In my last post, we covered the similarities and differences between bunched /r/ and apical /r/, made with the back of the tongue and the front of the tongue
respectively. The front /r/ we called an apical /r/ because it was
made with the apex of the tongue. In this post,
we’ll see if we can get that apical /r/ up to speed, particularly between two
vowels, a so called intervocalic /r/. For
everything we’re doing here in this step, be sure to use the apical /r/, not
the bunched /r/.

In some accents, words like Harry, Larry, parallel, barrister,
carry, marriage, arabesque, are not part of the square lexical
set, but rather they are part of the trap set.
Thus, Harry is pronounced as it is in the Harry
Potter films. In this setting,
the vowel in the initial syllable behaves very differently than it does in
the square set.
In the square set,
the vowel tends to be a centering diphthong, where the the initial vowel
offglides into an r-coloured schwa before the /r/ that begins the second
syllable, so it is pronounced “Har-ry,” IPA [ˈhɛɚ.ɹɨ].
When this group of words is part of the trap lexical
set, there is no /r/ quality in the first syllable, so we get “Ha-rry,” IPA [ˈhæ.ɹɨ].

For speakers who are used to using the square set,
this change of having no /r/ quality before the
syllable break is quite new and may present a challenge. To practice this style
of pronunciation, we’ll do a little drill to get the sense of the first syllable.
Let’s use Ha-rry as
our word to practise with. Start by saying hat a few times: hat,
hat, hat;
now say it without the /t/: ha,
ha, ha [hæ]. Now take
that syllable and add a "ree" [ɹi] on the
end: Ha-rry. Repeat it a few times: Harry,
Harry, Harry. Finally, try that list of words, applying this sound to
them: Ha-rry, La-rry, pa-rallel, ba-rrister, ca-rry, ma-rriage,
a-rabesque. Is it still a challenge? If so, try this next step. If not,
jump down to Nuh-Luh-Ruh-Luh.

Take that list of words and isolate the first syllable by adding a /t/ to
the end of the syllable. This will set you up to nail the first vowel sound
correctly, and then you can go back and do it without the /t/. So try:

Harry: hat, ha-, ha-rry, Harry.

Larry: lat, la-, la-rry, Larry.

Parallel: pat, pa-, pa-rallel, parallel.

Barrister: bat, ba-, ba-rrister, barrister.

Carry: cat, ca-, ca-rry, carry.

Marriage: mat, ma-, ma-rriage, marriage.

Arabesque: at, a-, a-rabesque, arabesque.

Nuh-Luh-Ruh-Luh

To work on the speed and agility of the tongue, we need to work the apical
aspect of the /r/. To set ourselves up, we’ll focus on the apex of the tongue
(its tip) with /n/ and /l/. To begin, let’s alternate between the two sounds,
using the vowel “uh,” [ʌ], with “nuh-luh-nuh-luh” [ˈnʌ.lʌˈnʌ.lʌˈnʌ.lʌˈnʌ.lʌ].
Make sure that your tongue is working like a flap, and that your jaw is relaxed.
Once you’ve got that going quickly, we can begin to work on replacing the /n/
with /r/.

The apical /r/, whose IPA symbol is [ɹ], should be
made just behind where the the /n/ is made, so test this assumption with an
alternation of “nuh-ruh-nuh-ruh” [ˈnʌ.ɹʌˈnʌ.ɹʌˈnʌ.ɹʌˈnʌ.ɹʌ].
If you’re bunching the /r/ you’ll find that your tongue is pulling back dramatically
on the /r/. Resist that temptation!

The next step is to alternate /r/ with /l/, “ruh-luh-ruh-luh” [ˈɹʌ.lʌˈɹʌ.lʌˈɹʌ.lʌˈɹʌ.lʌ].
Keep the action simple and delicate, focusing on the front of your tongue.
Keep the jaw relaxed.

Now, we’ll go to the complete drill, alternating “nuh-luh” with “ruh-luh”: [ˈnʌ.lʌˈɹʌ.lʌˈnʌ.lʌˈɹʌ.lʌ].
Start slowly, and then begin to build up the speed. If you’ve been rounding
your lips on the /r/, see if you can relax your lips, forcing the full action
to lie in the front of your tongue, not in the back of your tongue or in your
lips.

This is a great drill for developing greater precision with the front of your
tongue, and should be used frequently.

/r/ and /l/ are two of the more “difficult” consonants in English. Many non-native speakers struggle with these sounds, as they are not part of their first language. There are many variations of these sounds, so in this step we’ll explore these possibilities, and try some drills. Though they are made in areas of the mouth that are near one another, the action of the tongue on these sounds is fairly different.

First, let me explain that there are two significantly different ways in which /r/ in North American English is made. The first manner involves the action of the front of the tongue beginning to curl up and back, the start of a retroflexion or backward flip. The second manner bunches up the tongue at the back of the mouth. Similarly there are two /l/ sounds used in most forms of English around the world. The first manner involves the action of the front of the tongue, while the second manner raises the back of the tongue in the back of the mouth. So in these ways, /r/ and /l/ have a parallel pattern, though the way each one handles their two versions is quite different.

Let’s start by examining /l/. The two versions of /l/ exist in most speakers’ speech, though some accents of English, like Irish for instance, have only one. The first version arises when /l/ is at the beginning of a word or syllable when we get what is commonly called a “light L,” while the second /l/ appears at the end of a word or syllable, the so-called “dark L.” The main difference between the way these sounds are made has to do with the back of the tongue: it’s raised for the dark L, and not raised for the light L. In both light and dark L, the front of the tongue is doing a similar action: the tip of the tongue is behind the upper front teeth, while the sides of the tongue pull in, narrowing the body of the tongue. This lateral action gives /l/ its linguistic name, “lateral.”

To explore this narrowing action, start by making an /n/ sound, relaxing your jaw so that your tongue reaches up to seal off the oral cavity at the alveolar ridge. This upward reach is very similar to the action of /l/, except that it lacks the lateral narrowing. Feel the action of your tongue by going back and forth between /n/ and /l/, spending a few seconds on each sound: [nnnnnllllllnnnnnnllllllnnnnnnllllllll]. You should be able to feel that narrowing pretty dramatically.

The initial /l/ or “light L” is primarily a flap-like action, with the tongue moving up and down between that /l/ action and the open sound of a vowel. Try a series of “luh” syllables (IPA [lʌ]), tryinɡ hard to feel the action of the tonɡue slappinɡ down into the bottom of your mouth. Now, compare that to the action of the tongue on “nuh” (IPA [nʌ]). Now, alternate them: [nʌ lʌ nʌ lʌ nʌ lʌ nʌ lʌ nʌ lʌ]. Leaving your jaw dropped will help to make this action clearer, and help to isolate the tongue action. Finally, make a series of "luh"s, going up and down a five note scale, as classical singers have done for generations, isolating your tongue from your jaw.

Feeling the difference between the “light L” and the “dark L” can be hard for some of us because the action that makes the /l/ dark is a raising or arching of the back of the tongue near the soft palate, what linguists call “palatalization". This action is very similar to the action that makes the “ng” (IPA [ŋ]), where the back of the tongue rises and touches the soft palate; the palatalized /l/ doesn’t go so far as to touch the soft palate, and the soft palate stays raised so that the sound isn’t nasalized. The IPA symbol for “dark L” is an /l/ symbol with a palatalization symbol over top: [ɫ].

To try to feel the difference between “light” and “dark” we start with the word “all,” [ɑɫ] . Because we anticipate the “dark L,” the vowel is made further back than in other contexts, like in “odd” [ɑd]. You may be able to feel the this contrast if you go to say “odd” and then switch to “all” half way through, that is, make the [ɑ] and then go to the [ɫ] . Now try saying [lɑ ɑɫ] repeatedly, making sure to put a little pause between each repetition, so that you don’t hang onto the palatalization for the initial L. Can you feel the contrast? Now, consciouly keep the palatalization on the first sound, saying [ɫɑ ɑɫ] over and over — you should be able to feel the “dark” quality through the whole sound, affecting both the /l/s and the vowels.

Can you now make the “light L” in both the initial and final position? [lɑ ɑl] . You have to keep the vowels light, and just use the action of front of the tongue exclusively, not letting the back of tongue rise. To most English speaker, the second syllable won’t sound like the word “all,” unless you normally speak in that manner (e.g. if you are Irish.)

Now, let’s explore the /r/ sound. In English, there are two general types of /r/. Initial /r/, alone or in a consonant cluster like /br/, the /r/ is a true consonant. When /r/ is at the end of a syllable, after the vowel, the /r/ is what we call a "vowel /r/." English accents can be broken into two groups, ones where the vowel /r/ is spoken, known as rhotic accents, and ones where they are not, or non-rhotic accents. For the most part, accents in North America are generally rhotic (with a few exceptions, particularly in Deep South, and in parts of New England), while accents in Britain are non-rhotic (with many exceptions, of course: Cornwall, Ireland, etc.). The lexical sets in which vowel /r/ may appear include nurse, Letter, near, square, cure, force/north, start. For speakers of rhotic accents, the /r/ is not made much differently in either vowel /r/ or consonant /r/, though the energy of an intial or intervocalic /r/ is more forceful than a final /r/.

The /r/ sound is what linguists call an approximant, a sound where the tongue is near the roof of the mouth, but not so close as to create turbulence (so it isn’t a fricative sound). It’s as if the tongue bends the sound a little, and in so doing it modifies one of the formant energies of the vowel sound. We’ll look at the two primary ways that rhotic speakers make their /r/ sounds. The first is made with the tongue tip primarily, so I’ll call this version the apical /r/ (apical meaning that the sound is made with the front "apex" of the tongue.) In this version, we’ll start by putting our tongues in the /n/ position again, and then we’ll slowly drag our tongue tip back along the roof of the mouth, as if we were scraping peanut butter off the roof of our mouths. If we keep our tongues glued to the roof of the mouth, we’ll stay in a nasal position. For the sound to turn into an /r/ sound, we have to move the front edge of the tongue off the roof of our mouths, say a few millimetres (1/8"). If you merely pull your tongue off the alveolar ridge, as if you were just beginning to curl it back, you should get a very lightly /r/ coloured vowel sound. The IPA has two symbols for the vowel we’re dealing with here, a stressed one, and an unstressed one heard in words like nurse and better. When they are not r-coloured, the symbol is : [ɜ ə]; with r-colouring, those symbols have a little diacritic hooked on the upper right hand corner of the symbol: [ɝ ɚ]. It looks a little like a wing, so I call them "Flying Three" and "Flying Schwa." The non-rhotic sounds are essentially schwa [ə], though the stressed version, used in the nurse lexical set, /ɜ/ is sliɡhtly more open. If you need to clarify what schwa is, check out my post on it and its neighbour, [ʌ], heard in the strut lexical set.

The bunched /r/ is made with the body of the tongue balled up near the back of the mouth. The upper surface of the tongue is close to the roof of the mouth. Many speakers who bunch their /r/ sounds tend to round their lips. This makes the vocal tract longer, which modifies the sound of the /r/, so it’s more like the unbunched, apical /r/.

For speakers who need/want to have a strong sounding /r/, the bunched /r/ creates a very rich sound, but it is very much a back of the mouth kind of sound. Unfortunately, it is my experience that speakers who use a bunched /r/ find it more difficult to make a more subtle /r/, and variations with almost no /r/ colouring are a challenge. Also, when using a bunched /r/ for an intervocalic /r/, e.g. in words like Harry in an R.P. accent, it is harder to do a bunched /r/ as quickly and delicately as an apical /r/. Also, because the back of the tongue moves slowly, we often anticipate the bunched /r/, which colours the vowel that precedes it. This is appropriate for, say, a Texas accent, but not appropriate for others, such as GenAm or R.P. Bunched /r/ affects the preceding vowel the most in Centering Diphthongs, heard in the lexical sets near, square, cure, force/north, and start.

As I often do, I would argue that speakers who have one form of /r/ should train themselves to be able to make the alternate form of /r/. I believe that this makes accent acquisition much easier, and allows for greater accuracy when taking on an accent that features a different /r/ from your own. I believe that it generally easier to learn to do the bunched /r/ if you’re an apical /r/ speaker than it is for a bunched /r/ speaker to learn an apical /r/, based upon my experience of teaching both kinds of speaker since 1992. Your mileage may vary.

Bunched /r/

To learn to bunch your /r/, you need to make that /r/ sound as far back in your mouth as you can. I think the quickest way to learn this is to do a good Pirate ARRRR! sound. Most people know what this sounds like and can do it easily and feel how their tongue bunches up in the back. Once you’ve got that, try using that /r/ to initiate a word, such as red. The challenge, I find, for speakers new to the bunching is in doing it quickly enough. Try this little phrase, applying the bunched /r/ to the sound:

Red roses for Rhoda.

Now, we’ll try to apply this bunched /r/ to some vowels. We’ll start with a list of nurse words:

curb, turn, shirt, irk, firm, girl, twerp, verb, term, certain, heard, rehearsal, work, worst, scourge, attorney

Begin by saying the list of words as you would say them. Then, after saying a good Pirate ARRR, say each word in turn, lingering on the bunched /r/. Then, try making a more “normal” bunched /r/ (i.e. not quite so extreme) as you work your way through the list of words. As we’re easing off the intensity of the bunched /r/, do a variation where there is as little bunched /r/ sound as possible—that is, it still sounds like there is /r/ colouring, but it’s only slight. Finally, say these words with no bunching, just a central, non-rhotic /ɜ/ vowel (like you might hear in an R.P. accent.)

Now try applying that bunched /r/ sound to these words list of the lexical set words for the centering diphthongs. Some some or all of the following:

near: deer, here, interfere, cashier, fear, fierce, weird, beard, period, hero, dreary, weary

square: care, fair, bear, their, where, prayer, scarce, vary, Mary, various, area

cure*: poor, tour, allure, assure, demure, endure, lure, manure, mature, obscure, pure, bourgeois, gourmet

north/force: for, war, form, morn, important, torso, warn, aura, deplore, more, boar, floor, pork, court, Nora

start: star, part, arch, scarf, harsh, garb, large, carve, farm, barn, snarl, party, marvellous, heart, safari

* note that many speakers say all or some of these words as part of the north/force lex set, or as part of the nurse set.

Apical /r/

Now that we have the bunched /r/ out of the way, we can dig into the apical /r/. First, let’s make a heavily retroflexed /r/, where the tip of the tongue points back toward the uvula. Scrape the tongue along the roof of your mouth until the point is near where the hard palate meets the soft palate, which is about as far back as my tongue likes to go! Then peel the tongue off the roof of the mouth just slightly, so that there is about a millimetre of space between the roof of the mouth and the underside of your tongue (which is now up, because your tongue is flipped back.) Make a vowel sound here, and you should have a strongly /r/ coloured or rhotic vowel, [ɝ˞˞] (that’s a flying 3 with 3 rhotic hook diacritic marks). Try making this vowel with those nurse words from earlier:

curb, turn, shirt, irk, firm, girl, twerp, verb, term, certain, heard, rehearsal, work, worst, scourge, attorney

Now try them with the tongue not quite so far back, [ɝ˞], then just the "regular" amount, [ɝ], with the tonɡue tip curlinɡ back to just behind the alveolar ridɡe. Now try to do it with just a tiny amount of /r/, barely rhotic at all. Finally, do a non-rhotic [ɜ], as you might hear in R.P.

Next let’s try that apical /r/ on the centering diphthongs. Try varying your degree of rhoticity on the following word lists:

near: deer, here, interfere, cashier, fear, fierce, weird, beard, period, hero, dreary, weary

square: care, fair, bear, their, where, prayer, scarce, vary, Mary, various, area

cure: poor, tour, allure, assure, demure, endure, lure, manure, mature, obscure, pure, bourgeois, gourmet

north/force: for, war, form, morn, important, torso, warn, aura, deplore, more, boar, floor, pork, court, Nora

start: star, part, arch, scarf, harsh, garb, large, carve, farm, barn, snarl, party, marvellous, heart, safari

Really Larry Tongue Twister

So we’ve made it through the difference between bunched and apical /r/, and light and dark /l/. Now we’re on to a little tongue twister to tie the two sounds together. We’ll try a few variations, to try to compare and contrast dark /l/ with bunched /r/ and light /l/ with apical /r/. We’ll begin by going the backway round: using bunched /r/ and dark /l/ in all settings. Really Larry. Now try it with apical /r/ and a light /l/. Really Larry. Now try an apical /r/ with a dark /l/ on Really, and a light /l/ and a bunched /r/ on Larry. If you try to do a bunched /r/ and a light /l/ on Really with a dark /l/ and an apical /r/ on Larry, I think you’ll find that it’s extremely hard to do. Not impossible, but a real oral jungle gym to get around!

Next: Are You Speedy?

Chopping and Linking

Words that begin with vowels pose a challenge to actors. How to speak these sounds? When anything begins with a vowel, there is a tendency to initiate the sound with a glottal attack. This is done by closing the vocal folds together, and then building up pressure, and then blasting the folds into motion. Let’s try an experiment, so you can see what I mean. Say the first 4 vowel letters of the alphabet: A, E, I, O. (We don’t use "U" because its name actually begins with a consonant sound, which makes it much less likely to begin with a glottal.) Now, try it again, but this time, I want you to hesitate before each letter. ….A…E…I…O. Can you feel how you close off the folds, much like holding your breath, before each of those letters? When we encounter words that begin with vowel sounds, some people put this kind of glottal sound in front of each one them.

When I was first training as an actor, I was taught that glottaling a word that begins with a vowel was a very bad idea. Since that time, I’ve come to realize that glottaling isn’t the end of the world, and that, in some cases, using an occasional glottal sound can actually make your use of language clearer, more intelligible. An example of glottal attacks used in everyday speech is in the expression "Uh-uhn," meaning "NO." In IPA we’d transcribe that with the symbol for the glottal, which looks like a question mark without a dot. [ʔʌ ʔʌ̃]. However, I am convinced that most of us don’t need to use the glottal attack very often, and that most of the time, what we really need is to link to the word beginning with a vowel from the sound that comes before, whether that’s a consonant or a vowel.

Glottal attacks put a certain "punch" on the language, emphasizing those words that begin with a vowel. Sometimes this is necessary, but often, it’s not. We need to learn to use the whole word to catch the audience’s ear, rather than punching the word with a glottal. We need to embrace the thought that the idea and emotion behind a word is carried on the open sound as much as on the staccatto of the initial consonants.

We’ll look at a passage from Henry IV, part one, as he foreshadows his eventual betrayal of Falstaff, and reveals to the audience his duplicitous nature.

I know you all, and will awhile uphold
The unyok’d humour of your idleness.
Yet herein will I imitate the Sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder’d at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But, when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So when this loose behaviour I throw off,
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men’s hopes;
And, like bright metal on a sullen ground,
My reformation, glitt’ring o’er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
I’ll so offend to make offense a skill,
Redeeming time when men think least I will.

I love this speech. It’s one of my most favourite plays, and this speech is the first I ever fell in love with. I’ve gone through and put an asterisk in front of every word that begins with a vowel. I want you to go through and punch, via a glottal, everyone of the them. I’m sure you’ll find that some of them are not so bad, if you punch them, and others will leave you wishing you didn’t punch them. Have a go with the first part of the speech:

*I know you *all, *and will *awhile *uphold
The *unyok’d humour *of your *idleness.
Yet herein will *I *imitate the Sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother *up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please *again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder’d *at,
By breaking through the foul *and *ugly mists
*Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.

Of course, that’s not the only way to play it! In fact, I’d say that that’s a rather odd way of playing it. The opposite way of doing it is to link the initial vowels with the sound that precedes it. So, words like you ‿all will link together. In this case, it feels almost as if there was a little linking w between the two words. In other cases, like in I ‿imitate it feels as if there was a little linking y (IPA [j]) between the vowels. Of course, words that begin phrases that begin with a vowel are a different breed. They need to begin with a simultaneous attack, where the breath and the folds come together at the same time. In the passage below, I’ve linked the words with vowels, and I’ve put a tiny h before words that need a simultaneous onset. (This is just a code — they don’t need a big "h" sound!). Try reading that passage again, trying to link as best you can.

ʰI know you ‿all, ʰand will ‿awhile ‿uphold
The ‿unyok’d humour ‿of your ‿idleness.
Yet herein will ‿I ‿imitate the Sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother ‿up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please ‿again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder’d ‿at,
By breaking through the foul ‿and ‿ugly mists
‿Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.

I’ve made a list of all the linked words, including those with vowel links that come through w-ish and y-ish sounding links (I’ve used a superscript to denote those). Try them out of context of the speech:

oo-^wall, l-awhile, l-uphold, ee-^yunyoked, r-of, r-idleness, l-I, I-^yimitate, r-up, z-again, d-at, l-and, d-ugly, s-of.

Now you might thy the whole speech again. If there’s a word that you particularly want to emphasized really strongly, you can skip my linking advice and CHOP at it vigourously with a glottal. But I think you should be able to do the speech with no glottals whatsoever first, and then try it a final time allowing a few glottals where you believe you’ve earned them.

ʰI know you ‿all, ʰand will ‿awhile ‿uphold
The ‿unyok’d humour ‿of your ‿idleness.
Yet herein will ‿I ‿imitate the Sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother ‿up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please ‿again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder’d ‿at,
By breaking through the foul ‿and ‿ugly mists
‿Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
ʰIf ‿all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be ‿as tedious ‿as to work;
But, when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,
ʰAnd nothing pleaseth but rare ‿accidents.
So when this loose behaviour ‿I throw ‿off,
ʰAnd pay the debt ‿I never promised,
By how much better than my word ‿I ‿am,
By so much shall ‿I falsify men’s hopes;
ʰAnd, like bright metal ‿on ‿a sullen ground,
My reformation, glitt’ring ‿o’er my fault,
Shall show more goodly ‿and ‿attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set ‿it ‿off.
ʰI’ll so ‿offend to make ‿offense ‿a skill,
Redeeming time when men think least ‿I will.

Lists of words beginning with vowels are particularly hard, as it very possible, if there is any hesitation on your part, to glottalize them all. Try reading this list of words (that feature just about every vowel sound in English) without glottalizing any of them:

Easter eggs,
Itching powder,
Acorns
Elephants,
Apples,
Underwear,
Urchins,
Udon noodles,
Oak trees,
Awnings,
Olives,

Angels,
Eiderdowns,
Oil paintings,
Oceans,
Outdoor lighting,

Earmuffs,
Airports,
Oarlocks,
Artists.

It’s a very difficult list. But there is a trick to learning to do this: breathe in, and imagine breathing in the shape of the vowel you are about to say. Then, without hesitating, go straight into the word. Take a tiny breath to prep for the next words in the shape of its vowel sound, and on you go! It’s remarkable how well this works. If you don’t really need to breathe in, make sure your throat is open before you go on to the next word. Hesitating and closing your folds before you begin a word is death here. You need to keep that channel open so that you don’t close down.

Next: Reall Larry: R and L

Final consonants deserve a fair bit of attention in a speech warm-up. That’s because there is a range of articulations available to the actor that are, for most people, beyond what we do in everyday speech. As contemporary everyday speech tends to be informal and personal, rather than the more formal and public style often called for in classical texts, or the demands of a large playing space, it makes sense that actors have to put some effort into making the adjustment. As I’ve discussed in "Bouncing the Lips," there is an articulation form called unreleased where the final stop consonants, /p t k, b d g/ just stop—the aren’t released at the end of a phrase, or going into another sound. This is the default for many speakers. Of course, the other option is to release these consonants, and for the voiceless consonants, that means releasing them with aspiration. (The range of possibilities of voiced and voiceless consonants was discussed in the "Beginnings" step.)

Voiceless Consonant Endings

Think of saying "I’d like you to stop." In informal speech, most English speakers will not release the final /p/ (that’s [p ̚] in IPA). They’ll make the /p/, that is they’ll stop the sound with the action of closing the lips, but they won’t release the /p/ in a puff of aspiration [aɪd laɪk ju tə stɒp̚]. However, for the stage, that final release is important. Try saying that phrase again with a final /p/ that includes aspiration (that’s [pʰ] in IPA) [aɪd laɪk ju tə stɒp ̚]. That puff of air demands a greater commitment to the final /p/. Now, try it with a phrase ending in /t/: "It doesn’t fit," first with a stop, with no audible release [t ̚], and then aspirated, [tʰ]. Note that the other word-final /t/s don’t get the release, here, though they could if you were being really emphatic. Let’s try that: [ɪtʰ dʌzntʰ fɪtʰ]. See how the aspiration takes time, slowing it down while emphasizing the words? Finally, let’s look at an example with a final /k/ sound: "Pick up the slack, Jack." The /k/ at the end of "pick" must release into the vowel of "up," but it isn’t necessarily very aspirated because "up" is unstressed. The /k/ at the end of "slack" doesn’t have to be released, especially in casual speech, nor does the /k/ at the end of "Jack." Try aspirating both slack and Jack, and you might even try really overdoing the /k/ at the end of Pick, too: [pɪkʰ ʌp ðə slækʰ dʒækʰ]. Fully aspirated releases on all the final /k/ sounds is totally appropriate for a large theatre, though for those who are unfamiliar with playing at that scale, it often feels too extravagant. You have to work on this to get to the point where you’re more comfortable.

Voiced Consonant Endings

When a phrase ends in a voiced stop consonant, speakers are inclined to not release the sound. In the phrase "Bob is a slob," the /b/ in Bob releases into the following vowel. But the final /b/ in slob can easily be unreleased: [slɒb ̚]. To release that final /b/ may make it feel like you’re putting a tiny schwa [ə] at the end: [slɒbə]. That’s too much! Find the version where you release the /b/, but only just.

Try the same on the phrases, for /d/ and /g/ respectively:

"Brad is glad to see Fred."

"The rag is in the big bag."

These two sentences both feature linking stops (that release), stops before other stops (in glad_to and big_bag) where there is no release, and final stops that have optional releases. Some theatre voice people would insist on having a release in glad_to and big_bag though this sometimes gives it the sound of [ɡlædətu] or [bɪɡəbæɡ] if overdone. Try those phrases with a very subtle release, and see if you can do it. Then try the sentence with releases on those words and on the final words, Fred and bag. You really need to relish those sounds, indulge in them. Make a choice to justify why you would be so extravagant with those sounds. Sometimes people find that if they mouthe the words, as if they were trying to be heard through 3 in. of glass, that they are inclined to fully commit to those sounds. I suppose that one could think of reaching the aging audience of many classical theatre companies, whose hearing is beginning to go, as try to talk to them through sound proof glass. You really have to try hard!

It’s worth noting that most speakers devoice their final stops, so that "Brad is glad to see Fred" could essentially sound like "Brad is glad to see Fret," except that the vowel of Fred is sustained longer than it is in Fret. Try that out—compare "Slob-slop, Fred-Fret, Bag-back," but don’t release the final consonants. Notice how the second words have significantly shorter vowels, while the final consonant is pretty much the same? Committing to releasing final consonants helps to enhance the difference between the ends of these words, which is one of the principal justifications voice and speech coaches have for defending their preference for final releases. Try those comparisons again, but this time release the final consonants: "Slob-slop, Fred-Fret, Bag-back." Likely this feels a bit much wherever you are right now, but in a large theatre, it really pays off.

Continuants

Continuants are the opposite of stops (affricates, like "ch" /tʃ/, are combos of stops and continuants): they continue. Final continuants at the end of phrases often have a tendency to not continue very long. Really committing to them takes time and energy. Try this phrase: "Sing the hymn, Tom." To take the time for those final nasal consonants demands a certain relish. Final voiceless fricative continuants, including /θ, f, s, ʃ/ in English are often very short, and final voiced fricatives, which include /ð, v, z, ʒ/, also have a tendency to devoice. Apart from the length of vowel that precedes them, the final consonant in believe-belief is frequently very similar. Especially at the end of phrases, like "I don’t know what to believe," these final fricates can devoice strongly enough that they’re very similar to the sound at the end of a phrase like "That’s beyond belief." By choosing to commit to the voicing and the length of these final consonants /ð, v, z, ʒ/, we can make that contrast greater, which theoretically should make the meaning slightly clearer.

Consider the ends of lines in Shakespeare’s Sonnet 17:

Who will believe my verse in time to come
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts:
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say this poet lies,
Such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces.
So should my papers (yellowed with their age)
Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be termed a poet’s rage,
And stretched metre of an antique song.
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice in it, and in my rhyme.

We encounter a variety of endings worth playing. I’ll go through the lines, one by one, to discuss the choices we have.

1. come: take the time to fully voice the /m/.
2. deserts: the /ts/ needs to be crisp and quick.
3. tomb: relish the /m/ and recognize the rhyme with line 1.
4. parts: check off the /ts/ sharply.
5. eyes: the final /s/ of this word should be a voiced [z] sound.
6. graces: again, final /s/ needs to be [z]; it’s debatable whether it should be preceded by a schwa [ə] or a small-cap I [ɪ].
7. lies: needs a final [z].
8. faces: make it match the [z] on graces.
9. age: be sure that the [dʒ] doesn’t go to [tʃ].
10. tongue: take the time to really make the /ŋ/. Some people choose to release this sound with a tiny release; I think this is inappropriate.
11. rage: the same as age.
12. song: of course this doesn’t rhyme with tongue anymore, but the final consonant needs the length to really be heard.
13. time: again, give the final /m/ its due, let time take time!
14. rhyme: of course rhyme must rhyme with time; indulge that /m/ just like in time.

Taking the time to indulge your endings gives you a chance to relish the substance of the words. It’s the sound of words that carries their meaning in a large theatre, and committing to the sounds also requires a huge emotional commitment to match the scale of the words. Often we get emotional and take it personal and small. In the theatre we have to take the emotion and support it, share it and make it public. Giving vocally means sharing what’s on the inside with the ouside world, and that happens vocally more than anywhere else.

Next: Energized, De-Energized, and Over-Energized