The Hamilton Starting Lineup

Hamilton, the smash hit Broadway show it's damn near impossible to get tickets to, opens its Chicago run one week from today! Thanks to the early group sales, and a thoughtful and organized friend, I'll be seeing the show on October 16.

To help people prepare for the run, Crain's has put together an article (shared with me by my friend over at The Daily Parker) giving the main characters, a quick bio, and 1-3 of their "defining lines." Their main reason for doing this is because the incredible wordplay composer/lyricist/awesome human being Lin-Manuel Miranda was able to put into the play might be a bit much for traditional theatre goers. In fact, the amount of material packed into the show would make the show more like 4-6 hours if written as a "traditional" musical.

"Hamilton" clocks in with twice as many words per minute as its closest competitor, "Spring Awakening." With its long run time and dense lyrics, "Hamilton" has nearly an order of magnitude more words than "1776."

SHOW	PREMIERED	CAST ALBUM LENGTH	TOTAL WORDS	WORDS PER MIN
Hamilton	2015	2h 23m	20,520	144
Spring Awakening	2006	1h 1m	4,709	77
Phantom of the Opera	1988	1h 40m	6,789	68
Company	1970	1h 1m	5,085	83
1776	1969	0h 41m	2,735	66
Candide	1956	1h 14m	5,616	76
Oklahoma!	1943	1h 14m	4,303	59
Pirates of Penzance	1879	1h 43m	5,962	58

And it works. Each time I listen to the Hamilton cast album, I'm astounded at the amazing word play and sheer brilliance of what Miranda was able to do. If you haven't listened yet, I highly encourage you to check it out and prepare to be wowed!

The Language of Music

I come from a very musical family. Both of my parents were in choirs in school, my brother writes and performs music, and music was almost always playing at home or in the car. So it's unsurprising that I developed a love of music very early in life - my mom would argue from infancy - and kept making music continuously up to now, on the piano or my flute, or with my voice. Even after I changed my major from theatre to psychology, I kept performing in my college choir.

Most of my friends are also musicians, or musically inclined, and I married a fellow musician. So music is, and probably always will be, an important part of my life. As a psychologist, though, I'm always fascinated by the experience of music and the brain activity involved with listening to or producing music. This is especially true because I notice that my husband and my experiences of music seem to differ from each other, and I think it comes down to brain activity.

Just to note some of the social differences between us: my husband minored in music, plays piano and organ incredibly well, and is at ease with many styles, including jazz, classical (choral and orchestral), showtunes, and church music/hymnity. My exposure growing up was mainly to classic rock and showtunes, my (minimal) vocal training is in musical theatre, and I played the flute in my school band (so lots of pep band/marching band music).

My husband loves listening to music when he's working or reading. I listen to a lot of music during the day, but if I'm reading or writing and need to do some heavy cognitive processing, I find the music can be distracting. But I also notice that this occurs, regardless of whether I'm listening to music with words or without. That is, it seems that my language center in my brain is processing the music, even when it's instrumental.

I'm not the first to notice this connection. Brown, Martinez, and Parsons (2006) examined the similarities of music and language in the brain. Their participants were amateur musicians, who heard snippets of melody and spoken phrases, and were asked to improvise melodies or phrases based on those snippets. Positron emission tomography (PET scan) was used to look at brain activity during these activities.

Direct comparisons of the two tasks revealed activations in nearly identical functional brain areas, including the primary motor cortex, supplementary motor area, Broca’s area, anterior insula, primary and secondary auditory cortices, temporal pole, basal ganglia, ventral thalamus, and posterior cerebellum. Most of the differences between melodic and sentential generation were seen in lateralization tendencies, with the language task favouring the left hemisphere. However, many of the activations for each modality were bilateral, and so there was significant overlap.

To put this in more common language, they found overlap in many major brain areas - including Broca's area, the so-called language center of the brain - and also found that, while language tasks tended to involve the left hemisphere of the brain, which is where the language center is located, more heavily than music tasks, they both showed activities in both sides of the brain. In fact, while I was looking into the specific brain areas involved, I found this article, which references this handy graphic:

So one possibility is that music activates my language center more heavily, which makes it difficult to complete another linguistic task at the same time. Another potential factor is choice in music. At home, if I'm reading or writing, I'm usually at my desk or on the couch with a book or laptop, while my husband is at the "main" computer, where we store our music files. So in this scenario, he's in charge of what music we listen to. It's possible that the distraction factor is because I didn't select the music. We may react differently to music we are "forced" to listen to and music we select. This could be one reason why Christmas music is so annoying.

In any case, research shows that music is a linguistic task. Not only that, it activates many areas of the brain, including the motor cortex (we tap our feet or dance), the amygdala (we feel emotions in response to the music), and the hippocampus (we associate memories with the music). There are so many positive impacts of music on brain and skills development. Even in those few instances where I find music distracting, I know it has made me a better person.

Tonight, my choir, the Apollo Chorus of Chicago, is performing the first of two concerts featuring music of Broadway. If you're in the Chicago area, be sure to check it out!

When the King Makes Budget Cuts, the Arts are the First to Go: Pippin at the Cadillac Palace Theatre

Last night, I went to a spectacular production of Pippin at the Cadillac Palace Theatre in Chicago. Pippin is the eldest son of Charlemagne - though these characters are based on real people, Charlemagne and Pepin, very little of the plot is historically accurate. The show begins, after introducing a troupe of players (Magic to Do), when Pippin has finished university and returned home to begin finding his place in the world (Corner of the Sky).

Pippin does not seem to have a clear idea of what he wants to do with his life, beyond that he is "extraordinary" and he wants to have a fulfilling life. He tries on various "selves" over the course of the show: warrior, courtesy of some sibling rivalry with his half-brother Lewis - his time as a warrior ends after a discussion with a headless corpse; lover, after a discussion with his grandmother; revolutionary and then King, after some coaxing by the Lead Player; artist (until the arts budget is cut); and religious man (where he was "touched" but not by an angel). For each, Pippin seems to drift along, trying on these different identities, but never fully committing to them - in fact, even selecting these identities is not always his idea. The only decision he seems to make on his own is to run away and try something new, all the while insisting that he is "extraordinary" - so how could he possibly lead a simple, ordinary life? When nothing seems to be working, Pippin's existential crisis leaves him in utter despair.

The show echoes some of the struggles we all go through, of determining our identity and role in the world (see a previous post about this topic). According to Erikson's stages of development, this stage occurs during adolescence, about ages 13-19. Presumably Pippin is older than this by a few years, but it's quite likely that this stage may extend a little later for people who attend university before selecting a career and life goal. The Lead Player operates as the little voice inside Pippin's head, telling him he is made for great things and should never settle. The Lead Player even attempts to sabotage Pippin's relationship with a woman describing herself as "ordinary." But Pippin seems to find some fulfillment and meaning when he meets someone who needs him, and this helps guide him to his destiny.

As I mentioned, the production was spectacular. The story took place inside a circus tent, with the players doing complicated acrobatics, dangling from hoops and trapeze, and, in one scene, balancing on four stacked metal tubes. Pippin's stepmother, Fastrada, had two costume changes in one scene that each took only a few seconds. The actors all had a great time, interacting with the audience and ad-libbing. The show breaks the fourth wall very often, especially in Act 2, so the interactions with the audience - such as Charlemagne playfully chiding the audience for applauding Fastrada ("Don't applaud; you'll only encourage her... And don't applaud that, either.") - fit well with the tone of the show.

In one scene, Lewis was supposed to leap through a hoop the Lead Player held over her head, and he just barely missed. Staying completely in the character, the Lead Player said - as the orchestra kept playing - "Nope, we're doing that one again." Lewis returned to his starting position, the orchestra transitioned back to that point in the music seamlessly, and Lewis made the leap flawlessly to thunderous applause. As the Lead Player continued on with the show, she briefly paused and said to the audience, "You're welcome."

Under the surface, though, Pippin deals with a much deeper, even somber theme, about finding fulfillment and leading a good life - regardless of whether it is extraordinary or not - as well as the danger of letting perfect be the enemy of good. The light-hearted tone of the rest of the show allows Pippin (and the audience) to get so caught up in the fun, we almost miss when the action takes a darker turn.

I wish all of you could see this show. Sadly, the production closes on Sunday. But if you have the opportunity between now and then - yes, I know, not a lot of time - definitely check it out!

~Sara

Attempting to Define the Elusive Quality of Stage Presence

I've spent many years in theatre - in fact, it was my original career path when I started college, though I switched to psychology early on and haven't really looked back. I still try to perform when I get the chance, in my choir, at karaoke night, and by singing at church. Tonight, I cantored a mass at our local Catholic church, where I have been part of the music ministry for a while, and was complimented by the accompanist, not only on my singing, but on my stage presence. I've had many friends compliment me on my presence in recent years, which I find somewhat funny.

Why do I find it funny? In high school, when theatre was my life, my theatre teacher told me repeatedly that I needed to work on my stage presence. Not really having a clear picture of what that was and how to get it, I tried to exude some quality during my acting. I had no clue what I was doing. Seriously. No. Clue.

So she recommended I try taking dance classes. At 17 years old, I took my very first dance class. Tap. I loved it. It was rhythmic. It was fun. I didn't have to be graceful - that is a quality I seriously lack - and I caught on quickly. My teacher told me what I joy I was to teach because I just got it. With my hubris and belief in untapped dance ability, I decided to add jazz and ballet. Ballet, I was just okay. Jazz, I was horrible. Should have just stuck with tap.

But somewhere along the way, I got it. I got the stage presence. And I've had people telling me how wonderful my presence is ever since. I wish I could nail down what it is I'm doing now that I wasn't doing as a freshmen and sophomore theatre geek. I think that's why psychological research appealed to me - I don't do well with vague, undefined concepts. I like to be able to understand the nuts and bolts of a concept, so that I can explain it to others. In research, we call these "operational definitions" - and see a previous blog post about the concept.

So I started thinking about what stage presence is, in an effort to teach others how they can get it too. Here's what I've got so far. Feel free to add anything in the comments.

Of course, there are apparently many workshops that purport to teach you stage presence. I'm giving these tips away for free, mostly because I'm not sure if they're actually good tips. You've been warned! :)

1. Posture: It sounds silly to tell people to make sure they have good posture, but it's true. Standing up straight really does make a difference. It makes you seem taller, and, as a short person, I know I don't take up much space, so this by itself does a lot. You'd be surprised how many people have bad posture. I've watched many actors (even big-name actors) with their upper body leaned slightly forward, and it makes them look like they're uncomfortable and out of place.

2. Even when you're not doing something, do something: There's a singer (who shall remain nameless) who is really involved when she sings. But only when she sings. When the accompaniment continues between verses, she does nothing. She looks like she's waiting for a bus. I'm not saying you should flail your arms around, or do jumping jacks, or something. But don't look like you're just waiting for the music. Smile. Look like you're thinking about something wonderful (or terrible, if you're singing a sad song). If you're singing with another person, engage with them. Whatever you do, it should make sense with the song. But don't look like you're waiting for a bus - unless you're singing about waiting for a bus.

3. Engage someone, whoever makes sense: If you're performing at a recital or church, look at your audience. It's okay to look at your music, but don't just stare at it. If you're in a play, where it doesn't make sense to notice an audience of people sitting there (i.e., the fourth wall), engage with other people on the stage. If you're alone, take in your surroundings. Once again, do what makes sense with the song, but you're doing more than just singing. You're a character, even in a recital or a church. So figure out what your character would be thinking or doing or wanting to look at, and do that.

4. Pretend that whatever you're doing is right, even if it's wrong: I sing wrong words more than I'd like to admit. I mess up notes. I miss pick-ups. We all do it. Don't cringe when you notice your mistake. Just go with it. This is probably the biggest mistake made by good, but amateur, musicians. You're good enough to know when you've messed up (which sets you apart from the not-so-good amateur musicians), but not yet confident enough to hide it well. Of course, keep practicing. Work to minimize your mistakes. But also work to suppress reactions to those mistakes. If you can master that, most people won't even notice when you screw up.

5. Related to #4, always look like you know what you're doing, even when you don't: Once again, this takes practice. Walk with purpose, even if you think you're going the wrong way. Speak as if your words are gospel, even if you know in the back of your mind that they're the wrong words. Don't look lost - unless that's your character. But whatever you're doing, do it 100% and most people will think that's exactly what you should do.

6. If all else fails, try tap-dancing: I'm not sure if it actually worked, but hey, it was fun. And that's always something. :)

Presently yours,
~Sara