Transitions

In about a month, I am making the move to NYC. I am feeling all the things one expects to feel about picking up one’s life and going to the Big Apple: excitement about the energy of that city, fear that it will bring about unexpected struggles, joy that I am not having anxiety-ridden dreams that cause sleepless nights and most importantly a sense of calm, that somehow, all of this is going to not only work out, but will work out well.

I am currently in rehearsals with Opera Columbus who is doing a hip, updated, intimate production of La Bohème . The opera is one of the most-loved operas by audiences, but it also holds a special place in the heart of any opera singer who KNOWS the ins and outs of being a “starving artist.” A few years ago, I adopted the phrase “No longer a starving artist, but a successful creative.” I really liked the idea of being a successful creative and was fortunate enough to be surrounded by graphic designers, freelance artists and those who owned their own businesses that sold creativity to others. It showed me that not only was it possible, but that one could be very successful doing so. Still, something in me decided it was safer to give up singing and move into the administrative side of opera. I was working in the field and was doing well, but there was a longing for that creativity. Being the all or nothing person that I am, I auditioned for the National Tour of Porgy and Bess (the operatic version, not the current musical theater version that should be coming to a theater near you soon) and I got offered a role. I had to make a decision: go for it and hope that once the tour was over there would be other opportunities or stay in my current job and just sing locally in order to fulfill my need to perform.

It’s something that many singers who are not based in NYC go through. There is a need for security, routine and most importantly, money! I only had a few days to make a decision and I thought to myself, what would make me the happiest. I didn’t think about being rational as I had been rational for the last few years and I wasn’t really happy. So I decided to go for it. The tour was a wonderful and well-paying opportunity. I believed that somehow other things would come and while they did, the few months after that were EXTREMELY difficult. I almost gave up (and that was living in Columbus.)

Cut to three years later and I am fortunate that I am working quite a bit with engagements all over the country, but financially it can still be tough. I have to do everything from cater work, temping and improv murder mysteries (which I really enjoy!) to supplement the opera/concert work. There is something extremely liberating and terrifying about being self-employed. I celebrate each job I get and love depositing each check that I earn knowing that I did it (with the help of a lot of other people!) And yet, what kind of person does it take to truly become a full-time working singer? There are two kinds:

1) The singer who has an extraordinary gift and has “it” who goes from school to major Young Artist Program, to agent to mainstage work all over the globe in a short amount of time
2) The rest of us who have to sing, teach, act, temp, wait upon, nanny, write, read and do everything we can to simply survive. And yet, we love every minute of it because we are listening to our higher self that is telling us that this is what we are supposed to do.

I am fortunate enough to know many singers who, like me, are also in transition. Some are transitioning for the scholastic world into young professional, some are transitioning from years of singing with every small house in the US to careers at the MET, some are transitioning from pursuing the career to moving into another phase of their life by getting married, having children or finding work in another field (even the other side of the operatic table), while still some, like me, are just beginning to build momentum and can see new opportunities around every corner.

We all study singing because we have a love for making music (or for some, they want to be the center of attention in the most heightened state possible.) Depending on where you go to school, you may also get a crash course in the business of opera, how to be the CEO of Your Name, Inc and if you are lucky, build enough contacts that once you graduate, you move right up to the A-list of operatic opportunities. But no matter who you are or where you come from, every singer faces the same question: At what point do I stop being a (insert job here that pays the bills) to a full-time singer? Does the work have to come first or does one have to pursue the work in order for it come? For me, it was getting that one role in the tour that told me that this was the right decision to be a full-time singer. Since then, it has been a series of ups and downs, a mixture of artistic triumphs and personal frustration all the while trying to remember the philosophy of being “a successful creative.”

So to remind myself every day that being an opera singer is my job, I have embraced all the elements of being an opera singer. Of course, being the most prepared I can be musically and dramatically, using all the resources I have to audition for anyone who will hear me, working so I can afford to audition for anyone who will hear me, having a team of people who advise, support and tell me the truth, buying into the social media of being an opera singer, creating programming in order to give myself one more option to perform, being a great colleague because you never know when one of those folks will get you a gig, working harder than what you are getting paid for because it means that you value your work more than you value the check, spending every moment that I can focusing on getting work and doing great work and finally loving it and being grateful for it. We often forget that we are lucky every time we get a singing job because there are those that did NOT get hired. I think of them every time I am tired, grumpy because I have to sing before 10 am, when I have long days, when I have rehearsals that seem pointless, when my colleagues are unprepared, or when I just want to skip a day of singing. I think, just like my mom who paid thousands of dollars for me to go to school and who worked countless overtime just so I could pursue my dream, that I need to think of my life as the “artiste” as one of a 9-5 (or more my case 8 to whenever I get my list of things I want to do accomplished) and know that I am not just the CEO of Eric McKeever, Inc, but also the brand itself which means that I have to be savvy enough to survive the business of opera, but also be someone whose brand (talent, preparation, dramatic skills, etc…) set me apart from the rest of the market.

Thinking back to my days in the conservatory when I was just trying to figure out how to sing the E-flat above middle C without going into falsetto, I marvel at the journey I have taken. I learned to sing in undergrad, learned to sing and act together in grad school, became a professional singer almost by accident, made my rounds in nearly every YAP in the Midwest and beyond, stepped away, wandered for a year, got into the administrative side of opera and finally “found myself” and have been doing what I believe has always been my calling. The one difference from years before is that I believe I deserve it and am ready for it. I know that had I not stepped away, I would have never found the love again, so for me each transition has been a necessary step in becoming the singer I am today.

I look forward to the next transition of singing leading roles with major companies around the world. I will still work very hard to maintain the humility of a student with the ferocious curiosity of an artist because with each transition, I have actually moved closer to the real me and not the” me” that others want me to be.

Peace,

Eric