Vocal Recovery Quotes

I've been singing properly every day since I was about fifteen or sixteen, and I have never had any problems with my voice, ever. I've had a sore throat here and there, had a cold and sung through it, but that day it just went while I was onstage in Paris during a radio show. It was literally like someone had pulled a curtain over it.

Dysphonia is not a singing problem. It's a voice box issue in the muscle on the voice, very different from having a nodule on the vocal cords, which I've never had. I'm lucky that I've never had that. It needs a long renewal time, and even today, I am still addressing it.

There's very little I can sing now. When I asked my first voice teacher, who was the best one, "When will I know when to stop singing?" he said, "Your voice will tell you." And it is very, very difficult to sing now.

Well, I don't think a specific role can destroy your voice. What can destroy your voice is when you... make an error. Everybody can make an error. But then you need to realize what is your way.

One day I promised God that if he would give me my voice back I would never smoke again. I got three octaves back after quitting.

When I come off stage, I just shut up. I try as best I can not to use my voice at all. You know I love to talk, but I try when I come off stage to have the minimum amount of vocal interaction because I need at least a good 10 hours to just recover from my form of extreme singing.

There is one thing I should say, and it's important: Young Broadway singers and anybody who is an orator of any kind - lawyers who have to speak in court or pastors or anyone who has a lot of stress on their vocal cords: You should do the maintenance. You should do whatever it takes to feel fresh and good.

I really worked very hard to bring my voice back because I used to have a good voice, and to try to do my exercises that I remember from Yale and all the things in the olden days, clearing your sinuses and all that.

I've had tonsilitis and I'm not sure if I can sing on Saturday [whilst out on the town in the West End]

I actually ended up going through a vocal change. It started about two years ago, and it's only been recently that I found my balance again. Vocally, I couldn't figure out what was going on. My lows were getting lower, and my highs were getting higher; everything felt weird.

I've got these five-pound weights and a treadmill in the living room. I work out the other parts that have affected my voice: my diaphragm - doctors took mine out in surgery - and my lungs. I've got to build back my legs, too, so I can run across that stage. I've got a lot to do, but I'm going to get out, sing songs and tell the stories.

I had spent about three months where I couldn't sing at all, so that was anxiety-provoking. But after that, I went back out. I sang for two hours in my garage one day to see if I had a voice.

I lost my voice for the first time. I was so bummed out, but it happens to every singer at some point in their career. I don't think most people understand, but I sing every night and sometimes we do five shows in a row, which is really bad for your voice.

For my convalescence, I had to exercise my voice only with vowels. It is a medical rule after a long loss of voice.

Something like Deckard Cain is great; it doesn't ruin your voice. But games that involve violence or battle or mutating and stuff like that really does take a toll on your voice. And I've even had to start to go to a voice guru kind of guy to do exercises to try to save and get back some of what I lost.

In childhood I developed a serious throat infection, and my heart stopped beating. I recovered from that illness with a voice that boomed forth like Kate Smith's!

When my voice breaks, it recovers automatically. I don't do anything special to maintain my voice. I have a natural voice and don't have to take care of it.

For me, bel canto is medicine for the voice.

There were hard days when you'd be screaming for hours and then the next day, you'd have a scene where you were just talking and because your voice was so stretched out from screaming for five hours, it would sound weird. It required a lot of adrenaline, too, so you have to be able to turn it on all the time. You felt a bit thin at the end of it, just depleted.

There was a time, actually, when I hadn't been singing, and I'd lost a lot of my ability. My range had shrunk.

But I'm pretty lucky with my voice. When I first started touring I went to see a woman to give me some coaching on how not to lose my voice. And she was just saying really your voice is a muscle so if you're using it all the time you should actually come back from tour with a stronger voice than you left with. And that's really how I find it.