Erika Bailey coaches voice and speech at the A.R.T.

Coaching voice and speech at the A.R.T.

Erika Bailey | Photograph by Stu Rosner

Like many young thespians, Erika Bailey once dreamed of acting Ibsen and Molière. Eventually, though, the years of auditions wore on her. “As an actor, you’re always asking for jobs,” she says. “You’re like, ‘Please, I need the Cheez-It commercial!’”—which wasn’t exactly the kind of poetic, “heightened text” she’d pored over while studying theater (at Williams), or acting (for an M.F.A. at Brandeis). Seeking more “authority” over her career, she left the New York City cattle calls and a day job at the Council on Foreign Relations, heading to a London conservatory to study the performance element she loved most: voice. Since then, Bailey has collaborated with actors playing roles from Andy Warhol to Mary Stuart, fine-tuning dialects (regional quirks) and “idiolects” (personal ones) and advising them on how to safely reach “vocal extremes” such as “screaming, shouting, vomiting, or even coughing a lot.” In 2014, after working in theaters from Kansas City to Broadway, she became the American Repertory Theater’s new head of voice and speech. (The move was a kind of homecoming: her parents met and married as Harvard students, and she spent her early years at Peabody Terrace, reading books aloud and in character.) Now, in addition to coaching A.R.T. productions, she teaches the basics of voice to seasoned performers, public speakers, and total novices alike. Atop anatomy and phonetics lessons, class can involve yawning, tongue-stretching, and rolling around on the floor. The full-body experience carries a deeper and more resonant lesson: Whether they love them or hate them, she says, “people think about their voices as kind of a given thing”—a fixed aspect of their identities. Bailey aims to instill a sense of power and play over that sound, and help them make their words carry.

Read more articles by Sophia Nguyen

You might also like

A theatrical reenactment explores a 1976 clash between science and democracy.

The Harvard Arts Medalist wants his smash-hit Cats revival to reach “as many young queer people” as possible.

Singer Elisa Smith’s whiskey-soaked voice and subversive feminism is part of the genre’s urban shift.

Most popular

All That’s Unseen charts the Harvard graduate’s uneasy journey from Appalachia to Cambridge and back.  

Court finds the government’s arguments that the University continues to violate civil rights laws unpersuasive.

Before a data center is built, Francesca Dominici and Le Xie aim to predict costs to the grid, the air, and the neighbors next door.

Explore More From Current Issue

Singer performing on stage with a guitar, wearing a hat, and surrounded by band instruments.

Singer Elisa Smith’s whiskey-soaked voice and subversive feminism is part of the genre’s urban shift.

Colorful abstract design resembling an octopus with intricate swirls and patterns.

Growing liver implants, mapping the sense of smell, and journalism at risk

Vibrant urban scene at dusk featuring a mural on a building and illuminated structures.

The planned opening of the Goel Center in Allston for performances will be in spring of 2027.