Every opera engagement is an opportunity to make music. Making music is what we’ve worked so hard to achieve and when I am in the process of making music I find that, at least for me, I connect with something far greater than myself. I love when the stars align and you get to perform amazing music with great colleagues in a wonderful theater. The amount of time and energy we all invest is immeasurable, and yet, when we are on that stage, in the moment, it seems like the world is perfect.
I am writing this, because I needed to remind myself of those moments. I have been VERY blessed to be part of some very special productions and while they may not seem that memorable to others, they are tucked away in my heart constantly whispering to me as a gentle reminder of why I have sacrificed so much. It also reminds me that I am truly lucky to have those experiences. So, in the spirit of gratitude, I am acknowledging several things that have been in my heart and that I’ve wanted to express.
Today I thank all those who have hired me. There are thousands of choices out there and while I always believe I am the best person for the job in many instances, I know that selecting just one person can be one of the most difficult decisions those who cast can make. So to all of you who said “yes.” I say, “thanks!” I also want to thank those of you who said “no.” I realize that not everyone is going to love my talent, but I have decided to take each “no” as a “no, but keep working because you are great” or a “no, we love the voice, but we’ve decided to go in a different physical direction,” or “no, it’s not you, it’s us.” Whatever the reason for the “no,” I still am grateful because I was heard and if I am proud of my work, then I am doing well. Truth be told, it does take me several days to get beyond the initial sting of the “no.” But every artist hears it, even the greatest ones, so in truth, I am in pretty good company.
Today I am grateful for the wonderful, generous, and hilarious artists with whom I’ve had the pleasure of sharing the stage. Many of you inspire me whether it is your perfectly beautiful voice, your phenomenal acting, or your miraculous ability to light up a room with your personality. (I have been fortunate to work with folks who have all these elements in place!) I also thank those of you who have been kind enough to encourage what I am doing onstage or off and for those who, intentionally or unintentionally, have taught me more about myself. These people can seem like our worst enemy, but in truth often give up valuable insight into who we are as people, what we stand for, and what we believe about our art. To you all, I say a hearty thanks!
I want to show gratitude to the fantastic composers who have written such magnificent masterpieces that have stood the test of time. Beyond the spectacular music, are rich and interesting characters making unwise, unwitting and unwelcome decisions. But really, who wants to see a full-length opera where all the characters make good choices for four hours? I thank you all for your pleasures, your pains and most of all, your humanity. I find it cathartic to work through many of my own “things” through these great operas which range from romantic, bel canto, grand opera, verismo and contemporary.
Finally, I am grateful for the love and support of my husband, my family and friends and you, dear readers, who have been on this journey with me over the last few years. After writing about being back in the game for the last few years, I am now going to focus on changing the game. After taking six years off and being back for a little over five, I am no longer the Kimmy Schmidt who came out of the bunker trying to acclimate, but the Kimmy Schmidt who is surviving and finding that I am truly unbreakable!
But in the spirit of my last post "Evolution," I am going to move in a new direction. Know that I have a wonderful new concept in the works and I hope you, dear reader, will follow me as I launch Five Questions with Eric set to make its debut in the fall!
Peace,
Eric
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Evolution
It all began with one of the Twenty-Four Italian Songs and Arias: “Gia il sole dal gange.” There I was, a freshman singing in front of a bunch of strangers, in a foreign language and in a “new” voice that I barely understood. It was, needless to say, not my best moment. However, sitting in that audience were two people who would have a strong influence on my current career; one a future voice teacher and the other, a singer/stage director, turned General Director for an opera company. Cut to the present where, thanks to that General Director, William Florescu, who was one of those audience members, I recently made my Florentine Opera debut.
A lot has transpired since my undergraduate days where I barely even understood the mechanics of my voice to where I an now. I work extremely hard to be a solid technician, to enhance the language and to craft a believable, yet interesting character. All of this while trying to remain sane in my “real” life. (Or is my real life the stage and my dream life at home where I can just “be?” A blog for another time.)
I have always felt like I was playing “catch-up” in regards to other singers. I didn’t start voice lessons until I was eighteen. I had to learn the basics of breath support, legato, diction and that all elusive “placement” while trying to figure out who I was. I spent a great deal of time during my undergrad, searching for answers, but not always in the classroom. Once I got to grad school, I thought I had a good handle on my voice, but I soon found out that there were so many other items to contend with. I heard that my voice was too this, not enough of that, my languages were not this, or my legato was not that, etc…I also felt, for the first time, what “competition” really was and that not everyone had my best interest at heart. At the time, all I wanted to do was get out of school and sing professionally because I was certain that in the “real” world, they playing field would be level, right?
I was very fortunate to have a great teacher and coach in grad school and I had a decent technique. But for the first time, I started having severe anxiety about my singing. I could barely phonate without feeling the pressure to be “perfect” and I would get so wound into knots that singing became a very difficult chore. In my mind, I knew it was all the “criticism” I was hearing from teachers, coaches, and other singers. It was doubly confusing because I was getting hired to sing comprimario roles with Opera Columbus. I couldn’t understand how some thought I was ready for prime time, while others were quick to pick apart everything I was doing.
A wonderful break through (or break down) came while performing on a masterclass. The stakes, at least in my mind, were pretty high. A coach who played for someone of great importance was working with singers and I was invited to participate. I sang my standard aria “Bella siccome un angelo.” (I had a long and tumultuous relationship with this aria as it was my first operatic piece and I was still trying to “get it.” In hindsight, I realized that I never truly loved the aria, but it was given to me to teach me something. And boy did I learn quite a bit about wrestling with a piece that doesn’t speak to you.) It was my turn to sing and I made my way through the aria. The coach was very kind and was simply offering advice on keeping all my vowels more in line with each other (something I now strongly believe in to this day.) The combination of the intimacy of the space, my own neurosis and the “judgmental” looks of my colleagues and the voice faculty caused the room to spin. My left leg started to shake, my throat closed up and I could barely squeak out a tone. I excused myself as I could feel a huge amount of sweat begin pouring off my face. I went to the restroom at the back of the space and before I knew what was happening, I was crying uncontrollably, shaking and heaving for air. My “panic attack” lasted for a good ten minutes as I sat on the floor trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I collected myself and made my way home.
As has been my luck, God*(* the Universe, fate, divine intervention, etc…) intervened. I was set to meet a friend the next day for coffee. It was during that wonderful coffee session that he introduced me to Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way.” After a couple of days, I bought a copy and began the 12-week process of discovering who I truly was as an artist.
The biggest lessons I learned from that experience were: discipline (journaling everyday-I still journal quite a bit), refilling the well (it’s impossible to give as an artist if one does ‘refill’ one’s self with inspiring artistic experiences), to retrain what the “inner critic” in my head was saying, and to protect the “artistic child” that needed nurturing and love not constant criticism. This was the first true step in my artistic evolution.
A big part of my training came in the way of doing a TON of regional opera company young artist programs singing everything from small roles in mainstage performances to doing every kind of school program imaginable (an operatic version of The Three Little Pigs, anyone?) I was now a working opera singer, but I wanted to get to the “next level.” I was in the YAP at a Level 2 company and was called on to sing one of the mainstage performances of a role I was covering. I did it without nerves and actually truly enjoyed the performance and was rewarded with wonderful applause and a great review. But after the performance was over, I sat in my lonely room feeling empty with no one to celebrate the event. It was very tough to feel so high and a few short hours later, so low. However, that was another important lesson: one must find joy not only on the stage, but in their life off the stage in order to be happy.
Around that same time I was hyper aware of all the "limitations" I possessed. I kept feeling like I “couldn’t, shouldn’t, or wouldn’t” make it in the business and, as is often the case, we see the world as we believe it. I found myself feeling less and less able to imagine a sustainable career in opera and so, after cancelling a few upcoming contracts, I quit. I had a lot of sadness coupled with confusion and spent a year “finding myself” working at an art gallery and for an events company. I was living a “normal-ish” life surrounded by creatives, but not really being one myself. I never stopped loving opera and often found myself surfing the web wondering who was singing what and where. It was then that I ran across a job vacancy at Kentucky Opera. They were looking for a Manager of Education Programs. I knew that this was indeed divine intervention at work again. I had been a Young Artist at Kentucky and liked Louisville quite a bit. I applied and got the job. I stayed for a couple of years before another “miracle” happened. I was contacted by Opera Columbus. They were looking for a Director of Education. This was perfect-I would get to do a job that I loved and live in my hometown with all my friends. I stayed for nearly four years, but the Universe had something even greater in mind for me.
While I was officially “not a singer,” opportunities kept arising whether it was appearing as a guest artist in a production of “The Mikado,” singing in a church choir or the moment that shoved me back into singing as a career. The Artistic Director of Opera Columbus needed a Mandarin in their upcoming production of “Turandot.” I accepted and was lucky to meet soprano Othalie Graham who questioned why I was not singing? The only thing I could think of was fear. I returned to my Artists Way and learned another important principal, that of synchronicity. It seemed too coincidental that I found a job at Kentucky Opera and when I was ready to move on, an opportunity at Opera Columbus arose. It was also too much by chance that they would ask me to sing a mainstage role where I would happen to meet an artist who asked the one question I was afraid to ask myself.
Again, fate came calling when I found an audition notice for a National Tour of “Porgy and Bess.” Of course I knew the hit tunes, but I did not know the full work. I flew to New York just to “try” and after a second round of auditions, was cast in the role of Jake! On a “crazy” whim, I quit my job, went to New York for rehearsals and embarked on a four-month tour. I will never forget the amazing performers, wonderful production, the time in New York and the sheer joy of singing everyday (and getting a decent fee for it!) It was amazing that the one thing that I had trained for, that had caused me so much angst and fear, was now the thing that was making me happier than I had ever been. That was the next big step in my evolution. I had returned to singing, but with a different point of view. I now loved it and more than that, I had a deep appreciation and gratitude because I knew that from being on the other side of the table, there were thousands of singers who would love to be where I was. No matter what little “irritating” things that would happen (and you can imagine what a bunch of singers and orchestra players on a bus traveling the country might bring about), I was not going to complain because I was “living the dream!” Along the way, I connected deeply with my artistic self. There are many opinions on who we should be, but only we know our voices best and the thing we are called to do is bring our truth to every role.
The transition from the tour to working with a fair amount of regularity has been challenging and most singers don’t have the luxury of working full-time as a singer. It comes with many sacrifices-missing important family events, constantly investing one’s money in auditions, lessons, coachings, and all the other elements of maintaining a career, high pressure to deliver at a world-class level, occasional loneliness, and sometimes people outside of the business not really understanding all the work that goes into making it seem “easy.” But I have found that the more I continue to love the craft (the technical, dramatic, and linguistic elements) coupled with a sheer reverence for the composers/librettists who create these masterpieces in which I get the privilege to try and bring to life, the more rewarding it is. The most important thing I try to remember every moment is to love what I am doing.
If I could give my 18 year-old self some advice, it would be: fall in love with being a singer. Fall in love with the work as much as the performance and always remember that you are blessed to have this talent. It was given to you in order to share it with others. Yes, this field is competitive, but the biggest competition one has is one’s self. And once that “inner critic” is silenced, then the “artistic self” can flourish!
Peace,
Eric
A lot has transpired since my undergraduate days where I barely even understood the mechanics of my voice to where I an now. I work extremely hard to be a solid technician, to enhance the language and to craft a believable, yet interesting character. All of this while trying to remain sane in my “real” life. (Or is my real life the stage and my dream life at home where I can just “be?” A blog for another time.)
I have always felt like I was playing “catch-up” in regards to other singers. I didn’t start voice lessons until I was eighteen. I had to learn the basics of breath support, legato, diction and that all elusive “placement” while trying to figure out who I was. I spent a great deal of time during my undergrad, searching for answers, but not always in the classroom. Once I got to grad school, I thought I had a good handle on my voice, but I soon found out that there were so many other items to contend with. I heard that my voice was too this, not enough of that, my languages were not this, or my legato was not that, etc…I also felt, for the first time, what “competition” really was and that not everyone had my best interest at heart. At the time, all I wanted to do was get out of school and sing professionally because I was certain that in the “real” world, they playing field would be level, right?
I was very fortunate to have a great teacher and coach in grad school and I had a decent technique. But for the first time, I started having severe anxiety about my singing. I could barely phonate without feeling the pressure to be “perfect” and I would get so wound into knots that singing became a very difficult chore. In my mind, I knew it was all the “criticism” I was hearing from teachers, coaches, and other singers. It was doubly confusing because I was getting hired to sing comprimario roles with Opera Columbus. I couldn’t understand how some thought I was ready for prime time, while others were quick to pick apart everything I was doing.
A wonderful break through (or break down) came while performing on a masterclass. The stakes, at least in my mind, were pretty high. A coach who played for someone of great importance was working with singers and I was invited to participate. I sang my standard aria “Bella siccome un angelo.” (I had a long and tumultuous relationship with this aria as it was my first operatic piece and I was still trying to “get it.” In hindsight, I realized that I never truly loved the aria, but it was given to me to teach me something. And boy did I learn quite a bit about wrestling with a piece that doesn’t speak to you.) It was my turn to sing and I made my way through the aria. The coach was very kind and was simply offering advice on keeping all my vowels more in line with each other (something I now strongly believe in to this day.) The combination of the intimacy of the space, my own neurosis and the “judgmental” looks of my colleagues and the voice faculty caused the room to spin. My left leg started to shake, my throat closed up and I could barely squeak out a tone. I excused myself as I could feel a huge amount of sweat begin pouring off my face. I went to the restroom at the back of the space and before I knew what was happening, I was crying uncontrollably, shaking and heaving for air. My “panic attack” lasted for a good ten minutes as I sat on the floor trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I collected myself and made my way home.
As has been my luck, God*(* the Universe, fate, divine intervention, etc…) intervened. I was set to meet a friend the next day for coffee. It was during that wonderful coffee session that he introduced me to Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way.” After a couple of days, I bought a copy and began the 12-week process of discovering who I truly was as an artist.
The biggest lessons I learned from that experience were: discipline (journaling everyday-I still journal quite a bit), refilling the well (it’s impossible to give as an artist if one does ‘refill’ one’s self with inspiring artistic experiences), to retrain what the “inner critic” in my head was saying, and to protect the “artistic child” that needed nurturing and love not constant criticism. This was the first true step in my artistic evolution.
A big part of my training came in the way of doing a TON of regional opera company young artist programs singing everything from small roles in mainstage performances to doing every kind of school program imaginable (an operatic version of The Three Little Pigs, anyone?) I was now a working opera singer, but I wanted to get to the “next level.” I was in the YAP at a Level 2 company and was called on to sing one of the mainstage performances of a role I was covering. I did it without nerves and actually truly enjoyed the performance and was rewarded with wonderful applause and a great review. But after the performance was over, I sat in my lonely room feeling empty with no one to celebrate the event. It was very tough to feel so high and a few short hours later, so low. However, that was another important lesson: one must find joy not only on the stage, but in their life off the stage in order to be happy.
Around that same time I was hyper aware of all the "limitations" I possessed. I kept feeling like I “couldn’t, shouldn’t, or wouldn’t” make it in the business and, as is often the case, we see the world as we believe it. I found myself feeling less and less able to imagine a sustainable career in opera and so, after cancelling a few upcoming contracts, I quit. I had a lot of sadness coupled with confusion and spent a year “finding myself” working at an art gallery and for an events company. I was living a “normal-ish” life surrounded by creatives, but not really being one myself. I never stopped loving opera and often found myself surfing the web wondering who was singing what and where. It was then that I ran across a job vacancy at Kentucky Opera. They were looking for a Manager of Education Programs. I knew that this was indeed divine intervention at work again. I had been a Young Artist at Kentucky and liked Louisville quite a bit. I applied and got the job. I stayed for a couple of years before another “miracle” happened. I was contacted by Opera Columbus. They were looking for a Director of Education. This was perfect-I would get to do a job that I loved and live in my hometown with all my friends. I stayed for nearly four years, but the Universe had something even greater in mind for me.
While I was officially “not a singer,” opportunities kept arising whether it was appearing as a guest artist in a production of “The Mikado,” singing in a church choir or the moment that shoved me back into singing as a career. The Artistic Director of Opera Columbus needed a Mandarin in their upcoming production of “Turandot.” I accepted and was lucky to meet soprano Othalie Graham who questioned why I was not singing? The only thing I could think of was fear. I returned to my Artists Way and learned another important principal, that of synchronicity. It seemed too coincidental that I found a job at Kentucky Opera and when I was ready to move on, an opportunity at Opera Columbus arose. It was also too much by chance that they would ask me to sing a mainstage role where I would happen to meet an artist who asked the one question I was afraid to ask myself.
Again, fate came calling when I found an audition notice for a National Tour of “Porgy and Bess.” Of course I knew the hit tunes, but I did not know the full work. I flew to New York just to “try” and after a second round of auditions, was cast in the role of Jake! On a “crazy” whim, I quit my job, went to New York for rehearsals and embarked on a four-month tour. I will never forget the amazing performers, wonderful production, the time in New York and the sheer joy of singing everyday (and getting a decent fee for it!) It was amazing that the one thing that I had trained for, that had caused me so much angst and fear, was now the thing that was making me happier than I had ever been. That was the next big step in my evolution. I had returned to singing, but with a different point of view. I now loved it and more than that, I had a deep appreciation and gratitude because I knew that from being on the other side of the table, there were thousands of singers who would love to be where I was. No matter what little “irritating” things that would happen (and you can imagine what a bunch of singers and orchestra players on a bus traveling the country might bring about), I was not going to complain because I was “living the dream!” Along the way, I connected deeply with my artistic self. There are many opinions on who we should be, but only we know our voices best and the thing we are called to do is bring our truth to every role.
The transition from the tour to working with a fair amount of regularity has been challenging and most singers don’t have the luxury of working full-time as a singer. It comes with many sacrifices-missing important family events, constantly investing one’s money in auditions, lessons, coachings, and all the other elements of maintaining a career, high pressure to deliver at a world-class level, occasional loneliness, and sometimes people outside of the business not really understanding all the work that goes into making it seem “easy.” But I have found that the more I continue to love the craft (the technical, dramatic, and linguistic elements) coupled with a sheer reverence for the composers/librettists who create these masterpieces in which I get the privilege to try and bring to life, the more rewarding it is. The most important thing I try to remember every moment is to love what I am doing.
If I could give my 18 year-old self some advice, it would be: fall in love with being a singer. Fall in love with the work as much as the performance and always remember that you are blessed to have this talent. It was given to you in order to share it with others. Yes, this field is competitive, but the biggest competition one has is one’s self. And once that “inner critic” is silenced, then the “artistic self” can flourish!
Peace,
Eric
Friday, December 19, 2014
Home for the Holidays
Every opera singer who goes home for the holidays must engage in the normal family chit-chat about what they are doing, where they are singing, and what it is exactly that they do. I have come up with some sure fire answers that will help you navigate the family dinner without feeling like you are constantly defending your choice to be an “artist.”
Often we singers are asked: Where are you singing? This question has two purposes, one, they genuinely have an interest in your career and/or two, they don’t believe you are performing and are trying to prove their point. If you are lucky enough to be performing, keep your answers concise. Explain that you will be traveling to (insert various city name) to perform (insert composer.) If they want more details, lay the names of the character, opera and opera company on them. I find that naming three engagements usually satisfies any query. If you don’t have a lot of upcoming work, then mention recent work (anything you got paid to do is fair game from subbing at a church job to four hours of professional caroling.) Also include that you spent “audition season” (it’s fun to use industry lingo) singing for a variety of opera companies and that your temp job, church job, performing-for-kid’s-parties job are all so that you can move up in the opera world.
Another popular question you might hear is: Well, did you get it? in regards to your recent audition. For people not in the business of auditioning or who’ve watched the “Making of Peter Pan Live,” there is an expectation that after your audition, they will offer a role right on the spot. You will most likely have to explain that opera companies take time to make decisions. If you get hired, you might hear within a month to three month period or in most cases, you won’t hear anything. Explain that opera companies hear anywhere from 100 to 1,000 people each season and must decide from that group of auditions. (Some companies will hold call-backs, but that is pretty rare.) Also, share that opera companies often are hearing for works a year to three years out so you might be under consideration, but you won’t hear anything for some time.
If you are fortunate enough to sing full-time, and you happen to not be singing an engagement at the moment, there may be a question of you “working” while at home. Folks who are used to a steady nine-to-five, can sometimes find it difficult to understand the concept of being a freelance artist. We all know that our job is not just showing up to rehearsal and doing a performance. There is a huge amount of prep work that goes into getting a role ready and that this is “work” just like being in rehearsal and singing performances. An easy way to explain the value of prep-time is to compare it to a nine-to-fiver’s pay schedule. Most people receive a pay check every two weeks. Normally, a person works two weeks, there is a week for the payment to be processed and they receive the payment at the end of the third week. I like to explain that freelance opera work is very similar in that there is a work period, a payment process period and then a payment date. The main difference is that the work period is longer and is divided into three sections: the preparatory period (which is self-guided), the rehearsal period and the performance period. Just like a person in an office isn’t given a check each day (that would be a lot of paperwork to process!), opera singers don’t get paid until the performances. Some of the larger opera houses do pay during the rehearsal period (especially if you are covering, but that’s a whole other story.) Ultimately, you want to show how similar the opera field is to the business field and remind them that there is always “work” to be done (translation, memorization, vocal technique, stylistic study, dramatic intention and all manner of research on the opera, the characters and the music) and that the fee you receive is the culmination of all work done in advance.
What do you do all day? This is usually asked by the saucy grandma who, at the ripe age of 88, has lost her filter (and perhaps her short term memory.) It’s best to explain that you are self-employed and are a company of one. You maintain the balance of being a singer (study, auditioning, learning roles, rehearsing and performing with opera companies, etc…) and being a business person (securing auditions through your management or self, arranging travel for auditions or opera companies, emails, social media, updating materials, creating/maintaining a web presence, tracking audition/performance expenses etc…) Since each opera singer is self-employed, they have to put together their own work schedule. I find that I work best early morning to early evening. I answer emails, do research and complete updates, and engage in social media first (this usually takes a couple of hours.) I then find that score and language work are best mid-morning. Again, this takes a couple of hours. From there I will actually sing for an hour and a half to two hours. After that, I will return to emails for another hour or so and then I will end my work day with memorization which can last anywhere from two to three hours. In total my “normal” work day is: anywhere from 8 to 10 hours. And this does not include voice lessons or coachings, auditions or while in rehearsal or performance which can add an additional 2 to 6 hours.
Because we are in an age where it seems everyone wants to be famous, the following question may come up and a singer needs to be prepared with a toolkit of responses. Have you auditioned for American Idol, the Voice, America’s Got Talent, Broadway, TV, etc…? My first response is that I specialize in opera and while there have been people who have auditioned for those shows who have an “operatic” sound, many aren’t really pursuing careers as opera singers. (Meaning, they are not performing roles in operas with opera companies. This may need to be further explained.) I follow this up with: “It’s not my intention to be famous in the entertainment world, but rather a singer who has an international (or national if you choose) career working with high-level colleagues.” You might name a few opera singers for them and suggest they Google them in order to get an idea of the difference between the Susan Boyles and the Susan Grahams. Finally, you can assure them that you are on the right path by letting them know about your agent (if you have one), your investment in Yaptracker (if you have it), your voice teacher (you do have one, right?), your vocal coach (wait, you aren’t working with one?!) and the amount of practice that you do (get thee to a practice room!!!)
In truth, it may be difficult to explain why you chose the world of opera over the world of optometry, but know that most people just want to hear that you are doing “Ok,” and are not some lazy, starving artist, beatnik type. Always share with family and friends that opera is a fierce, fantastic, competitive field and the average for working singers is one job out of every ten auditions. The more convinced you are of your own success (getting into that YAP program, finding an agent, getting hired by that company you sang for last month, etc…) the more the folks around the holiday dinner table will be proud of you. And that is the best gift of all.
Peace,
Eric
Often we singers are asked: Where are you singing? This question has two purposes, one, they genuinely have an interest in your career and/or two, they don’t believe you are performing and are trying to prove their point. If you are lucky enough to be performing, keep your answers concise. Explain that you will be traveling to (insert various city name) to perform (insert composer.) If they want more details, lay the names of the character, opera and opera company on them. I find that naming three engagements usually satisfies any query. If you don’t have a lot of upcoming work, then mention recent work (anything you got paid to do is fair game from subbing at a church job to four hours of professional caroling.) Also include that you spent “audition season” (it’s fun to use industry lingo) singing for a variety of opera companies and that your temp job, church job, performing-for-kid’s-parties job are all so that you can move up in the opera world.
Another popular question you might hear is: Well, did you get it? in regards to your recent audition. For people not in the business of auditioning or who’ve watched the “Making of Peter Pan Live,” there is an expectation that after your audition, they will offer a role right on the spot. You will most likely have to explain that opera companies take time to make decisions. If you get hired, you might hear within a month to three month period or in most cases, you won’t hear anything. Explain that opera companies hear anywhere from 100 to 1,000 people each season and must decide from that group of auditions. (Some companies will hold call-backs, but that is pretty rare.) Also, share that opera companies often are hearing for works a year to three years out so you might be under consideration, but you won’t hear anything for some time.
If you are fortunate enough to sing full-time, and you happen to not be singing an engagement at the moment, there may be a question of you “working” while at home. Folks who are used to a steady nine-to-five, can sometimes find it difficult to understand the concept of being a freelance artist. We all know that our job is not just showing up to rehearsal and doing a performance. There is a huge amount of prep work that goes into getting a role ready and that this is “work” just like being in rehearsal and singing performances. An easy way to explain the value of prep-time is to compare it to a nine-to-fiver’s pay schedule. Most people receive a pay check every two weeks. Normally, a person works two weeks, there is a week for the payment to be processed and they receive the payment at the end of the third week. I like to explain that freelance opera work is very similar in that there is a work period, a payment process period and then a payment date. The main difference is that the work period is longer and is divided into three sections: the preparatory period (which is self-guided), the rehearsal period and the performance period. Just like a person in an office isn’t given a check each day (that would be a lot of paperwork to process!), opera singers don’t get paid until the performances. Some of the larger opera houses do pay during the rehearsal period (especially if you are covering, but that’s a whole other story.) Ultimately, you want to show how similar the opera field is to the business field and remind them that there is always “work” to be done (translation, memorization, vocal technique, stylistic study, dramatic intention and all manner of research on the opera, the characters and the music) and that the fee you receive is the culmination of all work done in advance.
What do you do all day? This is usually asked by the saucy grandma who, at the ripe age of 88, has lost her filter (and perhaps her short term memory.) It’s best to explain that you are self-employed and are a company of one. You maintain the balance of being a singer (study, auditioning, learning roles, rehearsing and performing with opera companies, etc…) and being a business person (securing auditions through your management or self, arranging travel for auditions or opera companies, emails, social media, updating materials, creating/maintaining a web presence, tracking audition/performance expenses etc…) Since each opera singer is self-employed, they have to put together their own work schedule. I find that I work best early morning to early evening. I answer emails, do research and complete updates, and engage in social media first (this usually takes a couple of hours.) I then find that score and language work are best mid-morning. Again, this takes a couple of hours. From there I will actually sing for an hour and a half to two hours. After that, I will return to emails for another hour or so and then I will end my work day with memorization which can last anywhere from two to three hours. In total my “normal” work day is: anywhere from 8 to 10 hours. And this does not include voice lessons or coachings, auditions or while in rehearsal or performance which can add an additional 2 to 6 hours.
Because we are in an age where it seems everyone wants to be famous, the following question may come up and a singer needs to be prepared with a toolkit of responses. Have you auditioned for American Idol, the Voice, America’s Got Talent, Broadway, TV, etc…? My first response is that I specialize in opera and while there have been people who have auditioned for those shows who have an “operatic” sound, many aren’t really pursuing careers as opera singers. (Meaning, they are not performing roles in operas with opera companies. This may need to be further explained.) I follow this up with: “It’s not my intention to be famous in the entertainment world, but rather a singer who has an international (or national if you choose) career working with high-level colleagues.” You might name a few opera singers for them and suggest they Google them in order to get an idea of the difference between the Susan Boyles and the Susan Grahams. Finally, you can assure them that you are on the right path by letting them know about your agent (if you have one), your investment in Yaptracker (if you have it), your voice teacher (you do have one, right?), your vocal coach (wait, you aren’t working with one?!) and the amount of practice that you do (get thee to a practice room!!!)
In truth, it may be difficult to explain why you chose the world of opera over the world of optometry, but know that most people just want to hear that you are doing “Ok,” and are not some lazy, starving artist, beatnik type. Always share with family and friends that opera is a fierce, fantastic, competitive field and the average for working singers is one job out of every ten auditions. The more convinced you are of your own success (getting into that YAP program, finding an agent, getting hired by that company you sang for last month, etc…) the more the folks around the holiday dinner table will be proud of you. And that is the best gift of all.
Peace,
Eric
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Tales from Tour
As an opera singer I have the privilege of dressing up and pretending to be other people, singing exquisite music and getting paid to do so. Sometimes, I even get the joy of introducing opera to young students for the first time and when all of those elements are combined, it can be one of the most satisfying operatic experiences in the world.
Last month I returned to one of my favorite roles: Papageno in The Magic Flute. The sheer silliness that I am allowed to get away with coupled with Mozart’s wonderful score bring a smile to my face every time I play the pipes announcing Papageno’s entrance. This particular production of The Magic Flute is part of the Metropolitan Opera Guild’s Urban Voices program which introduces students to opera for the first time. Many of these students have never experienced an operatic voice up close and what better piece to display all that is opera. You’ve got a wonderful (and in this instance, simplified) story, voices of every type ranging from a dramatic coloratura soprano all the way down to a low bass, and a fast-paced production filled with intrigue, comedy, drama and a dragon! What could be better?
Having done the tour last spring and many other in-school touring productions, I felt that I was a “pro” and nothing could catch me off guard. I’ve dealt with kids who scream bloody murder throughout an entire performance, trying to hold it together while a colleague cracked a note into a thousand pieces at 10 am, and even the lovely sound of a child vomiting during a particularly quiet moment onstage. I was sure nothing could phase me. That was until we performed at a school in Elizabeth, New Jersey.
As part of the element of surprise, my character often enters from somewhere other than the wings. I usually hide outside the cafegymatorium doors waiting patiently for my cue. As the performance got underway, I stood outside of the auditorium listening. I was approached not once, but twice by concerned administrators asking who I was. I completely understand that it is a bit strange to see a guy dressed in a plaid shirt and baseball cap both covered in feathers holding a light blue net and peeking inside an auditorium filled with kids. Both times I had to explain that I was part of the show that was happening and that I would be making my entrance from these doors. One of the teachers seemed fine, but another guy kept giving me the stink eye for at least 30 seconds as I tried to forget his suspicious gaze and listen for my cue. As luck would have it I was about to go in when two things happened simultaneously: 1) a class was dismissing and walking down the hall talking as if they were yelling at someone in Manhattan and 2) a teacher, seeing the door to the auditorium slowly opening took it upon herself to try and close it while I was trying to keep it open in order to hear. In the blink of an eye I missed my cue, pushed past the teacher mumbling that I was making my entrance, and crushed at least two of her feet in the process. I tried to look calm, cool and collected, but felt more like I was accosted, clumsy and a bit creepy.
Luckily the rest of the show went off without a hitch and we received thunderous applause from the group of K-5 students. I explained what had happened to my colleagues backstage regarding my entrance and without missing a beat, the soprano who is singing our Queen of the Night (at 9:30 am in the morning without missing a note, I might add) said I must’ve looked like a “bird of prey.” I had to keep from giggling every time I thought of her words.
Kids are the most honest of critics and if they like something, they really like it and if they don’t like it, they do like most people in a civilized society: they rustle, make noise and talk during pieces which hold little interest for them. It can be a little unnerving to try and convey the nuances of a quintet when a little kindergartner is whispering loudly to a kid two rows behind him about how loud we are. Another interesting thing is that many kids love the comedy, will endure the dialogue, are somewhat fascinated by the fast music and completely check out when anything is “slow.” The arias of Pamina and Tamino are usually highlights of an evening of Magic Flute, but for a 2nd grader, it’s the ideal time to talk to her neighbor about how dreamy Tamino is, all the while ignoring anything he is singing. There is no greater training for a “hostile” audience than a room full of elementary school students.
The completion of 8 performances over two weeks is a major accomplishment and I get to hang Papageno’s pipes up until the next time. But I will always have the joy of singing with wonderful artists, the memory of children laughing and a couple of funny stories to carry me through until Papageno and I meet again.
Peace,
Eric
Last month I returned to one of my favorite roles: Papageno in The Magic Flute. The sheer silliness that I am allowed to get away with coupled with Mozart’s wonderful score bring a smile to my face every time I play the pipes announcing Papageno’s entrance. This particular production of The Magic Flute is part of the Metropolitan Opera Guild’s Urban Voices program which introduces students to opera for the first time. Many of these students have never experienced an operatic voice up close and what better piece to display all that is opera. You’ve got a wonderful (and in this instance, simplified) story, voices of every type ranging from a dramatic coloratura soprano all the way down to a low bass, and a fast-paced production filled with intrigue, comedy, drama and a dragon! What could be better?
Having done the tour last spring and many other in-school touring productions, I felt that I was a “pro” and nothing could catch me off guard. I’ve dealt with kids who scream bloody murder throughout an entire performance, trying to hold it together while a colleague cracked a note into a thousand pieces at 10 am, and even the lovely sound of a child vomiting during a particularly quiet moment onstage. I was sure nothing could phase me. That was until we performed at a school in Elizabeth, New Jersey.
As part of the element of surprise, my character often enters from somewhere other than the wings. I usually hide outside the cafegymatorium doors waiting patiently for my cue. As the performance got underway, I stood outside of the auditorium listening. I was approached not once, but twice by concerned administrators asking who I was. I completely understand that it is a bit strange to see a guy dressed in a plaid shirt and baseball cap both covered in feathers holding a light blue net and peeking inside an auditorium filled with kids. Both times I had to explain that I was part of the show that was happening and that I would be making my entrance from these doors. One of the teachers seemed fine, but another guy kept giving me the stink eye for at least 30 seconds as I tried to forget his suspicious gaze and listen for my cue. As luck would have it I was about to go in when two things happened simultaneously: 1) a class was dismissing and walking down the hall talking as if they were yelling at someone in Manhattan and 2) a teacher, seeing the door to the auditorium slowly opening took it upon herself to try and close it while I was trying to keep it open in order to hear. In the blink of an eye I missed my cue, pushed past the teacher mumbling that I was making my entrance, and crushed at least two of her feet in the process. I tried to look calm, cool and collected, but felt more like I was accosted, clumsy and a bit creepy.
Luckily the rest of the show went off without a hitch and we received thunderous applause from the group of K-5 students. I explained what had happened to my colleagues backstage regarding my entrance and without missing a beat, the soprano who is singing our Queen of the Night (at 9:30 am in the morning without missing a note, I might add) said I must’ve looked like a “bird of prey.” I had to keep from giggling every time I thought of her words.
Kids are the most honest of critics and if they like something, they really like it and if they don’t like it, they do like most people in a civilized society: they rustle, make noise and talk during pieces which hold little interest for them. It can be a little unnerving to try and convey the nuances of a quintet when a little kindergartner is whispering loudly to a kid two rows behind him about how loud we are. Another interesting thing is that many kids love the comedy, will endure the dialogue, are somewhat fascinated by the fast music and completely check out when anything is “slow.” The arias of Pamina and Tamino are usually highlights of an evening of Magic Flute, but for a 2nd grader, it’s the ideal time to talk to her neighbor about how dreamy Tamino is, all the while ignoring anything he is singing. There is no greater training for a “hostile” audience than a room full of elementary school students.
The completion of 8 performances over two weeks is a major accomplishment and I get to hang Papageno’s pipes up until the next time. But I will always have the joy of singing with wonderful artists, the memory of children laughing and a couple of funny stories to carry me through until Papageno and I meet again.
Peace,
Eric
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Back in the Game
Every time I sit down to write a blog post I have two goals: 1) to write about something that those who read this may not know regarding the pursuit of a career in opera and 2) to offer some sort of advice from someone who has been on the “other side of the table” and has a unique perspective. I’ve struggled for the past few weeks regarding what topic I wanted to discuss, but as I negotiated my way around the thousands of runners hoping to finish the New York Marathon the other day, inspiration struck me and I have decided to blog about something that has been nagging at me for the past couple of years; my weight gain. I know that weight is a major issue in opera and I also know that there are many like me who have gotten “comfortable” and have seen their body go from fit and fine to a “little too svelte for comfort.”
When I got “back in the game,” I was certainly far more in love with going to the gym. As an arts administrator I was a firm believer in the “total package” and that every singer had to consider how their physical appearance affected their career. As things started to take off career-wise (and relationship wise), I found that I was going to the gym less and less as I settled into a routine that was filled with plenty of vocal exercises, but little of the physical. Cut to a recent production where I found myself wearing the same costumes I had worn about three years ago. I was able to get into the costume, but I was a bit uncomfortable and had to have alterations done. In addition to that I surrounded by colleagues who not only sang well, but were in great shape. No matter how I dressed it up, I felt like the chubby friend who was known for their “sparkling personality.”
I had ignored the fact that my jeans were a little “tight” and that fitted shirts that I used to be able to wear were “gaping open.” I wanted to believe that my weight gain was not that significant, but unfortunately no one told my scale. Upon a recent weigh-in, I was nearly shocked! How had I gained almost 30 lbs?! A recent photo proved my suspicions: I was “pleasantly plump.” In a world of barihunks and sexy sopranos, a singer has to have an honest assessment of how they look on stage. While watching those marathon runners I had an “aha” moment and am inspired to get back “in the game.”
We often see people who seem to “have it all” whether that is on television or in our own field of opera. But what we often forget is the amount of work they put into “having it all.” I now realize that each day is an opportunity for me to put in the work not only towards being a better singer, but towards making my physical self on par with my vocal self. I am in a business where what you look like is as important as what you sound like and in order to remain competitive I must put in the work and get “back in the game!” (Drops the microphone. But then quickly picks it up, places it back in the mic stand and heads to the practice room followed by the gym.)
Peace,
Eric
When I got “back in the game,” I was certainly far more in love with going to the gym. As an arts administrator I was a firm believer in the “total package” and that every singer had to consider how their physical appearance affected their career. As things started to take off career-wise (and relationship wise), I found that I was going to the gym less and less as I settled into a routine that was filled with plenty of vocal exercises, but little of the physical. Cut to a recent production where I found myself wearing the same costumes I had worn about three years ago. I was able to get into the costume, but I was a bit uncomfortable and had to have alterations done. In addition to that I surrounded by colleagues who not only sang well, but were in great shape. No matter how I dressed it up, I felt like the chubby friend who was known for their “sparkling personality.”
I had ignored the fact that my jeans were a little “tight” and that fitted shirts that I used to be able to wear were “gaping open.” I wanted to believe that my weight gain was not that significant, but unfortunately no one told my scale. Upon a recent weigh-in, I was nearly shocked! How had I gained almost 30 lbs?! A recent photo proved my suspicions: I was “pleasantly plump.” In a world of barihunks and sexy sopranos, a singer has to have an honest assessment of how they look on stage. While watching those marathon runners I had an “aha” moment and am inspired to get back “in the game.”
We often see people who seem to “have it all” whether that is on television or in our own field of opera. But what we often forget is the amount of work they put into “having it all.” I now realize that each day is an opportunity for me to put in the work not only towards being a better singer, but towards making my physical self on par with my vocal self. I am in a business where what you look like is as important as what you sound like and in order to remain competitive I must put in the work and get “back in the game!” (Drops the microphone. But then quickly picks it up, places it back in the mic stand and heads to the practice room followed by the gym.)
Peace,
Eric
Thursday, September 25, 2014
They like me; they really like me...don't they?
Two strangers meet; one sits at a table, the other stands in front of them and gets down to the act of being emotionally naked. The one behind the table may smile, ask questions or in some cases, say a polite “thank you” and look away. The one who has borne their soul smiles and leaves and someone else comes before the seated person to do the exact same thing. These brief encounters go on for hours, days, and months all in the hopes of making matches that will lead to love, lust and laughter. For many of you this may sound like New York’s latest speed dating trend, but in truth it is the joy (and sometimes pain) of the operatic audition process. But after thinking about it, I realized that the opera audition and the speed dating experience were parallel entities.
I must thank stage director Dean Anthony (with whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with on various occasions) for the inspiration for this post. Along with composer Michael Ching, Anthony has crafted a piece called Speed Dating Tonight, which shines a light on the quirky, joyful and horrible stories of the world of speed dating in a fast and fun operatic treatment. Much like the participants in the opera (and those who speed date in real life), opera singers who go through the audition process can have all sorts of experiences. So in an effort to maximize the audition/speed dating experience, here are a few helpful hints on making this upcoming audition season more successful and filled with potential matches.
What we wear is the first impression. The opera world is just as visual as it is aural, so our first impression is essential. I have found that wearing a suit (well-tailored, with an updated fit), stylish, well-polished shoes and a pressed shirt are an optimal look for me. It’s put together, relaxed and current. Some may ask: If you sing well, why does the clothing really matter? Because the people with whom we are meeting (or going on a second, or possibly third "date”) are humans and respond to people who are attractive. Studies have repeatedly shown that attractive people get treated better than unattractive people so we have to assume that the great looking, 6’3” baritone in a well-tailored suit who is in great shape is going to have a better shot at the role over, let’s say, a shlumpy 5’6” guy who is wearing a wrinkled shirt, baggy pants and an ill-fitting jacket.
Another key element of the speed dating process is who is sitting across the table staring back at you. If you are a Brooklyn hipster looking meet a few lovelies, you’re probably not going to go to an event in the Bronx (although you might, just to appear “ironic.”) People tend to be attracted to people they want to hang out with, find funny, are moved by their artistry etc…there are just as many tastes in opera as there are tastes in the dating world. Many companies have very specific ideas of what they like (and don’t like) so it’s smart for someone who may want to get “into bed” with a particular company to research who is singing there. Do they hire a specific body type repeatedly? Do they hire young singers right out of major young artist programs? Does their roster look like a United Colors of Benetton ad? Do they often perform that specialized repertoire that you are great at singing? Opera is a beautifully subjective art-form and singer A can sing for 5 different houses and each may have a unique take on them. Some will love them; some may like them; while some may just not “get” what that artist has to say. We can often take the rejection very personally and want to sing for someone over and over to “prove” to them that we are exactly what they want. However, a wonderful tenor colleague compared it to going to a bar and trying to get someone that’s not interested in us to be interested. Focus on those who seem to like us back. That’s where a true match can be made.
Finally, I must constantly remind myself that the more honest I am about who I am vocally, dramatically and artistically, the better the “daters” will see the real me. Like in the speed dating world, we only have a few minutes to make an impression in the hopes of “being picked,” but no matter how great (or what we may think poorly) we sing, much of it boils down to attraction. Are they attracted to our talent? Can they see us on the stage in a particular role? Are we someone they want to get to know? Are we the kind of singer they are looking to “date?” Of course, we can’t go into every audition knowing if someone will like us, but I find that by being myself as opposed to what I think they want, works out much better.
Many of my colleagues don’t like the audition process because it is a strange beast: we have to come warmed up and ready to go, you are surrounded by all the other (smiling?) people vying for the few jobs that are available, and you have to bare so much of yourself all the while balancing being a great artist and a humble personality (if that’s what they are looking for.) But like dating, you won’t click with everyone. They are great, you are great, but together, you are just “eh.” However, every so often, you meet that company that gets what you do, you get what they do, and together you make hot, beautiful opera. And for me, that’s what keeps me going!
Peace,
Eric
I must thank stage director Dean Anthony (with whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with on various occasions) for the inspiration for this post. Along with composer Michael Ching, Anthony has crafted a piece called Speed Dating Tonight, which shines a light on the quirky, joyful and horrible stories of the world of speed dating in a fast and fun operatic treatment. Much like the participants in the opera (and those who speed date in real life), opera singers who go through the audition process can have all sorts of experiences. So in an effort to maximize the audition/speed dating experience, here are a few helpful hints on making this upcoming audition season more successful and filled with potential matches.
What we wear is the first impression. The opera world is just as visual as it is aural, so our first impression is essential. I have found that wearing a suit (well-tailored, with an updated fit), stylish, well-polished shoes and a pressed shirt are an optimal look for me. It’s put together, relaxed and current. Some may ask: If you sing well, why does the clothing really matter? Because the people with whom we are meeting (or going on a second, or possibly third "date”) are humans and respond to people who are attractive. Studies have repeatedly shown that attractive people get treated better than unattractive people so we have to assume that the great looking, 6’3” baritone in a well-tailored suit who is in great shape is going to have a better shot at the role over, let’s say, a shlumpy 5’6” guy who is wearing a wrinkled shirt, baggy pants and an ill-fitting jacket.
Another key element of the speed dating process is who is sitting across the table staring back at you. If you are a Brooklyn hipster looking meet a few lovelies, you’re probably not going to go to an event in the Bronx (although you might, just to appear “ironic.”) People tend to be attracted to people they want to hang out with, find funny, are moved by their artistry etc…there are just as many tastes in opera as there are tastes in the dating world. Many companies have very specific ideas of what they like (and don’t like) so it’s smart for someone who may want to get “into bed” with a particular company to research who is singing there. Do they hire a specific body type repeatedly? Do they hire young singers right out of major young artist programs? Does their roster look like a United Colors of Benetton ad? Do they often perform that specialized repertoire that you are great at singing? Opera is a beautifully subjective art-form and singer A can sing for 5 different houses and each may have a unique take on them. Some will love them; some may like them; while some may just not “get” what that artist has to say. We can often take the rejection very personally and want to sing for someone over and over to “prove” to them that we are exactly what they want. However, a wonderful tenor colleague compared it to going to a bar and trying to get someone that’s not interested in us to be interested. Focus on those who seem to like us back. That’s where a true match can be made.
Finally, I must constantly remind myself that the more honest I am about who I am vocally, dramatically and artistically, the better the “daters” will see the real me. Like in the speed dating world, we only have a few minutes to make an impression in the hopes of “being picked,” but no matter how great (or what we may think poorly) we sing, much of it boils down to attraction. Are they attracted to our talent? Can they see us on the stage in a particular role? Are we someone they want to get to know? Are we the kind of singer they are looking to “date?” Of course, we can’t go into every audition knowing if someone will like us, but I find that by being myself as opposed to what I think they want, works out much better.
Many of my colleagues don’t like the audition process because it is a strange beast: we have to come warmed up and ready to go, you are surrounded by all the other (smiling?) people vying for the few jobs that are available, and you have to bare so much of yourself all the while balancing being a great artist and a humble personality (if that’s what they are looking for.) But like dating, you won’t click with everyone. They are great, you are great, but together, you are just “eh.” However, every so often, you meet that company that gets what you do, you get what they do, and together you make hot, beautiful opera. And for me, that’s what keeps me going!
Peace,
Eric
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Don't type it (unless you want EVERYONE to read it)
The world of social media (Facebook, Twitter, etc…) is now so commonplace that people are constantly connected and posting their thoughts, rants and images. However, in a world where everything is public record, why is it that people continue to post pictures and ideas that could cause backlash or even worse, get them fired? Recently two opera singers found themselves in hot water based on posts made to their Facebook pages. Below are the links to articles about their posts and the reactions they garnered.
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/ottawa/opera-lyra-fires-singer-valerian-ruminski-over-facebook-post-1.2747562
http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/opera/opera-australia-sacks-soprano-tamar-iveri-over-gay-slurs-20140623-zsiol.html
Both artists made the decision to express opinions; one regarding a particular gay individual and the other about the gay community as a whole. Both artists came forward and said that the things posted were stupid and not reflective of their true selves. (Soprano Iveri went as far to say that the post was put there by someone else.) As a result of their posts however, both artists were released from their operatic contracts after their comments went beyond the "privacy" of their FACEBOOK pages.
In truth, the fact that they made slurs that were seen as offensive does not disturb me. The world still has homophobia, racism and sexism. We all have different points of view and beliefs regarding religion, politics, race and equality. In the first article, the singer stated in his Facebook post that he did not want to be forced to see the expression of the other, and yet we live in a country that was founded on the ideas of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” The soprano mentioned later that she had “gay friends.” We work in an industry where every type of person is represented (ranging from the conservative Mormon to those who want to make their little black book rival that of Don Giovanni and everything in between.) Sometimes people who have opposing views are in a position to hire us and we need to often keep our personal self separate from our private self, especially when hired by that company as we become the face of that company.
We opera singers are freelance artists who are self-employed, but in an entertainment field where we all agree “everyone knows everyone,” we have to rethink not only our public selves, but our public ONLINE selves. Nothing we post is truly PRIVATE, so with each post we have to assume it will be seen by everyone. Social Media is not a personal diary, but a public forum in which everything we say can, and in many cases will be seen and interpreted by many. We all know that person that posts EVERYTHING they feel and we often call them “over sharers.” Since we opera singers depend on the opera companies to hire us (where many of the decision makers have very liberal points of view) and expect the wealthiest of patrons to fund those companies (many who tend towards more conservative points of view), our performing self has to be agreeable to all.
I believe in a country in which we all have the right to speak (or type) whatever is on our mind. Will I agree with all of it? No, but I don’t want anyone to take that right away. However, when you post anything it is no longer a private thought/idea that one might share in a conversation (or with a therapist), but a platform for public debate. And that series of off-hand comments or that lengthy diatribe posted to one’s page can come with severe repercussions. Facebook is a tool and we get to decide each and every day how we will use it. My challenge to everyone who reads this is to think of Facebook the same way you would think about wall paper in your home. What would you rather have people see if they walked into your house and looked at your wall, something beautiful or something ugly?
Peace,
Eric
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/ottawa/opera-lyra-fires-singer-valerian-ruminski-over-facebook-post-1.2747562
http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/opera/opera-australia-sacks-soprano-tamar-iveri-over-gay-slurs-20140623-zsiol.html
Both artists made the decision to express opinions; one regarding a particular gay individual and the other about the gay community as a whole. Both artists came forward and said that the things posted were stupid and not reflective of their true selves. (Soprano Iveri went as far to say that the post was put there by someone else.) As a result of their posts however, both artists were released from their operatic contracts after their comments went beyond the "privacy" of their FACEBOOK pages.
In truth, the fact that they made slurs that were seen as offensive does not disturb me. The world still has homophobia, racism and sexism. We all have different points of view and beliefs regarding religion, politics, race and equality. In the first article, the singer stated in his Facebook post that he did not want to be forced to see the expression of the other, and yet we live in a country that was founded on the ideas of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” The soprano mentioned later that she had “gay friends.” We work in an industry where every type of person is represented (ranging from the conservative Mormon to those who want to make their little black book rival that of Don Giovanni and everything in between.) Sometimes people who have opposing views are in a position to hire us and we need to often keep our personal self separate from our private self, especially when hired by that company as we become the face of that company.
We opera singers are freelance artists who are self-employed, but in an entertainment field where we all agree “everyone knows everyone,” we have to rethink not only our public selves, but our public ONLINE selves. Nothing we post is truly PRIVATE, so with each post we have to assume it will be seen by everyone. Social Media is not a personal diary, but a public forum in which everything we say can, and in many cases will be seen and interpreted by many. We all know that person that posts EVERYTHING they feel and we often call them “over sharers.” Since we opera singers depend on the opera companies to hire us (where many of the decision makers have very liberal points of view) and expect the wealthiest of patrons to fund those companies (many who tend towards more conservative points of view), our performing self has to be agreeable to all.
I believe in a country in which we all have the right to speak (or type) whatever is on our mind. Will I agree with all of it? No, but I don’t want anyone to take that right away. However, when you post anything it is no longer a private thought/idea that one might share in a conversation (or with a therapist), but a platform for public debate. And that series of off-hand comments or that lengthy diatribe posted to one’s page can come with severe repercussions. Facebook is a tool and we get to decide each and every day how we will use it. My challenge to everyone who reads this is to think of Facebook the same way you would think about wall paper in your home. What would you rather have people see if they walked into your house and looked at your wall, something beautiful or something ugly?
Peace,
Eric
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