A few weeks ago, I received a message that touched me deeply. A choir singer told me that she didn't dare join her local choir because she couldn't read music. «I sing out of tune as soon as I see a score,» she wrote to me. «Yet when I hear a song on the radio, I can sing it back without any problem.»
You may recognise this situation. That little voice whispering that you don't belong because you can't read music fluently. That you should learn music theory first before you start. That «real» musicians can all read music perfectly.
What if we completely reversed this idea?
The ear, an instrument you already possess
When you sing in the shower the tune that's been stuck in your head since this morning, what exactly are you doing? You're reproducing the pitches, rhythms and nuances that your ear has picked up and memorised. You instinctively adjust when you feel it sounds wrong. You naturally find the emotion of the piece.
All of this is already music. Music that is lively, spontaneous, and soulful.
Reading sheet music is something else entirely. It's a code, a practical tool for conveying information. But between you and me... have you ever seen anyone fall in love with a melody by looking at notes on a stave? I haven't. You fall in love with a melody by hearing it.
Your ear is not a secondary instrument that needs to be validated by music theory. It is your primary instrument. And like any instrument, the more you use it, the more refined it becomes.
This fear of the fake that paralyses us
«But what if I sing out of tune?» That's the question that comes up most often. As if singing by ear automatically meant singing inaccurately.
However, let's look at it another way. When you speak, you constantly adjust your intonation without thinking about it. You instinctively know that your voice rises when you ask a question and lowers when you make a statement. You automatically adjust your volume so that you can be heard in a noisy place and whisper in a quiet space.
All of this is already accuracy. A dynamic, lively accuracy that is constantly adapting.
In singing too, the ear can make micro-adjustments. It perceives harmonic tensions and senses when two voices are perfectly in tune with each other. It even develops this fascinating ability to anticipate where the melody is going, to guess the logical continuation of a musical phrase.
I remember a rehearsal where we were working on a motet by Poulenc. One of our basses, who couldn't read music, was the first to notice that we were slightly out of sync at the end. «Something's not right,» he said. He was right. His ear, unencumbered by visual references, had picked up on an imbalance that we, bent over our scores, had not noticed.
Learning by listening: a tradition that is being lost?
In the history of music, singing by ear is nothing unusual. For centuries, it was even the norm. Singers in the Baroque era ornamented their melodies instinctively, adding embellishments according to their inspiration at the time. They improvised within the framework of a style, of course, but they improvised nonetheless.
Even today, in jazz, traditional music and gospel, we learn first by listening, imitating and appropriating. We develop this precious ability to feel music from within, to understand it in its own logic rather than through an external code.
You might say, «Yes, but in a classical choir, you have to follow the score!» Of course. But there are a thousand ways to make it your own. Some people analyse the notes visually. Others listen to their part over and over again until they have memorised it. Still others rely on the harmonies to find their melodic line.
No method is superior to the others. They are complementary.
The superpowers of a musical ear
When you develop your listening skills, you discover abilities you never knew you had. For example, the ability to identify your role in the whole. Are you singing the main melody? A counter melody? A bass line that supports the harmony? Your ear knows, even if you can't name the exact chord that's being played.
There is also this ability to grasp the structure of a piece without looking at the score. You sense that a climax is approaching, that the bridge is coming to an end, that the chorus is about to return. Your ear anticipates, preparing you for changes in energy, intensity and colour.
And then there's that direct connection with the emotion of the piece. When you're not focused on reading the music, you immediately grasp the expressive intention. You instinctively know whether to sing more softly or more firmly, whether the passage calls for restraint or momentum.
Want to take your voice to the next level?
From chorister to choir, is the helpful guide that transforms your doubts into music. Adopted by over 600 enthusiasts.
«Finally, a book that speaks my language!»

Developing your ear, in practical terms
Want to improve your listening skills? Here are a few simple, hassle-free tips.
Listen to yourself singing. Record yourself from time to time with your phone. Not to judge yourself, but to hear your voice «from the outside». You will discover things: that little hesitation you didn't notice, that slightly drawn-out note, that phrase that sounds particularly good. It's valuable feedback.
Sing without a reference instrument. From time to time, try singing without a piano or backing track. Start in the key that comes naturally to you and see where your ear takes you. You may discover that your natural range is not exactly what you thought it was.
Listen to the other desks. During rehearsals, when it is not your turn to sing, listen carefully to the other voices. Try to understand how your line fits in with theirs. This panoramic listening greatly enriches your perception of the whole.
Work in small strokes. Rather than trying to learn your entire part at once, isolate the passages that are causing you trouble. Listen to them on repeat, sing them in the shower, hum them while walking. Your ear will gradually become familiar with the intervals and remember them naturally.
Experiment with micro-adjustments. When singing with others, have fun slightly altering your pitch, timbre, and intensity. You will feel how these small changes affect the overall balance. It is fascinating and very educational.
When the ear guides technique
One of the most disturbing things I have observed is how much the ear can correct technique. I have seen singers instinctively adjust their vocal placement, breathing, and resonance simply because they heard that «it sounded better that way».
Your ear can recognise a balanced sound. It can tell when the voice is well supported, when the resonators are working harmoniously, and when articulation is clear without being forced. It guides you towards a more accurate placement, often more effectively than a series of technical instructions.
Of course, technique remains important. It gives you tools, benchmarks, and ways to be more precise. But technique without an ear is like a satnav without a destination. It tells you how to do something, but not always why or what to aim for.
The ear, on the other hand, gives you direction. It tells you: «This is beautiful. This is vibrant. This is moving.»
This freedom of gaze
Do you know what changes when you dare to look up from the score? Everything. First of all, your connection with the conductor. You pick up on his intentions in real time, his last-minute adjustments, his invitations to express yourself. You follow his breathing, you anticipate his gestures.
Your relationship with other singers also changes. You hear them better, you instinctively adjust to their breathing, their attacks, their nuances. You develop that rapport that makes an ensemble truly become a choir.
And then there is this different presence. When you are no longer absorbed in deciphering the music, you can fully inhabit your singing. You can play with colours, explore emotions, take expressive risks.
Does that mean we should throw away all our sheet music? Of course not. But perhaps we can view it differently. As a starting point rather than a constraint. As an invitation to explore rather than a strict set of instructions.
The art of natural memorisation
How can you remember a piece of music without learning it by heart mechanically? The ear has its own strategies.
First, she identifies the structure: that recurring phrase, that developing motif, that harmonic progression that brings you back to the tonic. She identifies the landmarks: that higher note that marks the climax, that melodic fall that signals the end of a section.
She also associates melodies with words, when there are any. Not just their meaning, but their sound, their natural rhythm, their accents. She turns these links between text and music into solid anchors for memory.
And little by little, she weaves a network of connections that makes the piece familiar, predictable, habitual. You know what comes after a certain passage, you anticipate a certain harmonic change, you sense a certain modulation approaching.
This is called appropriation. The piece becomes a little bit yours. You carry it within you differently than a sequence of learned notes.
Beginners have a head start
Paradoxically, those who discover choral singing without any prior musical training sometimes have an advantage. They approach music without prejudice, without that slight tension that can arise from the confrontation between what one reads and what one hears.
Their listening is unspoilt, receptive. They allow themselves to be surprised, moved, guided. They develop this precious ability to trust their musical instinct.
I have seen beginners naturally pick up on subtleties of interpretation that experienced readers took time to grasp. Simply because they listened without filters, without pre-established analytical frameworks.
So if you find yourself in this situation, don't see your «lack» of training as a handicap. See it as a treasure to be cultivated. Your ear is fertile ground, ready to welcome all kinds of discoveries.
Want to take your voice to the next level?
From chorister to choir, is the helpful guide that transforms your doubts into music. Adopted by over 600 enthusiasts.
«Finally, a book that speaks my language!»

Towards richer listening
In the end, what really matters? Knowing how to name intervals or feeling them? Identifying chords or inhabiting them? Reading music quickly or singing with soul?
I'm not saying you have to choose. The two approaches can coexist and enrich each other. But perhaps we can reverse the order of priorities. Put the ear at the centre, and see music theory as a useful complement rather than a prerequisite.
Your ear already tells you so much. It can recognise the beauty of a chord, the emotion of a melody, the harmony of an ensemble. It guides you towards what sounds right, what resonates, what moves you.
Trust it. Develop it. Refine it. Not to replace the score, but to transcend it. To go beyond the notes to what really makes music: shared emotion, common vibration, that mysterious alchemy that transforms individual voices into a choir.
And if that chorister who wrote to me reads this, I would like to say to her: join this ensemble. Your ear is already your greatest asset. Your ability to instinctively sing the melodies you hear is exactly what a choir needs. You will bring that freshness, that spontaneity, that genuine listening that is sometimes lacking in those who get lost in the notes.
You can learn music theory by singing if you feel like it. Or not. The important thing is that you bring your voice, your ear, and your natural musicality. The rest is a bonus.
Music awaits you. It never asked for an entrance diploma.
Corentin

2 comments
Noémie Gachet
Well done, Corentin, for the subtlety of your analyses and the support they provide in helping us to enjoy music and experience its emotional power. I often read your work with pleasure and interest.
Corentin Richard
Thank you very much, Noémie, for your message. I am touched to know that my thoughts resonate with you and can accompany you on your musical journey. That is also why I write: to share and, sometimes, to open a small door to more enjoyment and freedom in music.
Corentin