Voice Art

During a recent fundraising event, a man was introduced and brought to the stage. He was described as a singer, songwriter, and musician. A local gem with talents ready to share with his community. Wearing a black, short sleeve, button-up shirt and jeans, he ascended the stage and stepped to the microphone. Then he spoke.

For a moment, I wondered if this was the musician. He had no accompaniment, no guitar strap graced his shoulders, and he didn’t sit in front of a piano. No problem, I have heard beautiful a capella before. But they were just words. No melody strolled through peaks and valleys of rolling intonations. Okay, but rap has that staccato nature of rhythmic speak, the order of bars and beats. Not here though. So it must be poetry, right? We all learned about writing stanzas in grade school. Only this could not be classified as a sonnet or haiku. If you are confused, so was I.

The art that came through voice I could only describe as original. At first it seemed as aimless as simple spoken words. Ideas formed into thought clouds that rained down language upon the audience. But the longer you listened, the more it hit you. This wasn’t a speech, song, or limerick. Here’s what it was - captivating.

Four times throughout the evening this townie came up to the stage to share his art. Each time was different. Could he sing? Yes he could, as demonstrated in his second appearance. Had a beautiful vocal tone he did. In fact, his vibrato was so powerful that it lent credence to his first performance. It confirmed his spoken words as a choice. It wasn’t due to a lack of options, it was a conscious decision to present his ideas in a certain way.

His other numbers included humor, deep sympathy, and a hypothetical radio ad. By the end of the evening he had complete buy-in from the audience. We were excited to see what he would do next. Would he make us laugh, or contemplate deep questions of life and purpose?

For me, this person captured one of the most important aspects of art - expression of your inner self. Your unique thoughts and ideas. It’s not to replicate or repeat. It’s originality. Sure, so much art is inspired by that which came before. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Just because Campbell's soup already existed doesn’t mean that Andy Warhol didn’t find a way to communicate something new when he put it on a poster. He simply presented it in an altered medium to express something he felt. All art is like that in a way.

Contemplating this simple reality helps me with my own work. A few years ago, I realized that accepting stonework as an art form made me better at it. I even enjoyed it more. I had previously classified it as a subset of construction. It was functional. Then one day I told myself, “I’m going to go paint a picture today.” I didn’t have oils or acrylics, but I did have stone and mortar.

So my hat is off to this gentleman, and his talent for speaking/singing/rapping/pontificating/expressing. The audience was pensive as he began, but on the edge of their seats by the time he concluded. By expressing his unique self, he captured that beautiful aspect of art. He wasn’t confined by any lines or rules, and he was unafraid. Isn’t that what we are all trying to be?