performed in many different genres. She is also a successful vocal coach with a star-studded clientele (Howard 2019). The Vocal Power Method is of interest to this study because of the author’s differentiation between multiple styles of vibrato and vocal colours, each of which has its own name, description, array of practical examples, and vocal exercises by which the singer may learn to develop these techniques. Due to their prominence in their perspective disciplines, these texts were chosen in order to fairly and accurately represent the discourses reflected in both classical and CCM vocal pedagogy. Even still, these texts may not exemplify the opinions, experiences, and methods of all classical or CCM voice pedagogues. However, the differences in style, tone, method, content, author experience, and decade between the texts, coupled with the shared themes among them, will hopefully serve as ample evidence to accurately draw conclusions. Lastly, it is important to note that discourse analysis is not a hard science (Gee 2001, 6, 94–96; Said 1979, 11). The data gathered in this study are in the form of patterns and ideas based on keyword analysis, not quantitative data. Therefore, in this process of analysis, I took great care to gather as much data as possible before drawing conclusions. As a researcher, I have been intentional in my attempt to view these texts fairly and accurately; however, I am not without my own opinions, biases, or discourses within which I operate as a classical singer, a CCM singer, an instrumentalist, a composer, an academic, and a consumer of music (Titscher 2000, 164; Said 1979, 11). Thus, it must be noted that discourse analysis can be seen only as a stepping stone, as a brick in the wall of understanding why we do the things we do, why we think the way we think as creatures of our environments, and how discourses affect the way in which we function in the world. 7 Rationale Society and culture are dialectically related to discourse: society and culture are shaped by discourse, and at the same time constitute discourse. Every single instance of language use reproduces or transforms society and culture, including power relations. (Titscher 2000, 146) Unequal Footing: The Evolution of CCM Pedagogy Prior to the term CCM being coined in 2000, the predominant term used for this collection of singing styles was ‘non-classical’ singing. The implication of this terminology was that classical singing was the standard against which all other singing should be judged; that other genres of singing were considered subordinate (LoVetri 2014, 207). This suggests a cultural model in which classical singing is considered ‘legitimate’ while other styles of singing are tacitly deemed less worthy, lumping them all together despite their incredibly varied palate of sounds, vocal techniques, and histories. Furthermore, although classical methods are still the predominant procedures for training the voice, it is no longer the primary career choice. A study conducted in 1997, drawn from US Bureau of Labor and Statistics data, found that out of 23,000 self-identified professional singers in the US, only 3,000 identified as being classical singers. The other 20,000 identified as ‘other’ (Wilson 2003). What’s more, according to a 2016 survey conducted on graduate-level voice teachers, even though 77% are teaching CCM styles, only 26% are specifically trained in any CCM technique (DeSilva 2016, 41–48). In this study, 61% of the teachers surveyed stated that they have learned to teach CCM styles from ‘other sources’, including observing singers or teachers, talking to colleagues, experimentation with singing and teaching, or reading books and articles (51). The conclusion drawn from this study is that the majority of contemporary vocalists are either being taught by classical teachers who have little-to-no CCM training, or they are seeking to learn this style of singing from non-institutional sources (55). This suggests that the theory and practice of singing in today’s western society have diverged: even though a significant portion of professional singers identify as non-classical singers, access to high-level, genre-specific educational resources is greatly limited. Furthermore, even though the institutions are still anchored in the idea that ‘classical is 8 best’, the people entering the field today are moving away from this paradigm and choosing to perform other genres. As previously discussed, western-European classical vocal pedagogy has been constantly evolving (and critiquing) its own past since its genesis in the late sixteenth century (Stark 2008, 216–225). Each of the classical texts profiled in this study look to the past, compare their tenets to archaic hypotheses, and place themselves on the shoulders of their pedagogic forefathers. These pedagogies acknowledge their lineage through a history of faults (people used to believe this), theories (some people believe this), and perceived truths (this is what research suggests today). However, many of those ‘truths’ are either in contention or are ‘proven’ through biased research, only to be dismantled in later decades. This, in fact, can be seen as a discourse in and of itself — that science is fallible, that it is subject to human error and biases. Even still, science evolves over time, as (hopefully) do the texts. Because of this, classical voice pedagogy has slowly unfolded as a practice of critiquing old methods in order to suggest new ones. Through my ample research, I was unable to find a single study that steps back from the standard pedagogic practice of critiquing methods to analyse discourse. There is no single study that inquires into the cultural models that have been tacitly present throughout the centuries of texts, research, and institutions. In fact, there is no discourse analysis of any pedagogy texts in this or any other instrumental discipline. It was even difficult to find literature that was tangentially related enough to be significant to this study. The only studies I could find comparing classical and CCM singing pertained to measurable resonatory differences between genres (Bourne & Garnier 2012; Bjorkner et al. 2008; Estill 1988; Sundberg, Gramming & Lovetri 1993). Nothing even began to discuss the deeper patterns that drive the way that genres are understood, or the way that they function within and are perpetuated by a culture. The Importance of Discourse Analysis Words have the power to create realities. In writing a pedagogic text, the author is taking licence to say what is ‘good singing’ and what is not; what is ‘normal performance practice’ and what is not; which techniques are ‘acceptable’ and which are not; which timbres constitute ‘the way things are’ or ‘the way things ought to be’ and which do not, and the way in which ‘people like us’ rather than ‘people like them’ choose to make music (Gee 2001, 2). These realities are not simply created by the author on a whim; they are based on the practices and texts of the past, whose actors have 9 constructed similar realities, as well as present-day actors who are simultaneously constructing parallel realities. The purpose of discourse analysis, then, is two-fold. Firstly, it is to shed light on the implicit structures that make things ‘the way they are’ to “make human beings aware of the reciprocal influences of language and social structure of which they are normally unaware” (Titscher 2000, 147). Without this light, these structures continue ad infinitum. The second purpose is then to question these implicit structures, and to allow these questions to change the way we view things. Once the power structures that drive institutions are illuminated, those who act in that structure become “morally complicit with harm and injustice unless we attempt to transform them” (Gee 2001, 8). Discourse analysis is then seeking to be a politically involved research methodology, one with an ‘emancipatory requirement’ that aims to have an effect on social and institutional practices (Titscher 2000, 147). This ‘emancipatory’ effect of discourse analysis has real-life effects on organisations and institutions, especially in the realm of prejudice awareness, which has contributed to the rightful evolution of many institutions (i.e. female ministers in the church and increase in Black business executives), and will hopefully continue to do so in other fields. This study therefore aims to use methodological tools of inquiry to discern the discourses that have real-life effects in the fields of classical and CCM vocal pedagogy. These discourses will be illuminated by in-depth analysis of the vocal techniques that separate and define the two styles of singing, therefore marking ‘difference’.  Lastly, this study will seek to identify how these discourses affect the way in which society, institutions, and singers themselves view these styles of singing. While this identification can serve only as a torch illuminating the implicit power structures of centuries-old institutions, perhaps its findings may serve their purpose as ‘emancipatory’ actors in a slowly evolving science. Literature It is important to note that there are no comparative discourse analyses of pedagogy texts, whether vocal or instrumental, within the academic literature. Therefore, in order to build the foundation for this study, I have identified an orbit of literature, relating to the research questions, on which to rest this study. As we will thoroughly discuss in the methods section, effective analysis of discourse is dependent on reading the text through the lens of both its historical and intertextual 10 contexts. Therefore, two categories of literature heavily influenced this analysis. These were comparative historical reviews of pedagogic methods, which gave a basis for the historical context, and other seminal discourse analyses, which helped to guide the analysis of intertextual context. Comparative Vocal Pedagogy Reviews Historical context is the first tool of inquiry that provides significant basis for comparative discourse analysis. Because of this, I found it important to delve into the pedagogic history of the vocal techniques analysed in this study. The two texts that were of immense help were James Stark’s Bel Canto: A History of Vocal Pedagogy (2008) and Wendi LeBorgne and Marci Rosenberg’s The Vocal Athlete (2014). Stark’s Bel Canto is a comparative review of individual bel canto techniques, from their first mention in letters and treatises, through the scientific revolution of vocal pedagogy in the late nineteenth century, into modern understanding and performance practice. On the other hand, The Vocal Athlete extends its pedagogic review into the budding scientific research of CCM. These two texts offered great insight into the ways in which registration, vocal colour, and vibrato have been viewed and taught over the centuries of established vocal pedagogies. Bel Canto became a go-to source for this study since its central method is to trace the lineage, both socially and pedagogically, of individual vocal techniques. Referencing this text not only provided historic context, it also deepened my understanding of the broader social and cultural implications of these techniques. For example, observe the introductory passage for Stark’s chapter discussing vibrato: Throughout the history of vocal pedagogy there have been arguments about [vibrato] … especially in the field of early music where authenticity and historically informed performance are the goals. But those goals are elusive, due to the relative paucity of historical references to vocal tremulousness, the vague descriptions and confused labels used for it, … and of course the varying musical tastes of each historical epoch. (2008, 121) Even in this introduction, we can see that Stark has taken great caution to consider not only the history of any particular technique, but also where it stands with relation to human psychology, current voice science, and performance practice. This passage exemplifies the way in which Stark’s text aims to “seek a rapprochement between historical and scientific views of good singing – that is, to extrapolate backwards in time our current understanding of the physiology, aerodynamics, and acoustics of singing as a means of reinterpreting historical vocal practices” (xi). 11 As an aside, I would be remiss not to mention the ephemeral characteristic of music. Despite the lineage of vocal pedagogies available to be studied, they exist as mediated writings about styles and sounds, centuries past, that can never fully be captured. Even historical recordings are subject to the compression of microphones, or the degradations of the physical materials onto which they were etched. Therefore, even though the research of Stark can greatly inform this text, it is impossible to know exactly what sort of sound was being produced at any given time. The other comparative pedagogic resource that was of great importance to this study was The Vocal Athlete (2014). This text offered insights into relevant CCM vocal techniques and how they relate to the established pedagogies of classical singing. In The Vocal Athlete, LeBorgne and Rosenberg introduce the concept of a new type of singer – the ‘hybrid singer’ – defined as “the vocal athlete who is highly skilled performing in multiple vocal styles possessing a solid vocal technique that is responsive, adaptable, and agile in order to meet demands of current and ever- evolving vocal music industry genres” (xiii). This definition, for me, truly hit the nail on the head of my personal experience, adapting my own performing career from what I had learned in my undergraduate education, and it further shed light on the fact that my experience is not unique. Many other singers have stumbled upon the same challenges and are seeking their own path toward adaptation. Because of its extension into the CCM genres, The Vocal Athlete was of tremendous help where Stark left off. It allowed me to understand the way in which the historical applications of certain vocal techniques have shifted in recent times, not only into CCM vocal stylings, but also with consideration for external influences like the use of the microphone (276–93). For example, consider the way in which LeBorgne and Rosenberg recommend addressing the vocal student who also plays guitar: Many artists who concurrently play guitar lean forward into the microphone, mainly from their neck throwing the vocal instrument out of alignment. Compensation for the lack of laryngeal freedom results in constriction and pushing. Help the client make adjustments to their microphone stand … [and] use YouTube to introduce them to artists that use the microphone as an extension of their instrument. (290) In this passage we can see how The Vocal Athlete combines traditional pedagogic ideas, like using proper alignment to take strain off the vocal mechanism, combined with modern practices like microphone technique. This aspect of the text helped me to fully understand how much CCM pedagogies have evolved in recent years, how they have truly separated themselves from the 12 established norms of classical pedagogies and, consequently, how they should be treated as a genre in their own right. It is important to note that neither Bel Canto nor The Vocal Athlete are pedagogies in and of themselves, but rather reviews of multiple methods of teaching. Their structures, therefore, served as a model for the chapters of this study, which go through the chosen vocal techniques – registration, vocal colour, and vibrato – from past to present. This format allowed me to integrate the themes that arose during analysis into a form that is both logical and chronological. Notable Discourse Analyses The history and significance of discourse analysis as a tool of social inquiry rests on the shoulders of French philosopher Michel Foucault. For Foucault, the term ‘discourse’ was not relegated to conversation, nor to structural aspects of linguistics, but rather to patterns of knowledge and power which were, as he viewed it, inextricably linked (Gutting & Oksala, 2019). Foucault’s primary writings discussed the histories of medicine, ‘madness’, prison systems, and sexuality. Through these analyses he was able to extrapolate silent structures of power that functioned within these systems. His works have had a massive influence on several academic fields, including history, philosophy, psychology, critical theory, and gender studies. Foucault’s writings changed the very way we observe the power structures that silently govern society. His writings helped shift our understanding of power from systems of physical oppression and coercion to systems of knowledge and government. The writings of Foucault were revolutionary in the field of social sciences, as evidenced by the fact that he is still the most frequently cited author in academic research (Kelly, 2021). Most importantly, his writings helped those in the social sciences to understand the power of words; that words are reflective of the systems of power that give them life, and that by examining texts and images, much can be discerned about the systems of power that are in place. As Gee so eloquently writes, “words have histories. They have been in other people’s mouths and on other people’s pens. They have circulated through other discourses and within other institutions. They have been part of specific historical events and episodes” (2001, 54). Words have the ability to construct reality in multiple ways, from naming physical objects to initiating activities, from establishing relationships to solidifying social hierarchies (12). They both reflect the world from which they emanate, as well as solidify this view of reality into the future. 13 Given the social significance that discourse analysis is able to sustain, the second genre of texts that provided great insight into this study was that of notable discourse analyses in the social sciences, specifically Edward Said’s Orientalism (1979) and Stuart Hall’s Representation (2009). These analyses helped me to pinpoint the methodological tools and thought devices that are central to uncovering discourse, as well as important themes that often arise in analysis. The greatest contribution to this study was the realisation that these analyses were focusing primarily on context – both historical and intertextual – in order to form the foundation of their arguments. These texts became not only a model of methodology, but also a source of intertextual context itself. As discussed, a discourse analysis of vocal pedagogy texts does not yet exist. However, I was able to take cues from these texts to form a framework through which I was able to structure this study. The first notable discourse analysis that influenced this study is Edward Said’s Orientalism. This text is seminal in how it analyses the ways in which European culture academically, artistically, and institutionally helped to both “manage and produce” the idea of ‘the Orient’ as a contrast to ‘the Occident’ throughout its history and involvement in the region (1979, 3). As an access point to analysing the discourse of Orientalism, Said studied the power dynamics between the people, politics, and institutions of ‘the Orient’ and the colonial powers of Britain, France, and post-war America through examples of art, literature, and scholarship. According to Said, “ideas, cultures, and histories cannot seriously be understood or studied without their force, or more precisely their configurations of power, also being studied” (5). Similar to the ideologies of Foucault, within these discourse analyses power is not defined simply as an expression of physical force; it is also expressed in other, more subtle ways. According to Hall, “power also involves knowledge, representation, ideas, cultures, leadership and authority, as well as economic constraint and physical coercion” (2009, 263). In other words, the ability to express one’s view about another person, group of people, idea, or institution is in itself a form of power. As Said states: There is nothing mysterious or natural about authority. It is formed, irradiated, disseminated; it is instrumental, it is persuasive; it has status, it establishes canons of taste and value; it is virtually indistinguishable from certain ideas it dignifies as true, and from traditions, perceptions and judgments it forms, transmits, reproduces. Above all, authority can, indeed must, be analyzed. (1979, 19-20) Stuart Hall builds on the precedent of Said in his chapter entitled “The Spectacle of the Other” (2009, 226–279). In this chapter, Hall illuminates the way in which the discourses 14 surrounding People of Colour in magazine images function culturally. Most importantly, he highlights the ways in which, through visual representation of minorities, differences are ‘marked’ and layered, adding up to a ‘spectacle of otherness’ (231). This act of representation produces the idea of the ‘other’ – someone outside of the majority group – who is often distilled to their most notable characteristics and fixed, unchanging, as an objectified example of someone who does not belong, the other (249). Observe the way in which Hall builds the argument and assembles the layers of otherness painted onto Saartje Baartman, otherwise known as ‘The Hottentot Venus’, a woman who was taken to Europe from her homeland in South Africa to be displayed as an example of difference: First, note the preoccupation … with marking ‘difference’. Saartje Baartman became the embodiment of ‘difference’. What’s more, her difference was ‘pathologized’: represented as a pathological form of ‘otherness’... Next, observe her reduction to Nature, the signifier of which was her body. Her body was ‘read’, like a text, for the living evidence—the proof, the Truth—which it provided of her absolute ‘otherness’ and therefore of an irreversible difference between the ‘races’… Further, she became ‘known’, represented and observed through a series of polarized, binary oppositions. ‘Primitive’, not ‘civilized’, she was assimilated to the Natural order …rather than to the Human Culture. (2009, 265-266) In this example, Hall shows how difference is marked, layer by layer, in order to form this ‘spectacle of otherness’.  It was not simply the colour of Saartje Baartman’s skin that set her apart; it was a combination of factors, the multiplicity of ‘differences’ that, added together, allowed Europeans to view her as non-human; to be simultaneously intrigued and repulsed, aroused and disgusted. This layering of otherness created a world of binaries in which Saartje was reduced to simplified characteristics (primitive, sexualised etc.), thus giving cause for her subhuman treatment (266). Hall’s detailed analysis of Saartje Baartman, including his identification and layering of binaries that built this ‘spectacle of otherness’, was heavily influential to this study. Within my own analysis I found similar instances in which authors built their own ‘spectacle of otherness’ by marking difference and producing binaries, thus producing (and re-producing) implicit power structures within the field of vocal pedagogy. This text served as a template for the analysis of power structures, which as previously established, is integral to the analysis of discourse. Orientalism and Representation were seminal in their respective fields for showing the ways in which discourses surrounding systemic issues – for example race, gender, or class – are reflected in the texts that are produced by the majority. Furthermore, these texts show how these implicit 15 power dynamics are present within the systems. While their subject matters differ greatly from this study, both texts bring to the forefront themes that are also embedded within these pedagogy texts, including themes of gender and racial bias, as well as pathologising and othering certain vocal styles or practitioners. These texts served as a great example of not only how to search for implicit meaning within a text, but also how to treat discourse analysis itself. This is done by not simply naming and shaming but also by searching for the historical context that grounds both words and actions in the predominant logic of their time, all while keeping in mind subsequent paradigm shifts that may have exposed and/or balanced archaic power structures.  In the process of this discourse analysis, I have taken cues from both Said and Hall in the importance of viewing the implicit effect of historical power structures. Although many would like to believe that art stands in a vacuum, that it is created purely for art’s sake, the fact remains that individuals who produce art and who author pedagogy texts are only human, subject to their own experiences and biases. Thus, “no production of knowledge in the human sciences can ever ignore or disclaim its author’s involvement as a human subject in his own circumstances” (Said 1979, 11). It is with this very idea in mind that I embarked on this study. Methods This study takes the form of a comparative discourse analysis of classical and CCM vocal pedagogy texts. It is a literature-based study, centred predominantly on secondary sources, in the realm of qualitative research. Qualitative research is defined by Van Maanen as “an umbrella term covering an array of interpretive techniques which seek to describe, decode, translate, and otherwise come to terms with the meaning, not the frequency, of certain more or less naturally occurring phenomena in the social world” (Van Maanen in Merriam & Tisdell 2016, 15). Therefore, any conclusions drawn from this study will be subjective in nature, based on in-depth analysis of the chosen texts, as well as the researcher’s personal experience as a singer of both classical and CCM genres. The Analysis of Discourse According to Titscher, discourse analysis is “the analysis of relationships between concrete language use and the wider social and cultural structures” (2000, 149). The analysis of language 16 and its social and cultural structures is of particular interest to academic research because of the significance language itself holds. Simply stated, “language use is always simultaneously constitutive of (i) social identities, (ii) social relations and (iii) systems of knowledge and beliefs” (Fairclough in Titscher 2000, 149). In short, language functions in a way that simultaneously reflects and produces social dynamics. Recall the discourse definition established earlier, which is simply ‘text in context’. Context, as defined by Gee, is “everything in the material, mental, personal, interactional, social, institutional, cultural, and historical situation in which [an] utterance was made” that could conceivably influence the way it is interpreted by either the producer or receiver, whether intentional or not (2001, 54). With such a vast pool of possible meanings, how does one begin to identify the analytically significant context of an utterance? The answer centres on that which most greatly influences the interpretation of any text: historical and intertextual context (ibid.). Let us begin by looking at historical context. Every act of communication has two parts: the act of the producer and the act of the interpreter. These acts are equally important to the making of meaning. Like the thought experiment of an unobserved tree falling in the woods, without an interpreter, an utterance would be insignificant sound waves in the air, or chicken scratch on a page. Due to this dual nature of communication, the complexity of discourse analysis is revealed since the process of making meaning often occurs over time. Consider a text written 50 years ago. When today’s reader interprets the text, the discourses revealed are not simply based on the experience of the author 50 years prior; they are also contingent on the experience of the present-day reader. The discourses present are influenced, whether intentionally or not, by the knowledge, biases, and lived experiences of both the producer and the receiver of the text, despite the intervening years.  Furthermore, this historical context is not reserved only for the individuals involved in the process of meaning-making; it is also dependent on history at large. The analysis of language is not dissimilar to navigating a field of linguistic landmines, due to the complex social evolution of the meaning of words (Gee 2001, 54). This can be exemplified by the transformation of terms that are no longer considered ‘politically correct’, terms that have evolved over time (and usually rightfully so) to carry negative connotations. As language progresses, any text containing such a term maintains its modern meaning to today’s interpreter, despite the fact that at the time of its authoring, the term did not necessarily carry that derogatory implication, nor did the author 17 necessarily intend the modern meaning of the word. Regardless of the author’s intentions, the modern cultural context changes the way in which the text is interpreted. This brings us to the next aspect of context: intertextuality. Just as any utterance is influenced by the history it carries, any text is likewise “infected with the meanings (at least, as potential) of all the other texts in which its words have comported” (Gee 2001, 54). Texts do not stand alone as testament to the words and ideas they contain; they are “related to those produced before, simultaneously and subsequently, and are only intelligible in terms of the underlying conventions and rules” (Titscher 2000, 148). Therefore, as we can see, the analysis of discourse is incomplete without gaining an understanding of related texts that discuss similar ideas and themes. Without examining both historical and intertextual contexts, any discourse analysis would be missing critical information. Context gives discourse analysis ground on which to stand, and acts as a methodological compass for the researcher. Situated Meanings and Cultural Models An important set of methodological tools for the analysis of discourse are the thought devices of ‘situated meanings’ and ‘cultural models’. Situated meanings can be viewed as a bottom-up approach of thinking, from an individual’s perspective, and cultural models as a top-down approach, or the world view from which a text might find meaning (Gee 2001, 51–52). Situated meanings are variable interpretations of any given idea, depending on the individual and the context. For example, let us take the idea of ‘a singer’s performance’. Consider the way in which this ‘performance’ might be visualised differently from the perspective of an early music chorister (concert black attire, black music folder, church venue) compared to a blues singer (cocktail dress, hand-held microphone, bar venue). These individual situated meanings change depending on who the ‘singer’ is and the context of their particular genre. As a methodological approach, questioning the possible situated meanings that underlie any text can give structure and direction to the analysis of discourse. It is important to inquire into any situated meanings that may be reasonable to attribute to either the author of the text, the intended reader of the text, or any unintended reader of the text (i.e. those coming from different backgrounds). Furthermore, it is important to imagine what possible situated meanings may be attributed to an author’s words, despite the author’s intentions (Gee 2001, 53). 18 Just as language does not live in a vacuum, neither do situated meanings. Situated meanings always exist within larger social structures of meaning-making, called ‘cultural models’. Cultural models are the set of assumed circumstances about the world in which situations occur. They are the ‘taken-for-granted assumptions’ about the ‘reality’ of any given idea, both in form and function (59). Take, for example, the way in which one might consider the word ‘art’. At first, the cultural model that often arises might inspire the image of a museum filled with oil paintings and sculptures. Quickly this cultural model might also allow one to include other disciplines, perhaps exemplified by symphonies, literature, or theatrical works. It is then not a stretch for this cultural model to include more current media, such as film or television. But where does this cultural model begin to break down? What about flat-pack furniture design? A child’s finger painting? A banana duct-taped to a wall? Cultural models are frequently challenged and ever-evolving in the field of music. Consider the troubled history of atonal, 12-tone, serial, and new music. The idea of a critic or concertgoer exclaiming, ‘That isn’t art!’ identifies this cultural model in action. As a tool of inquiry, pinpointing the cultural model within which a text was created (and is interpreted) becomes a powerful method since, by definition, they function in a way to “set up what count[s] as central, typical cases, and what count[s] as marginal, non-typical cases” (59). Within the analysis of any text, it is important to question what the author of the text might have valued or believed in order to write the text the way it appears. Are the emerging cultural models being used to make any value judgments? Within the text, whose interests are being represented? Furthermore, it is important to look beyond the words of the author to the larger systems that may have influenced this cultural model, including past texts, related media, or institutions as a whole. Lastly, one must inquire as to how these cultural models relate to or influence greater social structures, such as historic power dynamics or political relationships (78). Given these examples, it is easy to see how language influences meaning-making in real-life situations. The written language of an educational text creates meaning, and in a sense constructs reality through their influence on the knowledge which is maintained and passed down by future educators. The simple fact that one text can reflect the discourses of the past while simultaneously producing the discourses of today serves as an example of how discourses perpetuate themselves over time. Therefore, analysing the way in which “situations produce and reproduce institutions, 19 and are, in turn, sustained by them” is central to discourse analysis (84). In this way, it is easy to see that pedagogy texts are fully intertwined with the institutions that perpetuate them; in order to gain an understanding of these institutions, it is imperative to analyse the discourses they perpetuate. Discourse Analysis Method The analysis of discourse, according to Titscher, is to be taken in three steps. The first step originates from the level of the text itself, in which one identifies linguistic aspects that are significant to one’s research questions. The second involves an act of interpretation and connection between the text and social practices by using the thought models of situated meanings and cultural models. The third involves viewing emergent themes with relation to larger social structures and explaining these connections within an organisational framework (2000, 150–154). Step one: Identification The first step of discourse analysis involves identifying, at the textual level, key words and concepts that seem significant to the genre of texts one is analysing. This includes not only the chosen vocabulary, but may also include grammar and semantics (Titscher 2000, 150–153; Gee 2001, 97). During this process, key words and phrases are chosen with a focus on the research questions, and significant linguistic elements are dissected and described. Step 2: Interpretation The second step is the interpretation of the text, which forms a connection between the text and social practices (Titscher 2000, 150). In this step, the thought devices of situated meanings and cultural models are employed to consider what the text suggests beyond the literal level. In this step, the researcher considers how “identities, social structures, power dynamics, etc., are being reinforced by the data” and, through this lens, inquires into how linguistic details might be contributing to possible meanings or interpretations (Gee 2001, 97). Through this process, certain themes will begin to emerge. These themes then become the basis of the next methodological step in discourse analysis. 20 Step 3: Explanation In the final step of discourse analysis, the researcher connects the emergent themes to social practice within wider contexts, including the historical, intertextual, institutional, and cultural environments. In this step, issues of hegemony often arise, since “power and ideologies may have an effect on each of the contextual levels” (Titscher 2000, 151). From there, the connections between themes and cultural structures may be organised in a way that illuminates the researcher’s argument, as supported by evidence found in other texts and sources that have undergone the same scrutiny. Gee further suggests that in order for the conclusions of a discourse analysis to be valid, it must achieve ‘convergence’, defined as the way the data connect to support the analysis, which must offer ‘compatible and convincing’ support for the emergent themes (2001, 95). Because of this, the analysis of multiple texts not only aids in accuracy, it is also in fact imperative to gain a comprehensive view of the discourses in play. The Structure of This Study This study is separated into three chapters, centred on the vocal techniques that differentiate and define the two styles of singing: 1) registration, 2) vocal colour, and 3) vibrato. Within each section, there are three sub-categories. The first delves into the history of the vocal technique, the emergent science surrounding the technique, and where it stands with regard to current performance practice in both classical and CCM genres. Secondly, the three classical texts are analysed and presented within categories of emergent discursive themes. Thirdly, the same process of analysis is repeated with the CCM pedagogy texts. Finally, the predominant themes are compared between both genres. This structure aims to paint an accurate portrait of where each technique stands in each field, and how these techniques have helped to form the discourses that contribute to classical and CCM vocal pedagogies as a whole. 21 Registration No other area of vocal instruction is as shrouded with mystery, semantic confusion, and controversy as the subject of registers and registration. (McKinney 1994, 93) To me, as a singer of both classical and CCM music, the role that registers play in each discipline has been a point of both fascination and contention. While the aim of much classical vocal instruction is to erase any audible trace of the registers, CCM vocal stylings sometimes highlight not only the differing timbres, but also the register transition itself. To add to this confusion, there has been little consensus as to what exactly constitutes a vocal register, how many registers there are, whether they function differently in male and female voices, and what they should be named. This confusion is reflected in vast discrepancies of what is presented as fact in vocal pedagogy textbooks. In this chapter, I will discuss the way in which these discrepancies contribute to discourses of both racial and gender bias, as well as situate classical singing on the pedestal of the golden age. This is accomplished primarily through the devices of ‘pathologising’ and ‘othering’.  For the purpose of this study, pathologising is defined as the practice of claiming that a particular technique is wrong or broken, or that it will do harm to the voice. Othering is the practice of contrasting those who belong to the acceptable ‘in-group’ and those who do not. This is achieved by over-simplifying characteristics of those who remain outside of the acceptable group, the ‘others’, often through the use of binary comparisons. The presence of these discourses, as we will see, suggests that these classical pedagogues implicitly view their discipline as superior to other styles of singing. The Definition and Classifications of Vocal Registers: A History of Discrepancies The confusion and inconsistency with which voice pedagogues and scientists have approached registration has been pervasive. Prior to the invention of the laryngoscope in 1827 and the first successful observation of the vocal folds by Manuel Garcia II in the 1840s, the vocal registers could be described only experientially by either the producer or the receiver of the tone; the singer or the listener (Henrich 2006). As a result, the registers acquired colloquial names like voce di petto or voce di testa, the chest voice or the head voice, two corporeal locations in which singers commonly feel resonance sensations. These experiences are contextually bound by the time periods in which they 22 existed; we cannot know exactly what the singers, teachers, or authors of the past experienced while producing any particular sound. However, the prevalence of similar terms in other languages (voix de poitrine/voix de tete; Bruststimme/Kopfstimme) suggests similar aural and kinaesthetic experiences across linguistic and cultural boundaries (Stark 2008, 58–63; Henrich 2006, 3; Steinhauer, McDonald Klimek & Estill 2017, 83; Large 1973, 10). When Garcia first observed the distinct vibratory mechanisms that accompanied differing register timbres, his definition shifted from one of auditory and kinaesthetic experience to one of visual evidence of mechanical principle, an event that changed the way in which the registers would be defined (Stark 2008, 67–73; Henrich 2006, 3). Since then, there have been ongoing discussions as to exactly what constitutes a vocal register and exactly how many operate in the human voice. Is a register simply a laryngeal event – the result of a vibratory mechanism of the vocal folds? Or does the effect of the vocal tract also influence the register, due to its ability to alter what both the listener and the singer perceive as register? (LeBorgne & Rosenberg 2020, 123–124; Henrich 2006, 7–12; Stark 2008, 58, 81-90). The current standard classification of the vocal registers was put forth in 1983. This was determined by an international committee of vocal scientists, coaches, pathologists, and physicians organised by the Collegium Medicorum Theatri (CoMeT) who “formed in an attempt to clarify the notion of vocal registers and to find a consensual position among the international voice community”.  Its findings have since been reproduced and confirmed by means of laryngoscopy, cinematography, electromyography, and electroglottography based on the evidence of transition phenomena. Essentially, the breaks in the voice determine the presence of and boundaries between distinct vibratory mechanisms (Hollien et al., 1983; Henrich 2006). The CoMeT came to the conclusion that there are four distinct laryngeal mechanisms. The mechanism described as the lower register, often called ‘chest’ or ‘modal’, is dominated by the thyro-arytenoid [TA] muscle, also called the vocalis muscle, which comprises the body of the vocal folds. For the purpose of clarification within this study, we will use the term TA-dominant register. The upper register, often called the female ‘head’ or ‘loft’ register or the male ‘falsetto’ register, is dominated by the crico-thyroid [CT] muscle. Likewise, we will use the term CT-dominant register in this study. The other two vocal registers that have been identified are the ‘glottal fry’, ‘pulse’, or Strohbass register, described as a low popping sound resembling the sound of a creaky door, and the ‘whistle’, ‘flute’, or flageolet register, which sits at the very upper end of the range and 23 resembles the ring of a flute or a bell. Since both registers have limited use in classical or CCM singing, they are considered auxiliary vocal registers (Henrich 2006, 8–12; Hollien et al., 1983). If the definition of a register is to include the influence of the vocal tract on the fundamental frequency – sometimes called a ‘secondary register’ – then the classification of vocal registers becomes more complex. In this case, other ‘register phenomena’ could be included in the definition, including ‘middle’ or ‘mix voice’, an acoustic phenomenon that blends the laryngeal function of TA- or CT-dominant singing with the aural qualities of the opposite register (Henrich 2006, 8–12). It could also include the secondary passaggio and the higher ‘pure head register’ sensation often described by classical sopranos. This secondary passaggio is characterised as a preemptive ‘lift’ in order to prepare for the formant shift that happens around the pitch D5, and the secondary ‘pure’ head register is often perceived as a lighter, more focused tone than the lower CT-dominant register (Stark 2008, 88; Henrich 2006, 11–12). Neither ‘mix voice’ nor the ‘pure head register’ are separate laryngeal functions, but they are phenomena influenced by the vocal tract that are perceived as independent register sensations by many singers. This confusion between the physiological and the auditory/kinaesthetic experience of registration has led many voice scientists and pedagogues to put forth individual and sometimes widely varying theories for what constitutes a register and how they should be classified. Manuel Garcia himself vacillated between a two-register theory (chest and falsetto-head) and a three-register theory (chest, middle, and falsetto-head) (Stark 2008, 67–73). Many voice scientists and pedagogues have posited that women have a different number of registers than men (Stark 2008, 67–68; Henrich 2006; Large 1973, 12), while some posit that the entire voice, when correctly used, is but one register (Henrich 2006, 5). Some have even suggested that, since each note must be sung in a slightly different manner, perhaps every single note of a singer’s range could be considered its own register (McKinney 1994, 98; Large 1973, 9). Because of this confusion, several voice scientists have suggested other ‘uncontaminated’ naming paradigms, such as numbering the registers, in order to finally clarify the subject. However, this naming paradigm has only been retained among certain groups within the voice science community (Henrich 2006; Hollien et al. 1983). Lastly, although most vocal register definitions include boundaries of pitch area, some contemporary pedagogues, including both Seth Riggs and Jo Estill, insist that the primary vocal registers are not necessarily bound by pitch area. Instead, they suggest that the limitations placed on the vocal registers are due to social and cultural norms, as well as lack of proper training to 24 balance the breath with the musculature responsible for registration (Steinhauer, McDonald Klimek & Estill 2017, 77–87; Riggs 1992, 33–37). Essentially, these pedagogues claim that with proper training, one can use both their TA- and CT-dominant registers throughout their entire range. For the purpose of this study, therefore, due to the complexities surrounding registration both scientifically and historically, I will use the term ‘register’ to simply designate the distinct vibratory mechanisms of the vocal folds. Classical Pedagogy Texts and Registration The distinction between head and falsetto remains a major point of confusion. (Large 1972, 24) The vocal register definition of Manuel Garcia II, first published in his Memoir in 1840, is one of the most frequently cited definitions in pedagogy texts. Its primary tenets have become the blueprint for many subsequent register definitions, including those located in these pedagogy texts. It is as follows: By the word register we mean a series of consecutive and homogeneous tones going from low to high, produced by the development of the same mechanical principle, and whose nature differs essentially from another series of tones equally consecutive and homogenous produced by another mechanical principle. (Garcia in Stark 2008, 68)  There are three facets to this definition: 1) the tones of each register occur within a consecutive pitch range; 2) they are homogeneous in quality; and 3) they are produced with the same physical mechanism. Despite the similarities, the number of registers and the naming paradigms recommended in each of these texts differ substantially. McKinney adheres to a four-register theory with focus on one primary singing register and three auxiliary registers (McKinney 1994, 93). Bunch asserts there are three registers despite inconsistencies within her classification structure (Bunch 1997, 76). Lastly, Reid emphasises the two-register theory with an importance placed on the ‘feigned’ voice as a functional bridge between the primary registers (Reid 1990, 64). Common Research Cited in Classical Pedagogy Texts In order to understand the vast discrepancies between these texts, it was important to survey the sources they cite. Although Reid does not cite any literature, both Bunch and McKinney's texts rely 25 heavily on the research of William Vennard, Janwillem Van den Berg, John Large, and Harry Hollien. Vennard, a personal mentor to both Bunch and McKinney, was a strong proponent of the two- register theory. He also believed in a blended muscular function bridging the primary registers, and he called the resulting registers chest, middle and head in female singers and chest, head and falsetto in male singers (Finks 1992 37–45). Van den Berg vacillated between a three-register theory in his early career and a two-register theory later on (along with two auxiliary registers). His early research inconsistently named the middle register both middle and head, and insisted on differing physiological functions between male and female voices. Despite his later conclusions determining that the male falsetto and female head voice were in fact the same mechanism, his earlier research is cited in McKinney’s text (Finks 1992, 23–29). Large was a proponent of the three-register theory; however, his personal bias against the use of the male falsetto (“when defined as the light, effeminate high voice of the male which cannot be swelled into the full head voice without a break”) (Large 1972, 24) caused him to determine the falsetto to be: 1) different than the female head voice despite emerging evidence to the contrary; and 2) better relegated to an auxiliary status, along with Strohbass and whistle, due to its use in current performance practice (Finks 1992, 34). Notably, this study is cited in both Bunch and McKinney’s texts. Harry Hollien’s research influenced Bunch and McKinney, since they both use elements of Hollien’s register-naming system: ‘pulse’, ‘modal’, ‘loft’, and ‘whistle’.  While Hollien was the spokesperson for the CoMeT’s release on what is now considered the definitive classification of vocal registers (Hollien et al. 1983), his earlier research had stated that the four primary registers were classified thus: The pulse register includes vocal fry, creak, and Strohbass registers; the modal register includes chest, head, low, mid, and high; the loft register is the equivalent of the phoneticians’ and speech pathologists’ falsetto register, … [and the] fourth register, the flute, whistle or pipe. (Hollien 1972) In contrast to the CoMeT’s findings in which ‘modal’ describes the TA-dominant register and ‘loft’ describes the CT-dominant register, Hollien’s 1972 definition of the modal register includes both chest and head (as well as ‘low, mid, and high’ – whatever that means), which can easily be construed to mean the majority of the usable vocal range. What is apparent in this varied and inconsistent research is three-fold. Firstly, the number of registers vacillates anywhere between two and five with ‘middle’ as a wildcard register that may 26 or may not exist physiologically. The second conclusion is that the labelling of registers differs for male and female singers, whether or not the mechanical function differs. The third conclusion is that there is an overlapping and confusing set of terminology, especially for the term ‘head’, which is used for both male ‘middle’ voice and female CT-dominant register. Because of this confusion, it is no wonder the classical pedagogy textbooks come to no solid consensus. Real-Life Effects - A Discourse of the Fallible Scientist The real-life effect of this inconsistent research can be found in Bunch’s Dynamics of the Singing Voice. At first it states, “The low register is referred to as ‘chest,’ because singing in that register produces a feeling of vibration in the upper chest and lower neck. The upper register is called ‘head’ (female) or ‘falsetto’ (male), because vibrations are sensed high in the head” (Bunch 1997, 76–77). In the very next paragraph, however, the text contradicts itself by stating “current literature … describes three basic registers: the glottal fry (or a gentle popping sound made by the vocal folds on a low pitch); a large area of regular or modal voice (including middle and head registers); and falsetto and the flute and whistle registers at the extreme top” (77). These categorisations are confusing on two levels. In the first statement the male falsetto and female head voice both belong to the ‘upper register’, thus appearing to be similar, while in the second statement the male falsetto is compared to the female whistle register. Next, in the first statement, the female upper register is named the ‘head’ register, while in the second statement the regular, middle, and head registers (sex unspecified) belong to the overarching category of ‘modal voice’ – a term commonly understood to be synonymous with the TA-dominant register – and the female ‘upper register’ is reserved only for whistle register. Unfortunately, this contradictory information, despite being based in the literature, is: 1) presented as a conglomerate fact and 2) intended to be taught in tertiary vocal pedagogy courses. The inconsistencies are never clarified; thus, the reader is most likely left without any clear understanding of how to teach registration. This brings us back to the scientific discourse mentioned previously: that science is in fact fallible, and that it is vulnerable to the biases of those conducting research. 27 McKinney’s Preference for ‘Modal Voice’ – A Discourse of Pathology Bunch is not the only pedagogue whose register definition is influenced by this varied research. McKinney similarly includes the majority of the usable singing voice in his classification of ‘modal’ register: The modal voice is the normal register for speaking and singing. Some advocates of falsetto singing object to this statement because it seems to imply that the use of falsetto is abnormal. Their objection does not change the basic facts. It is rare to hear anyone speaking in falsetto, except for comic purposes; in fact, falsetto speech is classified as a functional dysphonia… The fact that people can and do sing in falsetto does not qualify it as a normal register in actual usage. (1994, 96–97) To this, he adds that the confusion “concerning what a register is, and how many registers there are, is due in part to what takes place in the modal register when a person sings from the lowest pitches of that register to the highest pitches”.  He claims that breaks will occur if a singer holds either the length, tension, or mass of the vocal folds static as one rises in pitch. These breaks, which he contends are incorrectly identified as register boundaries, are “simply vocal problems which have been created by a static laryngeal adjustment that does not permit the necessary changes to take place” (97). While the concept of modal voice encompassing both TA- and CT-dominant vocal function is rooted in the literature that influenced McKinney, the insistence that the register transition itself is a ‘vocal problem’ rather than a physiological phenomenon is notable. The inclusion of the lower CT-dominant register in ‘modal voice’ shows a disregard for the register boundary as being physiologically meaningful, as though the power and grounding of the lower CT-dominant sound is evidence enough for it to belong to another, more respected classification, thereby separating it from the ungrounded sound of the so-called ‘falsetto’.  Claiming that the register transition is a ‘vocal problem’, coupled with the implication that one must ‘fix’ the natural voice and erase all traces of register inconsistency, illuminates our first emergent discourse: the pathologising discourse. Pathologising occurs when one recategorises naturally occurring phenomena as being a pathology in need of healing. In the context of this study, pathologising appears in one of two ways: by stating that a naturally occurring vocal phenomenon is ‘wrong’ or ‘broken’, or by stating that a certain action which is not aligned with western-European classical performance practice will ‘do harm’ to the voice. As we will see, this discourse is pervasive throughout the classical texts profiled in this study. 28 McKinney’s Distaste for the Falsetto Register – A Discourse of Gender Bias and Othering Just as McKinney does not disguise his preference for the modal register, he does not feign his distaste for the ‘falsetto’.  In multiple instances he describes the falsetto in a negative light, as ‘inherently breathy’ with ‘few overtones present’, having ‘limited dynamic variation’, ‘limited tone quality’, and a ‘simplicity of wave-form’ (1994, 99–101). He goes further to state that the only proper uses for singing in falsetto include range extension in male-only choirs, range extension in solo singing especially for high pianissimo tones, for “comic effect … especially when men are mimicking women”, and for vocal development (101–102). Those who voluntarily choose to sing in falsetto fall into a few categories: falsettists (i.e. countertenors or boy sopranos), folk singers, yodelers, and pop singers. In each case, he warns of the dangers of singing extensively in falsetto, and that “unless he [the singer] plans to make a career as a falsettist”, the only acceptable use of the falsetto is as “a means to an end; that end is to assist modal voice” (99). In this list of negative attributes and warnings against the use of the falsetto, another discourse begins to emerge: one of gender bias. This discourse is exemplified by the accepted naming paradigm differentiating the female and male CT-dominant registers. The female CT-dominant register is often called ‘head voice’, a term that is situated within the body, while the male CT- dominant register is called the ‘falsetto’: a word that is not only translated to ‘false’ but which also contains a diminutive suffix. Little false voice. For female singers, the terms ‘chest voice’ and ‘head voice’ have equal weighting – both belonging to the body, both describing resonance sensations. As such, the implication is that the entire vocal mechanism stands on equal footing. On the other hand, pairing the terms ‘chest voice’ with ‘falsetto’ for male singers indicates a different relationship. The former has a sense of physicality and grounding; the latter contains a demeaning connotation, one that implies a fake sound, a childlike sound, one that is considered un-embodied. Since the presence of the male body historically suggests power, strength, and ‘masculinity’, a vocal sound that lacks the influence of the body is, by default, considered effeminate. Therefore, the refusal of voice scientists and pedagogues over time to admit the equivalence of the female ‘head voice’ and the male ‘falsetto’ is telling of the perceived negativity surrounding a male producing a ‘boyish’ or ‘feminine’ sound. 29 With this mind, let us consider the list of those who voluntarily choose to use the falsetto and the manner in which McKinney describes them. This, I posit, contributes not only to a gender bias discourse, but also to a discourse of othering non-classical singers. The first accepted use stated by McKinney is to aid in range extension in male-only choirs: For choirs made up of adult men, composers often write cruelly high first tenor parts in an effort to spread the harmony and to avoid the excessive crossing of voices. Few tenors can maintain this tessitura for any length of time without resorting to falsetto for some of the quieter passages. Falsetto will be softer than modal voice on the same pitches and will involve less physical effort by the singer; when properly used, it can make possible some lovely tonal effects. (102) In this case, the singer employing the falsetto belongs to a choir ‘made up of adult men’, a phrase that carries connotations of strength and masculinity, amplified by the phrase ‘physical effort’, which grounds the tenor in his body. For this singer, the intentional use of falsetto is by no means effeminate. The tenor is showing no weakness due to the ‘cruelty’ of the composer, and therefore the result is a ‘lovely tonal effect’ that is simply ‘softer than modal voice’. Essentially, the masculinity and corporeal grounding of the tenor using falsetto is not in question while singing classical music within the confines of an all-male choir. This singer, in addition to being a male who sings classical music, is likely to be highly educated since he is able to read these ‘cruelly high first tenor parts’. The knowledge of staff notation can be viewed in this case as an access point to higher education and therefore privilege – a marker of class identity. With this example, McKinney is setting up the foundation for a binary comparison by introducing the high-class, educated, masculine singer who provides the model of acceptable singing practices. This singer becomes the standard against which the ‘other’ will be judged, based on examples of less-acceptable uses of falsetto. The next example McKinney gives of those who use falsetto are the yodelers: Yodeling is a technique which appears in the singing of Swiss and Tyrolean mountaineers and of certain Country-Western singers… There is no evidence that yodeling in itself is harmful to the voice; some cowboy yodelers are still singing at a ripe old age. Some teachers of singing, however, believe that a person should not engage in much yodeling if he plans to be involved in “serious” singing. (McKinney 1994, 101) With this example, the binary comparison begins to come into view. Here, the unacceptable use of the falsetto is being employed by people who live in the mountainous regions of Switzerland, the Tyrolean region of Southern Austria and Northern Italy, and the country singers of the American southwest. These geographic groups are often stereotyped as being ‘common mountain people’, 30 usually of presumed lower-class standing, whose musical traditions are passed on without the aid of formal education or standard musical notation. Juxtaposing these groups against ‘serious’ singing implies that singing in these traditions is ‘un-serious’.  It is a joke. Even though it is deemed acceptable for the classical tenor to use falsetto, for the ‘common mountain person’ it is seen as unacceptable, un-serious, and pathological. It is a classic ‘us’ versus ‘them’ comparison. According to Hall, “people who are in any way significantly different from the majority – ‘them’ rather than ‘us’ – are frequently exposed to this binary form of representation” (Hall 2009, 228–229). This practice can be described as a discourse of ‘othering’, or setting apart from those who do not belong to the majority group by over-simplifying their distinguishing characteristics. This binary, established through the use of falsetto, implies that those who fall within the ‘in’ group – middle- or upper-class western-European singers – can use falsetto and still be viewed as serious, masculine singers. Those who fall outside of that group cannot employ the same technique without judgment. It is also important to note that binary oppositions almost always highlight structures of power (for example white/black or high-class/low class), and those structures operate within and further solidify the existing binaries (Hall 2009, 235). With this in mind, consider the following passage in which McKinney discusses his preferred technique for correcting a breathy tone: Another suggestion which might work is asking him [the student] to imitate a hillbilly or country- western singer, especially if the teacher asks for exaggeration or caricature. Any approach which encourages tightness, even as a means to an end, should be used with discretion and discontinued as soon as possible. (McKinney 1994, 86) It is now clear that McKinney displays overt classism towards this group of people since he suggests ‘imitating a hillbilly’ with ‘exaggeration or caricature’. This further amplifies the notion that he considers this style of singing a joke. Even though I personally find it appalling that a respected author uses derogatory terms like ‘hillbilly’ in an academic text, McKinney’s willingness to do so, and the classism inherent in the term itself, cannot be overlooked. This style of singing is set apart from classical singing and, in so doing, further separates ‘us’ from ‘them’, the ‘serious’ singers from the lower-class ‘joke’ singers. McKinney does not single out the other based only on class, but also on race and/or ethnicity. Consider the following passage: Also, folk singers of varying ethnic origins incorporate falsetto in their singing… In addition, it 31 appears rather frequently in “pop” singers and rock groups, where it is used with so much force and strain at times that it can be permanently damaging to the voice. (102) In this example, McKinney groups together a wide variety of singers, including ‘folk singers of varying ethnic origins’, to which one cannot deny a racial component. This sweeping generalisation suggests an element of stereotyping, since these genres are distilled to one simple characteristic: using the falsetto. According to Hall, stereotypes take the “simple, vivid, memorable, easily grasped and widely recognized characteristics about a person [or group of people], reduce everything about the person to those traits, exaggerate and simplify them, and fix them without change or development to eternity”.  This act “divides the normal and the acceptable from the abnormal and the unacceptable” (Hall 2009, 258). In this passage, McKinney gathers this wide group of singers – all pop, rock, and ‘folk singers of varying ethnic origins’ – and reduces them to one characteristic, using the falsetto, which is then pathologised. This act further maintains the social order of binary power structures. It sets up a framework of the ‘normal’ versus the ‘abnormal’, the ‘healthy’ versus the ‘pathological’, and the high-class European singer versus the low-class, ‘non-classical’ singer. The final use of the falsetto suggested by McKinney is for “comic effect in opera and musical comedy, especially when men are mimicking women” (McKinney 1994, 101–102). As we have seen, the use of falsetto in classically trained male singers is acceptable in the environment of an all-male chorus, since it is not viewed as effeminate. Similarly, in the case of a man mimicking a woman for a laugh, using the falsetto is acceptable since the masculinity of the singer, contrasted by the femininity of the sound, is not in question. Unlike the ‘un-serious’ practice of yodeling, this ‘un-serious’ practice is somehow given the green light by McKinney. This not only solidifies the ‘us’ versus ‘them’ mindset used in othering the non-classical voice, it further evidences the idea that McKinney considers the falsetto to be acceptable when it is produced by a highly educated classically trained singer, one whose masculinity is grounded and therefore unquestioned. What’s more, McKinney pathologises any falsetto sound a male might make that appears to be effeminate by way of warning against them as potentially causing harm to the vocal mechanism. This is not supported by evidence but with hearsay of a general dissenting opinion. McKinney does not cite studies; he simply references ‘those that know’ – another way of separating ‘us’ from ‘them’ – by using phrases such as “there is some feeling that continued use [of men using whistle register] could result in a vocal dysphonia” (105) or “the writer has observed that older singers who have sung extensively in falsetto tend to develop obvious vibrato and intonation 32 problems” (104) or “it is possible that the vocal cords will lose the ability to return to their unstretched condition; laryngologists call this problem ‘bowed vocal cords’” (ibid.). It appears that these warnings of pathologies that might occur if a male sings in falsetto, being ungrounded in literature and steeped in a discourse of gender bias, are in reality simply warnings against appearing effeminate. ‘Is the Female Capable of Producing a Falsetto?’ – A Discourse of Gender Bias, Part II It is interesting to note that after nine pages of discussion over the merits and demerits of the primary vocal registers, McKinney finally mentions the female voice specifically by asking the question: Is the female capable of producing a falsetto? (103) At this point, it becomes apparent that the previous nine pages had not been intended to address the registration of the female voice whatsoever. Not only this, but his first mention of the female voice is in relation to what is usually considered a male-specific register. Let us break this statement down into three parts: 1. Is the female 2. capable of 3. producing a falsetto? The first portion of this sentence, ‘is the female’, implies a sense of objectification of the female singer. Firstly, due to the omission of the female singer from the previous nine pages, we can assume that the female singer is viewed separately from the other singers previously mentioned. Furthermore, grammatically, the sentence does not inquire about ‘female singers’ but rather about ‘the female’, set as an object by the article ‘the’ and who, by grammatical comparison (‘male singers’ vs ‘the female’), is further isolated from all of the singers previously mentioned. The next portion of the sentence, ‘capable of’, carries further gendered connotations. The term ‘capable’ holds an implied meaning of having achieved an ability rather than inherently possessing a trait, as though ‘the female’ may or may not be able to obtain a falsetto. It also implies that being able to achieve a falsetto might make the female a more ‘capable’ or complete singer – more like the male singer – despite McKinney’s opinion that the male falsetto is an inherently effeminate sound and therefore discouraged in most uses. The third portion of this sentence, ‘producing a falsetto’, is 33 enquiring about the ability of the female voice to produce what is often considered a male-specific sound. Therefore, asking the question, ‘is the female capable of producing a falsetto?’ creates a moot point. The answer to this question, given the scientific, social and historical contexts of the term, is both yes and no. A Shroedinger’s falsetto. Female voices are certainly capable of producing a CT-dominant sound, but the resultant sound will most likely not be considered a falsetto. This passage shows a stunning misunderstanding of the female vocal mechanism and its position in comparison to the male voice, and its placement as an afterthought after nine pages of discussing the male voice shows an utter disregard for the place of female vocalists in the entire western- European classical voice tradition. In this, we can see that the ‘us’ versus ‘them’ dichotomies that McKinney’s text produces have been set to such narrow parameters. The singers othered in McKinney’s text are not only those of different singing traditions, of lower-class standing, or of ‘varying ethnic origins’; they are also women who sing within the very same musical tradition. It is apparent that the only people McKinney considers to be ‘serious’ singers are white, male, western-European, middle- or upper- class classical singers. ‘Reversing the Usual Procedure’ – A Discourse of Racial Bias Although Reid’s text lacks the blatant gender bias and othering found in McKinney’s text, there remains an undercurrent of class and racial biases, especially regarding ‘non-classical’ registration stylings. These are revealed when he speaks about the way in which traditional registration practices are ‘reversed’ among female singers in CCM styles: Although it has long been a general practice for female vocalists to avoid the chest register whenever possible, many singers of popular songs have for years reversed the usual procedure and employed the chest register when singing ‘hot’ jazz. … Voices of this kind are crude, ‘shouty’ and masculine. (1990, 75) Let us begin to unpack this passage by considering Reid’s idea of ‘the usual procedure’. This procedure consists of blending of the registers by bringing the lightness of the ‘co-ordinated falsetto’ into the chest region by use of the ‘feigned voice’ (Reid 1990, 102-107). Reid is implying that any register action that is not trained in this procedure, one that requires the aid of an educated mentor, is ‘unusual’.  This ignores the fact that the vast majority of people, financially and culturally, do not have access to an education in ‘the usual procedure’. 34 Noting this exclusion, we can see that the ‘general practice’ of female vocalists avoiding the chest register is, in actuality, specific to western-European classically trained voices. Described as the ‘bourgeois voice’ by Grant Olwage in his essay on the black choral voice in colonial South Africa, the practice of singing primarily in the CT-dominant register is not only culturally seen as an upper-class white sound, but it is also not necessarily ‘general practice’ for most untrained voices (2004). The ‘anachronistic voice’, as Olwage describes it – the untrained voice of the common person – often naturally prefers the TA-dominant register in both male and female singers. Furthermore, Reid’s specification of the genre ‘hot jazz’ as an example of improper registration has deep racial implications. Jazz was originally an African American musical genre, born in the early twentieth century in New Orleans and Chicago (Tucker & Jackson 2013). What’s more, according to Stephens, genres function as “systems of orientation, expectations and conventions that circulate between industry, text, and subject… Thus race, ethnicity, geography, and so on are fundamentally evoked by categories like rap, salsa, and country” (2008, 161–162). Viewed through this lens, evoking jazz specifically elicits cultural and racial associations that cannot be ignored. Placing the genre of ‘hot jazz’ in direct comparison to the ‘usual procedure’ is akin to placing black in direct comparison to white. The ‘usual procedure’ for white women trained in the western-European classical music tradition is to sing predominantly in the CT-dominant register, which is not necessarily the case for those coming from other traditions. Lastly, adding the term ‘hot’ to jazz has implications of promiscuity, which sexualises the women who use their TA-dominant registers, a stereotype that is also often associated with People of Colour (Hall 2003, 231). The description of ‘voices of this kind’ being ‘crude’ and ‘shouty’ further resonates in this racial bias discourse. Historically, belting has been associated with the concept of the ‘shout’, an aesthetic often associated with black music-making (Olwage 2004, 215). The shout is significant to the history of African American genres, tracing its roots back to the slave music of antebellum-era America (and likewise further back to the African continent). Several forms of African American slave music invoked this aesthetic, including the ‘ring shout’ or the ‘field holler’.  The significance of the ring shout culturally and historically has been described as “foundational to all subsequent Afro-American music-making” and the central qualities of the shout – including call-and-response devices, cries, hollers, polyrhythms, certain harmonic structures, blue notes, and interjections – have become “crucial to black musical expression” in subsequent African American musical genres such as blues and jazz (Floyd 1991, 266–267). Through this lens, we can see that Reid’s association of crude shouting with ‘hot jazz’ is significant. It evokes three separate racial 35 connotations: the presumed promiscuity of the Black body, the