In a few short days I will be landing in the world of academia, well actually, on the campus of academia for my first foray into the worlds of Notre Dame, Cole Porter and the "concert version of a musical." Several months ago I was cast in the dual roles of Fred/Petruchio in Cole Porter's play-within-a-play Kiss Me, Kate.
Because this is a concert version, the rehearsals are minimal, but that does not mean the workload is any less. In addition to the wonderful tunes (and it seems Fred/Petruchio has a lot to say,) there is the dialogue as Fred (the producer of a musical version of Taming of the Shrew) and the character he plays Petruchio, the lead in Taming of the Shrew.
Even though we will be using music stands and minimal staging, I feel that it is my duty to go into the first rehearsal as memorized as possible. My reasoning is quite logical: 1) As one of the professional actors and one of the leading characters I think it is important to show that professionals come as prepared as possible. 2) the girl who is singing Lilli/Katherine is AMAZING and I don't want to look like a slob next to her.
Speaking of the first rehearsal, there is always a bit of anxiety mixed with excitement. It is the first time we all get to meet our colleagues, hear what they've done with the role and get the reminder that putting together a show is more than our own individual part.
The wonderful thing about my experiences in opera and musical theatre is that I am familiar with both sides of the cloth. In opera, the first rehearsal is usually a sing through and the singer is expected to be completely memorized and prepared as no one uses a score during the staging process. In musical theatre it often the practice to use the script/score during the first rehearsal which could be a read-thru, a sing-thru or some combination of the two.
Excitement aside, there is the anxiety of being perceived as "good" by ones colleagues and if nervousness has set in, it can make those first few minutes before you open your mouth, completely nerve-wracking. To help me with this, I remember an old trick Mike Brady (of the Brady Bunch.) He told Marcia to imagine her driving instructor in his underwear. This really levels the playing field and makes me not take myself or the situation too seriously. It's also absolutely hilarious.
The first rehearsal is a mix of emotions and yet it is also one of the best parts of the rehearsal process as it means that in a few short weeks (or one week in this case,) a show is going up and you get to be a part of something that brings together a wealth of talent for a moment in time.
Peace,
Eric
Monday, August 16, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
The Musical
My experience and training have been in the realm of opera, but even as early as my undergraduate schooling I was an active participant in the musical. My favorite roles have been in shows like Brigadoon, Carousel and Once upon a Mattress. I've also enjoyed my share of musical theatre performances and continue to marvel at the richness of the musical theater world.
If someone were to ask me to name the major operas of Rossini, Mozart, Puccini etc...I would be able to rattle off this opera usually sung by this voice type along with whose singing it now at the major opera houses. (Perhaps I am an opera nerd.) But when it comes to musicals I can name a few and have a bit of knowledge about who might be doing what show on Broadway, but overall I am pretty ignorant to the wealth of material.
So it was a (wonderful) surprise when I saw a posting for an open call for "The Color Purple" on one of my opera job websites. I debated for several days whether or not to even go for it as my operatic stylings could seem out of place for a such a gospel-flavored piece, but then I thought back to my training at Capital University where I sang opera, operetta (there is a difference), musical theater, jazz and even a bit of gospel. I remembered that "voice" and went to the audition.
It seems the vocal chameleon gods were with me as I belted a jazzy version of "A Woman is Sometime Thing" from Porgy and Bess. Soon I was being called back to perform a song from the show and to read for one of the major roles. After a full day of waiting, I finally got my chance to shine. The feedback was pretty positive so now I wait. I wait not only for some response,(Oprah, can you put in a good word for me?) But I also wait to see if perhaps the musical theater world is my "calling."
I am currently in a production of the musical "Boy Meets Boy," and will follow that up with a concert version of "Kiss Me, Kate." I would not have thought that I was the right "type" for either role, but am finding it a wonderful challenge to get the audience to look past my "type"( more on that another day) and simply see me as a singing actor.
Perhaps the musical will afford me more options as opposed to opera which can still be a bit limited in its vision of who can sing what based not only the all-important voice type, but also the casting trend of "looking the part." While this is also a large part of the musical theater world, opera singers of color have a difficult time assimilating to the roles of opera characters based on the time, place and situations that surround opera characters. Some companies are becoming more and more adventurous and singers of color are taking on more and more interesting roles that are not just "black" characters.
Whether I land up doing mostly opera or musical theater or some combination of both, I look forward to what I can learn from each experience and how I can become a better performer whether singing a show tune or finessing an opera aria.
Peace,
Eric
If someone were to ask me to name the major operas of Rossini, Mozart, Puccini etc...I would be able to rattle off this opera usually sung by this voice type along with whose singing it now at the major opera houses. (Perhaps I am an opera nerd.) But when it comes to musicals I can name a few and have a bit of knowledge about who might be doing what show on Broadway, but overall I am pretty ignorant to the wealth of material.
So it was a (wonderful) surprise when I saw a posting for an open call for "The Color Purple" on one of my opera job websites. I debated for several days whether or not to even go for it as my operatic stylings could seem out of place for a such a gospel-flavored piece, but then I thought back to my training at Capital University where I sang opera, operetta (there is a difference), musical theater, jazz and even a bit of gospel. I remembered that "voice" and went to the audition.
It seems the vocal chameleon gods were with me as I belted a jazzy version of "A Woman is Sometime Thing" from Porgy and Bess. Soon I was being called back to perform a song from the show and to read for one of the major roles. After a full day of waiting, I finally got my chance to shine. The feedback was pretty positive so now I wait. I wait not only for some response,(Oprah, can you put in a good word for me?) But I also wait to see if perhaps the musical theater world is my "calling."
I am currently in a production of the musical "Boy Meets Boy," and will follow that up with a concert version of "Kiss Me, Kate." I would not have thought that I was the right "type" for either role, but am finding it a wonderful challenge to get the audience to look past my "type"( more on that another day) and simply see me as a singing actor.
Perhaps the musical will afford me more options as opposed to opera which can still be a bit limited in its vision of who can sing what based not only the all-important voice type, but also the casting trend of "looking the part." While this is also a large part of the musical theater world, opera singers of color have a difficult time assimilating to the roles of opera characters based on the time, place and situations that surround opera characters. Some companies are becoming more and more adventurous and singers of color are taking on more and more interesting roles that are not just "black" characters.
Whether I land up doing mostly opera or musical theater or some combination of both, I look forward to what I can learn from each experience and how I can become a better performer whether singing a show tune or finessing an opera aria.
Peace,
Eric
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
What the critics say...
People think that being an opera singer is a “cool” job. While I have to admit that I love it, there are components of the job that can make the faint of heart run. Of course, every job has its plusses and minuses, even ones that you love to do. One of the things that can be tough for any singer is the “review.” Every time you get on stage there is someone judging you (critic, producer, director, audience member etc…) so being critiqued is nothing new.
Reviews can often be a double-edge sword. It’s certainly possible that a good review can bring about more work and seeing your performance being lauded in public (print and/or online) can make your next performance even better (not to mention how good it feels for someone to “get” what you do.) But as a friend of mine says, “If you believe the good reviews, you have to believe the bad ones.” So what you do when you get a bad review?
I’ve received a handful of bad reviews. I can usually shake them off and say, “well that’s their opinion and they are entitled to it,” but one particular review really stung. I was singing a supporting role in a regional opera company several years ago and the reviewer wrote for a fairly large magazine. The review was bad and I remember the exact moment I saw it and felt like I had been punched in the stomach. What made it worse was that the review was going to be read by LOTS of people. It really hurt and I think it was the beginning of the blow to my vocal self-esteem. I was upset for many days and I remember just feeling like I was wasting my time. Another friend of mine (It’s good to have them handy,) made me feel much better by saying something that made perfect sense: In this business there are going to be people who just don’t like YOU. It doesn’t matter what you do, they just don’t like you and you are in a business of putting yourself out there to be “judged!” If you let one person’s opinion of you deter you from singing, then you are in the wrong business. (And it should be noted that I took some time off to figure that out.) While we don’t care if people don’t like our clothes, hairstyles or choice of television programs, there is something painful about someone not liking our interpretation of a role.
Her advice, while very true, wasn’t some magic pill of truth that I simply swallowed. It took time to let go of the pain, but it did give me perspective. Just like it’s my job to perform and give the audience a show, it is the critic’s job to express how they viewed the performance. Sometimes they say things like “dashing, vibrant character,” or “a voice of power and brilliance.” And other times they say things like “disappointing,” or even worse “what in the h#$% where they thinking in hiring this kid?” What matters most is that the person performing has to believe in their gifts enough not to worry about what someone else has to say. If you sing for love, then that will translate and the audience will get it. Of course we continue to refine and revamp what we do in order to make it the most professional it can be, but ultimately we have to have the soul of an artist and the hide of an elephant.
Reviews are a necessary evil of the opera world and those of us who get them on a regular basis have to learn to brush them off and still do our best because in truth, we are not performing for the critics, but for the audience. That is the relationship that should motivate us. Whether good or bad, a review can affect us, but every time we step onto that stage, it’s got to be about giving the audience the best show possible.
Peace,
Eric
Reviews can often be a double-edge sword. It’s certainly possible that a good review can bring about more work and seeing your performance being lauded in public (print and/or online) can make your next performance even better (not to mention how good it feels for someone to “get” what you do.) But as a friend of mine says, “If you believe the good reviews, you have to believe the bad ones.” So what you do when you get a bad review?
I’ve received a handful of bad reviews. I can usually shake them off and say, “well that’s their opinion and they are entitled to it,” but one particular review really stung. I was singing a supporting role in a regional opera company several years ago and the reviewer wrote for a fairly large magazine. The review was bad and I remember the exact moment I saw it and felt like I had been punched in the stomach. What made it worse was that the review was going to be read by LOTS of people. It really hurt and I think it was the beginning of the blow to my vocal self-esteem. I was upset for many days and I remember just feeling like I was wasting my time. Another friend of mine (It’s good to have them handy,) made me feel much better by saying something that made perfect sense: In this business there are going to be people who just don’t like YOU. It doesn’t matter what you do, they just don’t like you and you are in a business of putting yourself out there to be “judged!” If you let one person’s opinion of you deter you from singing, then you are in the wrong business. (And it should be noted that I took some time off to figure that out.) While we don’t care if people don’t like our clothes, hairstyles or choice of television programs, there is something painful about someone not liking our interpretation of a role.
Her advice, while very true, wasn’t some magic pill of truth that I simply swallowed. It took time to let go of the pain, but it did give me perspective. Just like it’s my job to perform and give the audience a show, it is the critic’s job to express how they viewed the performance. Sometimes they say things like “dashing, vibrant character,” or “a voice of power and brilliance.” And other times they say things like “disappointing,” or even worse “what in the h#$% where they thinking in hiring this kid?” What matters most is that the person performing has to believe in their gifts enough not to worry about what someone else has to say. If you sing for love, then that will translate and the audience will get it. Of course we continue to refine and revamp what we do in order to make it the most professional it can be, but ultimately we have to have the soul of an artist and the hide of an elephant.
Reviews are a necessary evil of the opera world and those of us who get them on a regular basis have to learn to brush them off and still do our best because in truth, we are not performing for the critics, but for the audience. That is the relationship that should motivate us. Whether good or bad, a review can affect us, but every time we step onto that stage, it’s got to be about giving the audience the best show possible.
Peace,
Eric
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The Audition
I had four auditions this past week and I felt good about all of them. For most auditions, you do it and hear something only if you get the job. But one of the auditions was the preliminary round for another audition a couple of days later. Unfortunately I did not advance and after the last few months filled with positive reviews and wonderful support from my colleagues, it was a hard pill to swallow.
Auditioning is one of the toughest things in the business. Most people hate it, but I actually enjoy doing them as I feel it is a great chance to "meet" people and introduce myself. Sometimes you just aren't what they are looking for and you have to "let it go." But this was an important group of people and I felt so prepared and so "on." So how do you deal with those feelings and say "who cares?" after being made to feel "not quite good enough?"
I have friends who do different things: Some scream it out, some drink, some cry, some take the rejection as a sign that they are on the cusp and others let it shatter their self confidence. I happen to go through several stages of the above mentioned things: I may cry, get angry and in the instance of this particular audition, I felt my confidence shaken. It's still lingering in the background. The healthy thing for me to do is to realize that this audition was just ten minutes of my career and it's fine. You don't get everything, but it also runs deeper: I have to believe in my talent so much that it doesn't bother me that a group people who have some power to shape a career didn't "get it." In addition, I have to take responsibilty for the audition and say to myself "O.K. self, if that audition wasn't 'enough,' let's work to find out what can make it even better."
Of course this is all easier said than done. But it's the people who bounce back after rejection that seem to have the career. It's the people who are fearless and who know themselves so well that they say, "Well, you don't get me, someone will and I will work and I will have the career and you can't stop me." I like those people. Even if they have fear, theylook at it, stare it down and then walk right into it holding their heads up high. What a great way to be.
So today I say to those who didn't advance me to the next round: "Thanks. I'll be back and next time you'll wonder what you were thinking."
Peace,
Eric
Auditioning is one of the toughest things in the business. Most people hate it, but I actually enjoy doing them as I feel it is a great chance to "meet" people and introduce myself. Sometimes you just aren't what they are looking for and you have to "let it go." But this was an important group of people and I felt so prepared and so "on." So how do you deal with those feelings and say "who cares?" after being made to feel "not quite good enough?"
I have friends who do different things: Some scream it out, some drink, some cry, some take the rejection as a sign that they are on the cusp and others let it shatter their self confidence. I happen to go through several stages of the above mentioned things: I may cry, get angry and in the instance of this particular audition, I felt my confidence shaken. It's still lingering in the background. The healthy thing for me to do is to realize that this audition was just ten minutes of my career and it's fine. You don't get everything, but it also runs deeper: I have to believe in my talent so much that it doesn't bother me that a group people who have some power to shape a career didn't "get it." In addition, I have to take responsibilty for the audition and say to myself "O.K. self, if that audition wasn't 'enough,' let's work to find out what can make it even better."
Of course this is all easier said than done. But it's the people who bounce back after rejection that seem to have the career. It's the people who are fearless and who know themselves so well that they say, "Well, you don't get me, someone will and I will work and I will have the career and you can't stop me." I like those people. Even if they have fear, theylook at it, stare it down and then walk right into it holding their heads up high. What a great way to be.
So today I say to those who didn't advance me to the next round: "Thanks. I'll be back and next time you'll wonder what you were thinking."
Peace,
Eric
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Expect the unexpected
No matter what happens, the show must go on! Many of us in the performing arts have heard it said, but it's when things seem to be most out of our control that this old adage rings true.
I am currently singing the role of Jake in the National Tour of Porgy and Bess and have racked up at least 40 performances. (I stopped counting somewhere between San Antonio and Sarasota.) Most of the performances have been "business as usual" with my cast mates giving 150% and each performance ending with an overwhelming standing ovation. It wasn't until a recent performance in Charlotte, NC that I realized that being a performer means anything, and I mean anything can happen.
Case and point: Following the 20-minute intermission of our recent Saturday evening performance, Jake is set to descend a flight of stairs while announcing to his wife that he is on his way out to sea. It's a beautiful moment that foreshadows the storm that will eventually destroy Jake's boat and cause Clara to run into the storm looking for him. The sound of chimes ringing signals the curtain to rise. The curtain began its slow rise as I began my descent down. The curtain however had a different idea in mind and got caught causing it to lower as I was getting close to singing my opening line. As my music approached, the curtain moved up and down forcing me to fight to see the conductor and get the first line out before the curtain completely covered the scene. Finally giving up, the curtain hit the floor setting of a chain reaction that made the conductor stop the orchestra, the audience to laugh and me to climb back up the stairs with a puzzled look on my face. Before I had a moment to settle, the chimes and curtain began their synchronized dance only for the curtain to again get "stage fright" and lower itself. By this point, I laughed as I wondered how things would turn out. Would the show go on? Would we start over or simply skip my scene altogether? All of this was racing through my mind as I reminded myself to be the consummate professional and just go with the flow. Finally on the third attempt the curtain went up (but only half-way) framing the scene like an odd peep-show where the customer had only put in enough money to view a portion of the show. On the last note of the fisher men's song the curtain, assured of its purpose, went all the way up revealing the entire set and adding dramatic weight to my character's exit. The audience applauded I'm sure with a mix of joy and relief.
I was not the only person to experience an "unusual" performance. Following the show, the lovely soprano who sings my wife was attending the meet and greet portion of the evening where fans of the show come backstage and express how much they enjoyed the performance and in particular, the person they are speaking to. For her, all was normal, until a well-meaning patron made his way over to her. She expected the usual "Your aria was beautiful," "Your performance was moving," etc...but instead the patron simply shook her hand and said that she was holding the baby incorrectly. After a moment of "What?" she gathered her wits about her and simply nodded and smiled. She realized that when you put yourself out there as a performer you not only invite praise, but also critiques from the audience member who is convinced that what they have to say is the end-all-be-all to the newspaper critic who may not like the color of your outfit (or how you hold the baby,) thus affecting how they view your entire performance.
Nothing makes things more unexpected than the arrival of allergens. I often think of them as uninvited party guests. They show up and never seem to want to leave and bring nothing but trouble. Several singers were suffering from some sort of reaction and it actually caused one of the main characters to lose the top part of his voice during the performance. Nothing is more frightening for a singer than losing one's voice. Luckily the company employs covers (understudies) to be ready on a moment's notice. It's often a daunting task to jump into a role when you haven't had the luxury of performing it multiple times. It's even scarier when you have to do it mid-performance. But that was exactly what happened. Because he went on in the role he covered for his colleague, his cover was then bumped up to perform the roles now left vacant. Because we are paid to be ready and live by the idea that the audience deserves the best show possible, the shifts must appear seamless, no matter how much sweat, blood and tears are happening backstage.
The reason we perform is that it allows up to reveal and revel in our true selves. We work hard to make sure those mechanical things, the voice, the performance, the sets, costumes, curtains etc...are all lined up so that can free ourselves and bring truth to the characters we play. But sometimes all that planning gets thrown out the window and we have to deal with the present moment ( a curtain that wants a starring role, a "critic" who wants to have their voice heard or a voice that simply needs to rest) and yet the show waits for no man (or woman) and we must keep going no matter what and rely on the training of being a true professional to get us through.
Peace,
Eric
I am currently singing the role of Jake in the National Tour of Porgy and Bess and have racked up at least 40 performances. (I stopped counting somewhere between San Antonio and Sarasota.) Most of the performances have been "business as usual" with my cast mates giving 150% and each performance ending with an overwhelming standing ovation. It wasn't until a recent performance in Charlotte, NC that I realized that being a performer means anything, and I mean anything can happen.
Case and point: Following the 20-minute intermission of our recent Saturday evening performance, Jake is set to descend a flight of stairs while announcing to his wife that he is on his way out to sea. It's a beautiful moment that foreshadows the storm that will eventually destroy Jake's boat and cause Clara to run into the storm looking for him. The sound of chimes ringing signals the curtain to rise. The curtain began its slow rise as I began my descent down. The curtain however had a different idea in mind and got caught causing it to lower as I was getting close to singing my opening line. As my music approached, the curtain moved up and down forcing me to fight to see the conductor and get the first line out before the curtain completely covered the scene. Finally giving up, the curtain hit the floor setting of a chain reaction that made the conductor stop the orchestra, the audience to laugh and me to climb back up the stairs with a puzzled look on my face. Before I had a moment to settle, the chimes and curtain began their synchronized dance only for the curtain to again get "stage fright" and lower itself. By this point, I laughed as I wondered how things would turn out. Would the show go on? Would we start over or simply skip my scene altogether? All of this was racing through my mind as I reminded myself to be the consummate professional and just go with the flow. Finally on the third attempt the curtain went up (but only half-way) framing the scene like an odd peep-show where the customer had only put in enough money to view a portion of the show. On the last note of the fisher men's song the curtain, assured of its purpose, went all the way up revealing the entire set and adding dramatic weight to my character's exit. The audience applauded I'm sure with a mix of joy and relief.
I was not the only person to experience an "unusual" performance. Following the show, the lovely soprano who sings my wife was attending the meet and greet portion of the evening where fans of the show come backstage and express how much they enjoyed the performance and in particular, the person they are speaking to. For her, all was normal, until a well-meaning patron made his way over to her. She expected the usual "Your aria was beautiful," "Your performance was moving," etc...but instead the patron simply shook her hand and said that she was holding the baby incorrectly. After a moment of "What?" she gathered her wits about her and simply nodded and smiled. She realized that when you put yourself out there as a performer you not only invite praise, but also critiques from the audience member who is convinced that what they have to say is the end-all-be-all to the newspaper critic who may not like the color of your outfit (or how you hold the baby,) thus affecting how they view your entire performance.
Nothing makes things more unexpected than the arrival of allergens. I often think of them as uninvited party guests. They show up and never seem to want to leave and bring nothing but trouble. Several singers were suffering from some sort of reaction and it actually caused one of the main characters to lose the top part of his voice during the performance. Nothing is more frightening for a singer than losing one's voice. Luckily the company employs covers (understudies) to be ready on a moment's notice. It's often a daunting task to jump into a role when you haven't had the luxury of performing it multiple times. It's even scarier when you have to do it mid-performance. But that was exactly what happened. Because he went on in the role he covered for his colleague, his cover was then bumped up to perform the roles now left vacant. Because we are paid to be ready and live by the idea that the audience deserves the best show possible, the shifts must appear seamless, no matter how much sweat, blood and tears are happening backstage.
The reason we perform is that it allows up to reveal and revel in our true selves. We work hard to make sure those mechanical things, the voice, the performance, the sets, costumes, curtains etc...are all lined up so that can free ourselves and bring truth to the characters we play. But sometimes all that planning gets thrown out the window and we have to deal with the present moment ( a curtain that wants a starring role, a "critic" who wants to have their voice heard or a voice that simply needs to rest) and yet the show waits for no man (or woman) and we must keep going no matter what and rely on the training of being a true professional to get us through.
Peace,
Eric
Thursday, April 1, 2010
You better work!
The current economic state presents opera singers with the challenge of being gainfully employed throughout the year. In the good times, singers had to hustle to be employed full-time, but now it seems that more and more singers are struggling to find work. So what does a singer do to ensure that they can spend more time singing and less time worrying?
A change of attitude towards the business is necessary. Take a look at the number of singers you know who are working. If you can name ten, that means that it is possible and you can release the belief that there isn't enough work. Next a singer must accept that they are the CEO of their own product. The singer has to know what their brand is and where it fits into the market. Are you a sexy Mozart singer? Are a you a dramatic voice with an imposing frame? Are you a singer who can play comedy well? It takes the fach categorization one step further. We have to discover our niche in an over-crowded field and how we stand out.
If you are an independent singer, you have to think of yourself as your own agent. Now this can be tricky as those in power are much more comfortable working with agents versus artists. However, artists who have a comfortable relationship with an opera company should be able to talk fairly openly with the company about audition feedback and possible casting choices.
When you have a relationship with a company it's important to keep them informed. Opera companies hear from singers every day. Some are singers they know, some are unknown, some they really love, some they like, but have nothing for (yes this does really happen) and some who seem to not make an impression. It's not uncommon for the powers that be to have thousands of singers in their database (or heads) and a simple e-mail or postcard letting them know what you are doing puts you in their consciousness and let's them see that you are working (and worth hiring.)
The other thing we can do is always be amazing. This is the hardest part, but knowing how competitive this field is, why would we not give ourselves every advantage? Every time we get a chance to sing in public, it should be as if we are performing at the highest level and think that a job could come out of it (and there are times that this does happen.)
Just like Heidi Klum says "Somedays you're in, somedays you're out." Opera is a fickle business so that means we need to be prepared for anything. As the CEO of Opera Singer Extraordinaire Inc., we have to keep our business ahead of the game, competitive and offering a product that is amazing, interesting and one that people want.
Peace,
Eric
A change of attitude towards the business is necessary. Take a look at the number of singers you know who are working. If you can name ten, that means that it is possible and you can release the belief that there isn't enough work. Next a singer must accept that they are the CEO of their own product. The singer has to know what their brand is and where it fits into the market. Are you a sexy Mozart singer? Are a you a dramatic voice with an imposing frame? Are you a singer who can play comedy well? It takes the fach categorization one step further. We have to discover our niche in an over-crowded field and how we stand out.
If you are an independent singer, you have to think of yourself as your own agent. Now this can be tricky as those in power are much more comfortable working with agents versus artists. However, artists who have a comfortable relationship with an opera company should be able to talk fairly openly with the company about audition feedback and possible casting choices.
When you have a relationship with a company it's important to keep them informed. Opera companies hear from singers every day. Some are singers they know, some are unknown, some they really love, some they like, but have nothing for (yes this does really happen) and some who seem to not make an impression. It's not uncommon for the powers that be to have thousands of singers in their database (or heads) and a simple e-mail or postcard letting them know what you are doing puts you in their consciousness and let's them see that you are working (and worth hiring.)
The other thing we can do is always be amazing. This is the hardest part, but knowing how competitive this field is, why would we not give ourselves every advantage? Every time we get a chance to sing in public, it should be as if we are performing at the highest level and think that a job could come out of it (and there are times that this does happen.)
Just like Heidi Klum says "Somedays you're in, somedays you're out." Opera is a fickle business so that means we need to be prepared for anything. As the CEO of Opera Singer Extraordinaire Inc., we have to keep our business ahead of the game, competitive and offering a product that is amazing, interesting and one that people want.
Peace,
Eric
Monday, March 8, 2010
Advice for being on the Road
I have embarked on my first national tour and I can say is that there is no preparation for this kind of work. You prepare for the singing, the acting, but no one tells you about the cramped dressing rooms, the behind-the-scenes intrigue or the bus bathroom that smells like something the cat just covered up in its litter box. Nonetheless, I have to express a sheer joy at being an employed singer singing one of the great American operas.
Traveling with a cast of 30, an orchestra of 18, a company manager and performing a show every night can wear a person down and cause a person to act in a "crazy" way. So in an attempt to give some insight into how to survive a national tour, here are five simple rules:
1) Be on time. If you are late, it shows that you think your time is more important than everyone else and makes you look like a jerk. In the event that you are late, apologize to your colleagues as it lets them know that you are aware that you have wasted their time.
2) Keep your complaining to a minimum. Nothing is less attractive to your colleagues and those in power than someone who has a complaint about everything. Of course we want everything to be "perfect," but the reality is that sometimes things don't work out. Unless it is specifically your job, know that the tour manager will work out the issue and it's your job to be rested and prepared to perform. Also, people who tend to complain and complain tend not to get rehired. Don't let your constant complaining be the "audition aria" that keeps you from getting the job.
3) Remember why you are on the road. I sometimes see singers forget that the tour is a job and the expectation is that you deliver the expected product. We are singers first and everything else second. It's important to be rested, prepared and focused. If someone is paying you to sing, then the expectation is that you will sing (and sing well!)
4) On days off, do something fun. Tours can be grueling, so it's necessary to have some fun. Go to a movie, get a great meal, have a drink with your colleagues or lay in bed and watch TV, eat ice-cream and clip your toenails. Whatever it is that you enjoy.
5) Be grateful. If you are fortunate enough to get a job singing, remember to be grateful as there are hundreds of singers who would kill for this experience.
By following these simple rules, the national tour will be a fun, festive experience that keeps a smile on your smile and a song in your heart.
Peace,
Eric
Traveling with a cast of 30, an orchestra of 18, a company manager and performing a show every night can wear a person down and cause a person to act in a "crazy" way. So in an attempt to give some insight into how to survive a national tour, here are five simple rules:
1) Be on time. If you are late, it shows that you think your time is more important than everyone else and makes you look like a jerk. In the event that you are late, apologize to your colleagues as it lets them know that you are aware that you have wasted their time.
2) Keep your complaining to a minimum. Nothing is less attractive to your colleagues and those in power than someone who has a complaint about everything. Of course we want everything to be "perfect," but the reality is that sometimes things don't work out. Unless it is specifically your job, know that the tour manager will work out the issue and it's your job to be rested and prepared to perform. Also, people who tend to complain and complain tend not to get rehired. Don't let your constant complaining be the "audition aria" that keeps you from getting the job.
3) Remember why you are on the road. I sometimes see singers forget that the tour is a job and the expectation is that you deliver the expected product. We are singers first and everything else second. It's important to be rested, prepared and focused. If someone is paying you to sing, then the expectation is that you will sing (and sing well!)
4) On days off, do something fun. Tours can be grueling, so it's necessary to have some fun. Go to a movie, get a great meal, have a drink with your colleagues or lay in bed and watch TV, eat ice-cream and clip your toenails. Whatever it is that you enjoy.
5) Be grateful. If you are fortunate enough to get a job singing, remember to be grateful as there are hundreds of singers who would kill for this experience.
By following these simple rules, the national tour will be a fun, festive experience that keeps a smile on your smile and a song in your heart.
Peace,
Eric
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
