Gravitas: Timeless Skills to Communicate with Confidence and Build Trust

First published in 2024 by John Wiley & Sons Australia, Ltd

Level 4, 600 Bourke St, Melbourne, Victoria 3000, Australia

© John Wiley & Sons Australia, Ltd 2024

The moral rights of the author have been asserted

ISBN: 978-1-394-23733-3

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 (for example, a fair dealing for the purposes of study, research, criticism or review), no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, communicated or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission. All inquiries should be made to the publisher at the address above.

Cover design by Wiley

Cover Image: © ssstocker/Adobe Stock Photos

P55: Photo of ‘adlocutio’ pose: © Erin Babnik / Alamy Stock Photo. P88-93: Illustrations: Aldrete, Gregory S. Gestures and Acclamations in Ancient Rome pp. 8, 10–13, 16, 18–20, 37–38, Figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10, 11, 13, 15 © 1999 Johns Hopkins University Press. Reprinted with permission of The Johns Hopkins University Press. P102: Photo of gestures of Adolf Hitler: © Chronicle / Alamy Stock Photo. P108: Photo of ‘greeting’ gesture: © crisfotolux / Adobe Stock. P108: Photo of gesture of Donald Trump: © Richard Ellis / Alamy Stock Photo.

Disclaimer

The material in this publication is of the nature of general comment only, and does not represent professional advice. It is not intended to provide specific guidance for particular circumstances and it should not be relied on as the basis for any decision to take action or not take action on any matter which it covers. Readers should obtain professional advice where appropriate, before making any such decision. To the maximum extent permitted by law, the author and publisher disclaim all responsibility and liability to any person, arising directly or indirectly from any person taking or not taking action based on the information in this publication.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My long-deceased mother was obsessed with ancient Greece and ancient Rome. In fact, she was so interested that in her sixties, she went back and did a degree in ancient history, travelled extensively in Greece and Rome, and collected an astounding library. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I turned a blind eye.

Isn't that life? Sometimes it is right in front of you and you miss it (which is the point of this book!). So I'd like to take this opportunity to rectify the situation and say thank you to my mother for sharing the enthusiasm that eventually penetrated every bone in my body with fascination when the context of that work related to the area of gravitas (as opposed to my mother's passion for the visual). So, firstly I acknowledge my mother for her passion and perseverance.

Next, during my time singing, I came in contact with people who were incredibly important to me, with whom I worked and who helped mould my thinking about discipline, humour, the importance of the body and the art of singing, including Dame Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Sir Peter Pears, Sir Peter Ustinov and Professor Ellen Müller-Preis. All are now gone, but none are forgotten.

More recently there is a team of people around me to thank profusely who inspire and support on a daily basis.

First is my incredible colleague and friend Jane Anderson, who I admire tremendously and is a constant source of inspiration and support. Then there is Meldrick Advincula, whose aim — to be the best assistant in the world — is a goal he may have just achieved (and no, you cannot have him).

Thank you also to Emily Baxter for keeping the social media fire burning and Randal Killip for helping me get the message out to the broadcast media. I couldn't have done this without any of you.

The impetus for this book was born from a chance purchase many years ago of a wonderful book by Gregory Aldrete (Gestures and Acclamations in Ancient Rome) that captured my attention and sparked a fascination. This was the spark that began my journey to translate my ideas, break the modern-day paradigms that are holding us back from communicating with gravitas and produce something I hope will be useful to others.

Thank you to Kristen Lowrey, whose thoughtful editing and inputs helped me make sense of work that is not necessarily suited to the printed form. And thank you to the team at Wiley, with special mention to Lucy Raymond for having faith in me right from the start.

Across Australia, there are many friends who have helped to keep up my spirits (you know who you are), while my Yarra Valley family — Karen Maynard, Dale May, Maddison Horsley and Jack Horsley — have kept the home fires burning and been constant, faithful companions for whom love has no boundaries.

With my wonderful two children Oliver and Colette being fabulous and conquering the world in different parts of the globe, I thank you both for your support. And it would be remiss to leave out the ever-present passion of my life — Kangaroo Manor. If you can love a property, I love mine because it is alive with inspiration.

Apart from the 300 kangaroos, five koalas and many wombats I adore, Kangaroo Manor is also home to Gilbert and Sullivan, the happiest Golden Retrievers in the world; Charlie and Boots, two ridiculous donkeys; and Sir James and Two Stroke, my decades-long equine companions. Yes, they are horses, but they are friends and teachers too, and maybe being with them takes me to a time of warriorship in ancient Rome.

I'd also like to thank my clients, who play a major role in my life. You have been willing chess pieces in the game of piecing all this together, and I thank you for your trust and respect (the keys to gravitas).

I thank you all for allowing me to be creative, discover things others have forgotten and imagine things in our modern world — the things we must never forget.

PREFACE

How Opera Taught Me the Key to Gravitas

Would it surprise you to learn that the first nugget of an idea for this book came from opera — more specifically, from my life performing in the world of opera? But then I have come to believe that life is an opera or a fabula praetexta (an ancient Roman drama with a theme or legend from Roman history), and so I should not be surprised that opera is precisely where this idea started.

My career in singing was not about talent, but regime. Like an Olympian training, as singers we kept fit, we practised at length, we never sang popular music and we had few friends, if any, outside the world of classical music. Life was insular but tremendously fulfilling in the simple rewards of doing what we did well and being praised for it. It was a total discipline.

As a performer, I sang, studied, lived and made friends with some distinguished figures in the opera world, including those famed in the industry such as Sir Peter Ustinov and Dame Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, and was fortunate to be consumed by their worlds of excellence.

In Europe, we sang and communicated in at least five different languages, relying heavily on the use of signing to help our audience understand despite the language barriers. Whatever the language we were singing in, when we appeared on stage we worked to engage our audience at an intimate level, who were intrigued by the seeming magic of the world of music performance.

As Rodelinda in Rodelinda at the Aldeburgh Festival

The concentration was intense, the air was electric, the music was incredibly beautiful and the music-making was intoxicating, as we had the opportunity to work in close proximity for up to 20 hours a day. It is a world that many, as adults, wish they may have experienced but never had the opportunity to do so, and it was a privilege to have the ability to transcend to a space of complete freedom of sound that allowed me to sing unhindered for hours on end.

I was not a name in lights, but you have to be good to be offered such highly competitive roles in Europe. You also have to be consistent and have nerves of steel. In the end, this was both my failing and then my driving force to help others (I am reminded of the ancient phrase ‘physician, heal thyself’). And it also prompted my move away from performing and towards the corporate world.

In retrospect, the initial move for me from a career in singing opera to the corporate world may have appeared to be uncharacteristically heading in the wrong direction. But in reality, the lessons learned in one were just what I needed to help bring me to where I needed to be.

The Lessons of Opera

What I recall in retrospect were the skills of conductors who, although never making a sound, inspired others to rousing performances.

I remember the breathless shock of hearing international pianist Murray Perahia playing the introduction of a Mozart aria and being silenced by the beauty of his touch.

I remember discussing (and rehearsing) the importance of a millisecond pause in the music with Ian Burnside before a performance and practising the coordination of breath as we began a recital.

I remember Heather Harper's incredible agility and body strength, and Galina Vishnevskaya's magic as she wove evocative tales around us with her vivid imagination.

I experienced singers bringing a complete audience of several thousand people to tears. Although they stood on the stage, appearing as prima donnas (with an aura of self-interest), they were acutely aware of their effect on the audience, their coordination with the many other players on stage and the technical requirements of the staging, not to mention the music and emotion of the particular aria.

I was particularly fascinated by some famous names, who achieved these results with virtually no rehearsal, meeting their co-singers for the first time as they appeared in the spotlight. To actually pull off such a feat and produce a magnificent performance, true to themselves, to the music, to their audience, was something that was achieved through years of constant work and discipline.

Eventually, I brought these learnings with me, out of the world of opera and into the world of communication. I knew the world of discipline of performance, of excellence, of imbuing respect and trust, and this, I realised, was a legacy from the world of ancient Greek and Roman gravitas.

A Niche

My unique lens and perspective gave me new insight into the world of leadership and emerging leadership communication. This is where I have found my niche: working with intelligent leaders and emerging leaders who struggle with communication, confidence and imposter syndrome (that uncomfortable feeling you get when you think you're unqualified and incompetent). All that these leaders are missing — all that they need to truly realise their potential and create real impact — is the right set of skills.

Of course, leaving the world of opera for the corporate world meant starting from scratch, translating the gifts from that ‘other world’ into the present one, guided by the lessons from my different lens and the ancients.

I got a job at what was then Australia's largest company, quickly becoming part of the state-wide management team. Working with corporate executives, I witnessed how many of them expressed themselves in a dry, seemingly emotionless manner.

One day in Switzerland years previously, I had spent maybe 10 hours straight with Dame Elisabeth Schwarzkopf focusing on the amount of air to escape on two notes in an aria from the opera Der Rosenkavalier. Now, at work, I found myself dumbstruck listening to an executive stand in front of his group with no projection and a nasal drone. I thought to myself: ‘What strategy are you using here, mate?’ I just couldn't believe anyone could be so out of tune with their sound, which was such a stark contrast to the focus on voice and communication that I'd been used to.

And so the journey began. Applying my performance training, I began to consider that face-to-face presentations consisted of information ‘dumps’, based almost exclusively on a combination of two approaches: aggressive confrontation and stifling mono-tonality. The communication was generally either blunt and aggressive, or poorly structured and dull.

In 30 years in the corporate world, I've seen that the field of corporate leadership in Australia has gone through intense external pressure to develop catalysts that help leaders change an organisation. Those catalysts are at least partly achievable through honed interpersonal skills, including dialogue and ‘inspirational speech making’.¹ But there was and still is a gap in the skill of delivery. Delivery is not just a component of communication: it's a way of working on the speaker's connection with self. It's how leaders connect authentically with their people.

And decades later, the need is bottomless. Results from the 2023 Edelman Trust Barometer show negative progress and an ever-downwards spiral of leadership presence and the perception of trust by others.²

What my experiences in the performance sphere have taught me is that in many cases, the elements wholly embraced by the singing and performing professions precisely mirror what is missing in the way leaders struggle to communicate effectively today.

In singing, we studied languages voraciously — looking at each word, the literal meaning of the sentence, the overall meaning of the sentence, the linguistics and the flow of the sentence — and then devised ways to match the pitch and the emotion. We studied the composition of a score and rehearsed. There was a focus on scenery, on lighting, on stage movement, on body flexibility and on working with others, and then there was even more rehearsal. The focus for change was on direct, immediate responses, and there was a constant recognition of the need to battle the unconscious mind to facilitate transformation. This was about building trust in our sound and respect for every aspect of what was conveyed. This was gravitas.

But how could I instil these skills in those wishing to communicate with others when the profession and language of opera seemed so distant from everyday needs?

And then, like a gift from the heavens, I discovered Cicero, Quintilian and many other ancient scholars. The adage ‘everything old is new again’ seemed to ring true. Reading their work was like music to my ears, seeing that literally everything they said supported everyday communication as a performance art. Their work describes and differentiates the work towards gravitas through Aristotle's five canons of rhetoric and provides practical, applicable and immediately accessible skills.

Here was a formula. Here was a deep understanding. The millennia have not dulled the relevance of the ancient experts. Here is everything we need to move forward in today's world.

INTRODUCTION

Donald Trump prepares to enter the stage at the National Golf Club in Bedminster, New Jersey, following his arraignment in Miami. He had entered a not guilty plea to 37 counts related to allegations that he kept hundreds of classified documents after his term of office expired.¹

Back in New Jersey, the gathered throng are at a fever pitch when a loud, deep voice announces (a presupposition that is a stretch, at best): ‘Ladies and gentlemen. The next President of the United States!’ The audience, coaxed by a core of vocal leaders, are transfixed as they chant together ‘USA! USA! USA!’ Trump finally enters, stops in the middle of the doorway, and gestures with his arms open wide and hands facing forwards. Behind him, the flags of the nation provide a superb photographic opportunity.

Whether you like Trump or not is a personal opinion (this is certainly not a book about politics!), but it is undeniable that when he is on stage, the whole event is choreographed around his delivery. He is able to