The Power of Acting in Songwriting: Bringing Depth to Every Line

1. Finding the Motivation Beneath the Melody

A character without conflict is boring. I don’t know about you, but my life is never without challenges, and it’s often those struggles that shape who I am. The best characters in books, film, and TV come from a place of conflict, with motivations and actions that stem from real, often painful, experiences. Every word and movement has a purpose, reflecting something deeper.

In my songwriting, I've moved far beyond lyrics that just sound “cool.” Today, I aim for honesty—lyrics that resonate with something real. That’s why songs with depth stick with us. Writing something honest and raw, even if it’s uncomfortable, is what ultimately connects with people and stays in their heads. If it’s honest enough to scare you, you’re probably on the right track.

2. Building Emotional Authenticity

One of the most powerful techniques I’ve learned from acting is that meaning doesn’t always lie on the surface. In both acting and songwriting, there’s often a deeper story beneath the words—a subtext that can reveal the true feelings of a character, even when the lyrics might suggest otherwise.

When I’m writing or recording a song, I think about phrasing as if I’m delivering a line on stage. Sometimes the way you sing a word or emphasize a certain line can add layers of complexity that change the entire meaning. For instance, I might write a song that insists, “I don’t need love,” but sing it as a heart-wrenching ballad, with phrasing that betrays a sense of longing or vulnerability. The tone and delivery tell the real story: that maybe, deep down, love is something I desperately want.

This layering of emotions can also work the other way around. An upbeat, happy-sounding melody might mask serious or even dark themes. I’ve found it fascinating to play with this contrast in songwriting. A cheerful, catchy tune can talk about heavy topics—like current social issues—while staying upbeat. The contrast makes listeners take a second look, and it creates a rich, complex listening experience that encourages people to dig deeper.

My time in scene study and improv taught me that the way a phrase is delivered can hold just as much power as the words themselves. In music, as in acting, this layering of subtext and intentional phrasing invites listeners to feel the hidden emotions beneath the surface, making for a more engaging and authentic experience.

3. The Role of Musical Improv in Developing Vocal Control

Improvising both melody and lyrics simultaneously leaves no room for overthinking; in fact, the beauty of musical improv is that it thrives on spontaneity. When you’re on the spot, you can’t second-guess every word or note—you just have to let the music flow, setting up rhymes and structures that pay off by the end of the verse or chorus. In our improv troupe, we worked on exercises designed to make us quick on our feet. We practiced rapid rhyming drills, which not only kept us on pace but also improved our ability to think and create in real time.

At first, though, I noticed my voice wasn’t cutting through as clearly as I wanted. My previous experience recording in a vocal booth had me singing softly and with a breathy tone to capture a sense of vulnerability and intimacy. But in an improv setting, with a piano and other performers around me, that technique just didn’t carry enough power. I had to project more, and to do that, I needed stronger breath support.

Breathing exercises and vocal warm-ups became essential. We focused on using breath to its fullest, learning where to place sounds to get the most resonance and volume. These techniques helped me build a stronger, more present voice—one that could hold its own alongside other performers and instruments.

Looking back at my recording career, I can see how musical improv added new dimensions to my vocal style. My softer, breathy tone still has its place for conveying vulnerability, but now I can also draw on a brighter, fuller sound that brings more energy and impact. This range has been invaluable, letting me adapt my vocal delivery to match the intensity or intimacy that each song calls for.

4. Vocal Techniques from Improv that Enhance Song Delivery

There are many ways to convey emotion in a song, and one of the most powerful tools I’ve learned is using contrast in melody and phrasing. When a character or emotional arc shifts, it’s essential to let that transformation come through in the music. If the character’s emotions are changing or deepening, I might use counterpoint in my phrasing or melody to reflect that evolution. For example, if the verses are sung in a staccato style—short, clipped, and intense—I’ll switch to longer, legato notes in the chorus. This contrast not only signals the emotional shift but also invites the audience to feel it with me, exploring new layers in the song.

One often overlooked but powerful technique in improv is the pause. A well-placed moment of silence can say just as much as the melody, creating tension and allowing the character’s emotions to settle before moving forward. Holding that pause with intention adds gravity to the next line or phrase, making it hit even harder when it arrives. In improv, standing silently yet firmly in character can amplify the energy you bring to the next note or lyric.

Breathing exercises have been a huge asset when it comes to delivering these shifts, especially in parts that require smooth, legato phrasing or a bigger, more vulnerable sound. A chorus that moves from deep to even deeper notes, or a bridge that serves as the song’s most open, emotionally raw moment, demands strong breath support and control. With the right technique, I can let those sustained notes swell with emotion, bringing a sense of release and vulnerability that resonates with listeners. By mixing staccato, legato, pauses, and powerful breath control, I aim to create a dynamic and immersive experience that keeps the audience engaged and emotionally connected throughout the song.

5. Tapping into Vulnerability on Demand

One of the hardest parts of acting—and one of the most valuable—is learning to let yourself feel what’s happening in your body, moment by moment. We often enter a scene (or a song) with expectations or our own ideas about where it should go, but clinging to those expectations can hold us back from discovering something real. One of the biggest lessons I learned through acting is to simply breathe. Whether you're making a choice, responding to another character, or feeling stuck in the moment, just taking a breath can change everything.

Breathing helps you let go of preconceived ideas and opens you up to what’s actually unfolding. It grounds you, and that simple pause allows genuine emotion to rise to the surface, creating an authentic response that feels alive and unscripted. When I first started acting, I thought I had to force or “perform” emotions, but I quickly learned that if you just breathe and stay present, the feelings you need will often find you. And the beauty of it is, when you’re fully in the moment, people will interpret that quiet, attentive pause as a profound choice. Suddenly, you look like a theatrical genius!

This approach has had a huge impact on my songwriting and performance as well. Instead of forcing a feeling or a sound, I now trust that if I stay in the moment, breathing through each line, something genuine will emerge. Vulnerability isn’t something you can fake—it has to come from a place of honesty, and for me, that honesty starts with a breath. Whether it’s acting in a scene or singing a line in a song, taking a breath before diving in allows me to connect deeply with the moment and let the truth come through.

6. Connecting with an Audience: Lessons from the Stage to the Studio

Acting has taught me one of the most essential lessons in life and creativity: don’t second-guess yourself. Whether in a scene or a song, if it isn’t honest, it just won’t resonate. Self-doubt or overthinking might make things feel “safer,” but it ends up doing a disservice not only to the performance but also to the audience. People can sense authenticity, and when we hold back, we miss the chance to reach them in a meaningful way.

Whenever I allow myself to open up in this way, I find I’m not just creating art—I’m discovering new things about myself, working through old traumas, and connecting with others who see their own stories reflected in the work. Vulnerability creates a bridge between artist and audience, and each time I give a piece of myself, I’m reminded of how many people out there relate to those same feelings.

This mindset has become a part of my music as much as my acting. In both, I aim to bring my whole self, flaws and all, to each performance, trusting that the honesty will reach people on a deeper level. Art becomes a shared experience, with a ripple effect that brings connection and healing—not just for the audience, but for me as well. Acting has shown me that sometimes the bravest, most generous thing you can do as a performer is to let go of perfection and be real.