Don't tell yourself "no"

You’re too short, too tall, too handsome, too ugly or even too black (refer to the previous post “And one of them is black” for clarification.) Your “ah” vowel is out of whack, your coloratura isn’t clean enough, you’re late, behind and awful! These are all things that people (teachers, coaches, conductors, artistic directors, stage directors and sometimes colleagues) will say to an opera singer. We often feel like door-to-door salesmen pedaling our wares and like those salesmen, we get many a “no” and it can make us begin to believe things about ourselves simply because we’ve heard something from this person or that person. If someone told us we were a grapefruit over and over again, we just might start to believe it ourselves, but the truth remains. We are not grapefruits!

I used to think that being a 5”9” black lyric baritone was actually a negative. In a world filled with barihunks and sopranos who get gastric bypass in order to enhance their careers, it can be very easy to feel like one has to consider the physical perception of the role first before addressing the vocal demands. However, over the past couple of years I have found that I have been offered such a variety of roles ranging from Figaro in Le Nozze di Figaro to Figaro in Barbiere di Siviglia and many things in between. Now, I think I know my voice very well and I know what I can and cannot sing, but sometimes I find that I think I won’t be offered this role or that role not because I can’t sing it, but because I don’t “look” how the role is typically cast. However, does that mean if something feels great vocally, yet perhaps I do not conjure up the physical ideal that I should not offer it? Look at all the singers having great careers. Many of them sing a variety of stuff that perhaps they are not “ideal” for, but what makes them great is that they alter our idea of what the role sounds and looks like and it becomes their own.

Example: I went into a recent audition hoping to get Marcello as that seemed the most appropriate role in a season of Carmen, Rigoletto and La Boheme. I didn’t even offer the Toreador aria, not because I couldn’t sing it, but because I just didn’t think I had the “swagger” to perform it. The auditor asked me about the role and before responding I remembered my friend Henry’s advice about not telling yourself “no” when going into an audition situation. So instead of saying I didn’t think I was appropriate, I told them I had not had a chance to get the aria ready and didn’t want to present it until it was up to snuff. Lo, and behold, I got an offer to sing (to my great surprise) Escamillo in Carmen.

In opera we have the Fach system, which helps classify what kind of singer we are so that when companies hire us; they can know which roles are most appropriate. This system is very strict in Germany where it originated, but here in the US singers can bend and stretch here and there. I, myself, am essentially a high lyric baritone with a little bit of “meat” in the voice. However, I bring a certain personality and look to all the roles I do so it’s not uncommon that I will get offers for roles that I am more physically suited for versus where my voice wants to sit. A perfect example of this is Mozart’s Figaro. The Escamillo offer is actually the opposite in that I can sing it, but I never thought that in a universe of tall, good-looking baritones, I would be cast. (I know I’m cute and am at peace with my height, so don’t think I am putting myself down!) However, I never told myself, I wouldn’t be cast because I try to remember that the most successful artists are never the ones who look and sound like everybody else, but who have something special, different and unique.

Sometimes one has to learn that their “fach” is exactly what feels right in the voice. Everyone that hears me has a very specific thought of what I can sing (and by sing I mean roles that I am suited to vocally and physically). Often these perceptions are slightly conflicted and if I were a younger singer, could be very confusing. At this point, I feel very certain about what I can and cannot sing. I am leaning to let them tell me “no”, but am refusing to tell myself that simply because one or two people say so. No one else knows our voice better than we do (perhaps our teachers and coaches, but I still think ultimately we know best.) When a role is “right” our voices, bodies and souls just know.

So what is your point, Eric? I’ll tell you. We often see artists crossing “fachs” all the time as it offers the artist a challenge, a new outlook on their instrument and a chance to play another character. Will I make a career of singing Escamillo over Rossini’s Figaro? Most likely no, but I will not tell myself that I can’t! I will allow myself the pleasure of finding my inner Toreador without losing touch with my inner Figaro (or Marcello or Taddeo or whatever role I am playing at the time) and I will remember to always tell myself “yes!” Being a great artist is not only about doing what everyone thinks we can do very well, but sometimes doing what no one (expect ourselves) believe we can do and even if we “fail,” we grow because we have expanded our sense of selves and the perception of ourselves to those around us. And isn’t that what great artists do?

Peace,

Eric

Reclaiming our Artform

I am in the midst of rehearsals for a wonderful production of The Barber of Seville with the North Shore Music Festival in Port Washington, NY (about 30 minutes outside of the city). The company is fairly new and was started by baritone and Executive Director Daniel Klein who wanted to create an opera company that offers opportunities to up-and-coming singers, fulfilled a need for professional classical music on the North Shore of Long Island and could collaborate with local agencies to present a host of events. After a particularly active rehearsal a group of us went out for drinks to decompress (oddly the way it seems that singers decompress is to talk about singing!) Of course the topic of opera companies struggling came up and one of my colleagues talked about how singers need to reclaim our artform in order for it to survive.

Many of my friends are exceptionally talented singers who have reinvented themselves and not only rely on the “opera world” to give them performing opportunities. The funny thing is that the more control the artists seem to take of their own careers, the more it seems that opera companies take them seriously. Two friends of mine, soprano Adrienne Danrich and baritone Adelmo Guidarelli have found a way to stay connected to their operatic roots by creating shows that not only showcase their talents as artists, but as creatives. By writing, producing and/or starring in their own shows, they have given themselves a way to find their niche in the crowded opera world while also finding a way to generate interest (and income) in opera in a new and fresh way.

Both artists have created shows that reflect their personal interests and tastes. Adrienne’s shows This Little Light of Mine: The Stories of Marian Anderson and Leontyne Price and An Evening in the Harlem Renaissance are inventive one-woman shows that highlight history and serve as musical tributes to two great operatic legends as well as the writers and performers of the Harlem Renaissance that forged the way for many African American artists today. Using a combination of live performance, power point, recordings and some original music, she has created a genre called a “living documentary.” Both shows have been successful and it seems that by focusing on doing what she loves, Adrienne has found a way to interest opera companies in not only her talent, but her intellect.

On the opposite performance spectrum is baritone Adelmo Guidarelli’s Operation Opera. The show is an edgy, hilarious and fast-paced glimpse into the world of opera. Aiming to entertain and educate, the program has been a hit with school-age children, families, adults as well as opera lovers and those new to opera. Performances have been seen at the Edinburgh Festival in the UK, Symphony Space in NYC, Off-Broadway and part of Ryan Seacrest’s reality show “Bank of Hollywood.” Playing with the traditional and the unexpected, Operation Opera is a fun way to introduce people to opera while also giving those who know opera a chance to laugh at it though Adlemo’s wit and talent.

There are multiple artists performing their own shows throughout the country ranging from recitals with a twist, cabarets, educational programs and full-scale productions. As larger companies continue to go through economic upheaval and have to restructure, many artists are seeing this as an opportunity to create, reinvent and bring opera back to an intimate scale where the performer is the focus and the audience gets to be up-close and personal with the singer. For every story we read about opera companies diminishing, there should be stories about opera companies (small-scale for the moment) popping up looking to fill the gap left behind. By creating our own works, we thus ensure our artform, the one we have invested so much time and energy into, will continue to evolve and thrive. Go forth and create!

Peace,

Eric