
“I will sing with the spirit and I will sing with the mind also.”
— I Corinthians
This book is, at its core, a guidebook — but not in the sense of prescribing a fixed system or proposing a singular “method.” Rather, it is intended as a companion for the singing actor: a fellow traveler along the winding, paradoxical, and deeply personal path of musical-dramatic expression. I have spent the better part of my life in dialogue with this craft — as a performer, writer, director, and teacher — and this text emerges from that lived inquiry, from the rehearsal rooms and backstage corridors where practitioners grapple with the alchemy of voice, body, text, and story.
The ideas contained herein have their origins in both practice and reflection. They arise from work undertaken with teachers, mentors, and colleagues, from late-night conversations in greenrooms, from missteps and breakthroughs, and from the ongoing struggle to understand what singing truthfully actually demands of an artist. They are intentionally woven in a patchwork — at times abstract, at times granular — because the musical theatre itself resists linearity. The art form is a bricolage: the popular and the poetic, the commercial and the sublime, the codified and the explosive. As a result, any pedagogy that hopes to serve singing actors must mirror that complexity.
This is not a book on vocal technique. Nor is it a primer for those without foundational knowledge of music or drama. Throughout these pages, I assume that the reader possesses a working understanding of singing, acting, and the dramaturgical conventions of the musical theatre. Many of the concepts require an existing fluency — a fluency that will deepen only through continued practice. Because singing acting cannot be mastered in abstraction. It must be done. It must be lived through the body.
If you take nothing else from this introduction, take this: your process is your own. Singing acting is ultimately a personal pursuit — not because craft is subjective, but because the expressive instrument is inseparable from the expressive self. You are the vessel. Therefore, the material, the technique, the analysis, and the breath are realized through you and only you.
My wish is that these reflections will animate your curiosity, sharpen your discipline, embolden your choices, and fortify your sense of artistry. And perhaps someday, we may even share a stage — breathing, listening, and telling a story together.