Technique vs. Style: What Actually Makes a Well-Rounded Singer?
By Chase Guyton | The Artist Path
I get some version of this question from singers all the time:
Should I get my technique completely solid before I start worrying about style?
My answer is yes.
And no.
Because I don’t think technique and style are nearly as separate as we sometimes make them out to be.
Style itself requires technique.
If I want a line to feel connected, swoon-like and emotional, I may use more legato singing. I may scoop into a note, slide between pitches, change an onset or treat the end of a phrase differently.
Those are stylistic choices.
But I still need the vocal coordination to execute them.
So rather than thinking of technique and style as two stops on a linear path—first I learn technique, then I learn style—I think they’re constantly interacting.
And eventually, the goal is for them to become so integrated that you don’t have to think much about either one when you perform.
The Singer Who Is Technically Great—but I Don’t Believe Them
I’ve worked with singers who are extremely technically trained.
Their breath management is great. Their registration is coordinated. Their bridges are managed beautifully. They have range, agility and consistency.
And I don’t buy what they’re selling.
I don’t mean that as an insult. They’re doing a lot of things incredibly well.
But sometimes a singer becomes so immersed in executing the mechanics of singing that they forget what all of those vowels and consonants eventually become:
A lyric.
And the lyric means something.
If you’re singing while internally thinking, Here comes that vowel. Here comes that diphthong. I need to manage the pressure here so I don’t break there, you may execute everything beautifully.
But are you communicating?
When I encounter that singer, sometimes the last thing I want to talk about is technique.
I may ask them not to sing at all.
Speak the lyric.
Act it.
What are you saying? Who are you saying it to?
If you can’t personally relate to the exact scenario in the song, find an adjacent experience from your own life that carries a similar emotion.
Then live there for a minute.
Now sing.
There is research behind the broader idea that emotion changes vocal communication. Pitch, intensity, timing, timbre and other acoustic characteristics contribute to how listeners perceive emotion, and visual information from a singer’s face and movement can contribute significantly as well. (PubMed Central (PMC))
In other words, expression isn’t just something we sprinkle on top of the vocal after we’ve sung it correctly.
It’s part of the communication.
Audiences Don’t Want to Be Sung At
This is something I say a lot:
Audiences don’t want to be sung at. They want to be invited into an experience.
That’s where a technically perfect performance can sometimes become sterile.
Technique matters tremendously. But technique isn’t the destination.
It’s the vehicle.
We’re trying to get somewhere with it.
And sometimes that means allowing a performance to have edges. People can be incredibly endeared by imperfection when that imperfection feels connected to something real.
I’m much more interested in being moved by a singer than being impressed by their ability to execute everything perfectly.
Then There’s the Singer Who Is All Feeling
Now let’s flip it.
A singer walks into my room, opens their mouth and immediately I get goosebumps.
They’re dripping with style. There’s texture. Personality. Interesting phrasing. They’re completely invested in the lyric.
I believe every word.
But as a vocal coach, I also can’t completely turn my ears off.
Maybe something is inconsistent. Maybe we’re working incredibly hard to create a certain sound. Maybe the singer has developed an amazing stylistic coordination but doesn’t yet have enough control over it to reproduce it reliably.
I don’t want to take away what makes that singer special.
I want to give them more control over it.
So we may reverse engineer the performance.
Take one line.
Then one lyric.
Then one vowel.
Maybe I’ll ask them to sing it completely clean.
No rasp. No vibrato. No dramatic dynamics. No stylistic embellishment.
Be boring.
If the performance were a house, we’re stripping it down to the studs.
That’s often when we discover where the instability actually lives.
Then we work on the underlying coordination and begin layering everything back on.
This idea of breaking complex vocal behavior into smaller components and progressively integrating learned behavior is consistent with principles used in motor-learning approaches to voice. (PubMed Central (PMC))
The goal isn’t to turn an interesting singer into a generic one.
It’s to help them do what already moves people with greater command.
So What Does a Well-Rounded Singer Look Like?
A highly integrated singer can operate on both sides.
In rehearsal, I can ask them to compartmentalize.
Let’s work technically.
Now forget that and work on the story.
Let’s change this stylistic choice.
Now let’s examine the coordination underneath it.
That’s a high-level skill.
But when that singer walks onstage, I don’t necessarily want them thinking about any of it.
Technique should eventually become reliable enough that the performer can give more of their attention to the message.
In a survey of 278 singers taking voice lessons, about 77% said their attention changed during performance: they focused less on vocal technique and more on the drama or expression of the music. (PubMed Central (PMC))
That’s where I want technique to take us.
Not toward obsessing over technique.
Toward freedom.
If You’re the Technical Singer, Try This
Choose a song and pick one very specific emotion.
Joyful. Melancholy. Angry.
If you need to start with happy, sad or mad, that’s fine.
Connect it to a lived experience. Give yourself appropriate emotional boundaries, especially if you’re working with something difficult.
Then speak the lyric from inside that experience.
Don’t manufacture dynamics. Don’t decide, I’m going to get louder here.
Speak it.
Notice what naturally happens.
Then begin adding the music back without abandoning the emotional reality.
It may feel vulnerable.
That’s the point.
When we communicate, we’re allowing somebody else into an experience with us.
If You’re the Expressive Singer, Try the Opposite
Take the first line of your song.
Strip everything away.
Sing it like a robot.
No vibrato. No texture. No dramatic dynamics.
Listen to the vowels. The consonants. The diphthongs. Notice where the voice becomes unstable when the stylistic tools you normally rely on aren’t available.
Get comfortable with the boring version.
Then rebuild.
Add dynamics.
Add texture.
Add phrasing.
And eventually return your attention to the message.
You’re not replacing your artistry with technique.
You’re building a stronger foundation underneath it.
There Is Beauty on Both Sides
If you’re heavily technical, don’t look at yourself and think, I have no artistry.
You’ve developed something valuable.
And if you’re an incredibly expressive singer who hasn’t developed the same technical consistency yet, don’t tell yourself, I’m all heart and no technique.
There is enormous skill in what you’re already doing too.
Celebrate the strength you have while developing the skill you don’t have yet.
You have time.
Want Help Bringing Technique and Style Together?
If you feel strong on one side of your singing but want help integrating technique, style, and expression, individualized vocal coaching at The Artist Path can help you build a strategy around your individual voice without stripping away what already makes you compelling.
Because ultimately, the goal isn’t technical perfection.
And it isn’t style for style’s sake.
It’s integration.
Learn your technique well enough that you can trust it. Develop your artistry deeply enough that you have something worth communicating.
And then, when it’s time to perform, let yourself sing.
Never forget why you started doing this in the first place.
Hopefully, somewhere underneath all of the training, practicing, analyzing and performing, it’s still because singing is fun.
And because it makes you feel something.
