By Kris Danford
Associate Professor of Voice and Speech
You’re walking along and suddenly you stub your toe. Without thinking, a howl of pain comes out of your mouth. You say “Ow!” or “Arrgh!” Or something more colorful I probably shouldn’t repeat in this blog post.
As humans, we make noise when we encounter discomfort. Why? Well, recent research conducted by Genevieve Swee and Annett Schirmer published in The Journal of Pain suggests that vocalizing may improve pain tolerance. It’s worth observing that vocalizing also seems to be a ubiquitous reaction to discomfort that is not strictly physical; emotional discomfort can also provoke the production of sound. Think of how a startled person might yelp or a person stricken with grief may cry, keen or wail. It’s a deeply ingrained impulse, but whether a person acts on that impulse to make sound is another matter.
In actor training, significant time is spent connecting the body to sound. Voice and speech classes focus on techniques to minimize physical effort, to breathe freely and respond vocally without bracing or inhibition. Voice teachers use phrases like “the release of sound” or “the purging of sound.” Students are sometimes encouraged to “sigh with relief,” to notice the vibration of their own voice and, even more, to notice that that vibration could be a pleasant sensation in their body. Simply put, noise is encouraged. Given that most people try to be unobtrusive and polite in society, that kind of unapologetic self-expression can initially feel vulnerable and unfamiliar. But after being steeped in this kind of training, it becomes familiar, enjoyable, even.
As a voice teacher and actor, this has been my world for many years. But in 2010, I took a hiatus from it when my husband and I pressed pause on life in New York City to give birth to our first baby in the rural calm of Vermont. My Birkenstock-clad midwives measured my bump with tape measures and taught me hypnosis-based birth techniques as I prepared for an epidural-free birth. I dutifully followed guided meditations and visualized forest paths and ocean tides. I devoured any and all guidance on childbirth I could get. As a rookie mom-to-be I didn’t know the first thing about any of this, so I relied on the experts. Despite my best efforts, the stroll-down-the-forest-path birth I had prepared for didn’t happen as planned. The techniques I’d studied were useless for me; instead, I spent hours contorted in agony and helplessly mute, so heavily dosed with narcotics that I was unable to articulate in words that I needed something different. In the end, we were infinitely lucky to have a healthy baby girl. However, the process left a lot to be desired.
Four years later, baby #2 was on the way. By that time, I had plunged back into the world of voice training and had begun a career as a certified teacher of Fitzmaurice Voicework®. I felt confident in what I knew about how the body and voice could work to facilitate release in the context of actor training. I decided, ‘Well, what the hell? This time, I’ll try using the voice work I know. Can’t be worse than last time, can it?’
As it turned out, it was a whole lot better.
It also turned out that I wasn’t the only person with this background who had gotten through labor using techniques rooted in theatre voice training. I was introduced to close collaborator Jenny Mercein of Tulane University, also a professional actor with extensive voice training. Jenny had also just given birth and had also relied on her voice training in labor, so much so that the nurses dubbed her “the singing mom.”
While researching the article we would eventually co-author, (The Voice and Speech Review, “The Birth Process and Theatre Voice Training: The Glorious Chorus”) we talked to a lot of actor/moms with similar backgrounds who had done the same thing in their births. The techniques they used worked to facilitate physical ease, yes, but vocalizing was a big piece of it. These were noisy births. And the helpful vocal expression wasn’t always the calm, low, serene sounds that many childbirth educators promote. There was moaning, singing, growling like a wild animal, shouting Shakespeare (!)…you name it. And according to these women, vocalization itself was an aid. It seemed to provide a sense of empowerment, ownership of the experience and even lessened the sensation of pain.
I wanted to talk to providers. What did midwives and obstetricians know about the intersection of vocalization and labor? Had this been studied? At the University of Michigan in 2018, I met Certified Nurse Midwives Ruth Zielinski, Lee Roosevelt and Dr. Lisa Harris, MD. This research inquiry was, in fact, new; the effect of vocalization on laboring women hadn’t been explored. I was shocked to learn from them that they had all encountered experiences when a laboring woman was redirected to be lower, calmer…quieter. Or scolded for using “inappropriate language” when throwing in some four-letter words. Or told that making sound would sap their energy. Directly shushed, even. In the labor and delivery wing, nurses sometimes give each other the side-eye if one’s patient is being too loud or disruptive. These examples reveal something about the culture surrounding birth in many institutions. Given this reality, it is unsurprising that women often do not feel free to follow their instincts (vocal or otherwise) in childbirth. The examples are also symptomatic, of course, of a long history of women being silenced in broader societal contexts.
What would happen if expectant mothers had the kinds of tools for vocal expression that we voice teachers hope to instill in our theatre students? To find out, Zielinski, Roosevelt, Harris and I began a research project: “Impolite Birth: Theatre Voice Training and the Experience of Childbirth.” I developed a voice class geared toward expectant moms with the collaboration of the research time and my actor and voice colleagues Jenny Mercein and Laura Quigley. The project is on-going as I prepare to work with pregnant women (on zoom, for now) and introduce them to this work.
The human voice is a powerful tool of expression. That power is not limited to projecting one’s lines to the back of a theatre; it also holds the capacity to deeply affect both the listener and the speaker themself. The exploration of voice taps into vulnerable aspects of ourselves, revealing truths otherwise left hidden. There is catharsis and liberation in the expression of sound, whether it be in a play or in a birthing suite. As I continue with this research, I am excited to explore the ways in which voice work can be an aid for humans in a variety of ways and share its value beyond the confines of the stage.
Kris Danford & Jenny Mercein (2018) The Birth Process and Voice Training: The Glorious Chorus, Voice and Speech Review, 12:1, 35-48, DOI: 10.1080/23268263.2018.1417097
Swee, Genevieve, and Annett Schirmer. “On the Importance of Being Vocal: Saying “Ow” Improves Pain Tolerance.” The Journal of Pain, Vol. 16, No. 4, 2015, pp.326-334. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jpain.2015.01.002.