The last two months have been rather tough. After what turned out to be a rather odd audition season, I find myself back in the place of questioning whether or not I want to continue on this path. My auditions have gone very well and people seemed incredibly impressed and yet I still seem to be passed over for things. I have had many quiet moments thinking, writing and reasoning trying to figure out why I am not where I want to be. The holidays were filled with a bit of melancholy as many things have come back as a "no" and some things changed because of a new direction for the production. Hopes were dashed and dreams deferred, so why continue when I could go back into arts administraiton and at least have some sense of consistency?
For some people they go the traditional path of undergrad, grad school, major YAP, agent and then work. Sometimes these things overlap especially if someone is particularly good. My path as a singer has had its shares of ups and downs. While still in grad school, I was cast as a cover for the world premiere of an opera at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. It was an amazing experience! After that I was hired back two more times to sing with the Lyric Opera's Opera in the Neighborhoods program singing alongside alumni of the Lyric Opera Center. Again, I felt like I was working with some great talent and really learning a lot. Then things became tough and after doing nearly every regional opera company YAP in the midwest, I got stuck and then injured and had to stop and recover. Barely back to full health, I went off to do another YAP and had a rollercoaster of a ride filled with excitment (making my mainstage debut for an indesposed colleague) to feeling like nothing (singing for a room full of drunk people who didn't care.) I was tired, confused, lonely and hurting so I decided I needed to reassess.
After 6 years of being away from singing, I jumped back into this wacky business after getting a role in the National Tour of Porgy and Bess. I was rejuvenated and excited about singing again. I had retapped my artistic self and it felt very good, but now two years later, I feel tired, lost and confused again. I feel like I have all the goods and have been told as much, but something is keeping me from getting jobs and I also feel like I could be doing something else that would serve people and myself in a better way. I have always believed that others should not influence how we feel about ourselves and we are constantly told to follow our dreams. I have to decided if I am going to continue this or if I need to find another dream to pursue because of all the things I have tried in my life, this, being an opera singer, has always been the most dfficult.
I don't know where I will be in 6 months, but I sense that I need for something MAJOR to happen. I believe in my talent and I know there are others that do as well. What I don't believe in is the life. Perhaps I am not cut out for it. I have missed and given up so much by being away and yet being away is the only way to get work so...
I simply am in the process of questioning if this is where I am best suited. I love opera so much and I love performing and learning and growing. Perhaps in a few days something will come through and perhaps I will come to the conclusion that I don't have to do this as a career, but I will continue to write about my journey "back in the game" as I think it gives a lot of insight into the mind of someone who wants it and goes for it and the joys, fears, rewards and doubts that come with it.
Peace,
Eric
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Friday, December 16, 2011
Schaunard Redux-How will I do it this time?
One of the great joys of learning and performing a role is that more than likely you will get to do it again. I am experencing the joy of singing Schaunard in excerpts of La boheme with St. Petersburg Opera as part of the holiday concert called Seasonal Sparkle (great name, right?) The other joy is taking what you have learned from your coachings and lessons and previous productions and bringing that to the table. What's always interesting to me is that often a singer will have to "make adjustments" to what they have done in the past in order to perfomer in the present. An example of this is that last conductor wanted the character of Schaunard to bring a lightness to his talky text, while the conductor I am currently working with is much more into a broader vocal line so as the singer I have to jump to the now and sing it the way they are asking. This does two things: 1) It gives the conductor faith in your ability to be led and 2) it shows that your technique is flexible enough to make the change and quickly. One of the worst things a singer can do is to say the dreaded "I can only do it this way" line which can make one come off not only as a diva/divo, but as someone who doesn't show trust in the conductor's wishes. Now, I'm not saying that you have to give in if something is clearly not working for you, but the push-pull that is so necessary in music is also necessary in the conductor-singer dynamic. It's really about creating trust on both sides and if the singer puts up a wall, then the conductor thinks to themselves, well this singer may be good, but they are missing out on the opportunity to be great.
Something else that changes how one sings a role they've done before is their colleagues. A different Colline certainly affects the way I sing Schuanard. A different point of view from the director will color how I approach the entire character that up til now, I thought I had figured out. It makes it fun to create that push-pull with another set of singing actors who bring their own energies, colors and thoughts to the table. Performing a familiar role with new people actually can keep the freshness of the character and helps to bring out new colors.
The final joy of doing a role again is that you can "play" a lot more. Often we get so caught up in our performance that we forget that we are onstage with other people. Each person brings their strengths and weaknesses to the stage and part of the joy of rehearsal (and sometimes performance) is going with the flow and working with what you are given. It can be really great to share some insight you might have about your character with someone who is singing their role for the first time. This spark of information may lead to that light bulb moment and the next thing you know, you and that actor have a "bit" that only you two know about, but that makes a particular moment special onstage.
As I prepare for the performance, I look forward to what my current boheme colleagues bring to the stage and what special moments we can create to keep not only Schaunard fresh, but this timeless work which seems as relevant today as it did when it premiered.
Peace,
Eric
Something else that changes how one sings a role they've done before is their colleagues. A different Colline certainly affects the way I sing Schuanard. A different point of view from the director will color how I approach the entire character that up til now, I thought I had figured out. It makes it fun to create that push-pull with another set of singing actors who bring their own energies, colors and thoughts to the table. Performing a familiar role with new people actually can keep the freshness of the character and helps to bring out new colors.
The final joy of doing a role again is that you can "play" a lot more. Often we get so caught up in our performance that we forget that we are onstage with other people. Each person brings their strengths and weaknesses to the stage and part of the joy of rehearsal (and sometimes performance) is going with the flow and working with what you are given. It can be really great to share some insight you might have about your character with someone who is singing their role for the first time. This spark of information may lead to that light bulb moment and the next thing you know, you and that actor have a "bit" that only you two know about, but that makes a particular moment special onstage.
As I prepare for the performance, I look forward to what my current boheme colleagues bring to the stage and what special moments we can create to keep not only Schaunard fresh, but this timeless work which seems as relevant today as it did when it premiered.
Peace,
Eric
Saturday, December 3, 2011
And one of them is black
I’m currently in rehearsals for a January production of “Amahl and the Night Visitors.” Believe it or not, this is my first time singing this beautiful work by Gian Carlo Menotti. Written for the NBC Opera, it premiered on Christmas Eve, 1951. The opera tells the story of Amahl, a small cripple boy and his Mother and the night they are visited by the Three Wise Men (Kings) following the Star. I am making my debut in the role of Balthazar, the black king.
One of the best lines in the show is when Amahl is responding to the knocks on the door and each time, as he opens the door wider and wider, he sees that there are three Kings in total. He alerts his Mother and on the third time informs her that there are indeed three Kings and one of them is black. It’s one a handful of humorous moments in the opera that still ring true today almost 60 years later.
As a black man in opera I am usually the only person of color in the room (unless it’s a production of Porgy and Bess in which case you can’t swing a cooked ham hock without knocking over another baritone singing “I got plenty o’ nuttin’.) I have come to terms with being “the black” in the show and feel pretty cool about it all. (Note that back in the day, I used to think that no would ever hire me because I was black…and short, but then Lawrence Brownlee came along and ruined that excuse I was content to make. Thanks a lot, Larry!) I realized that if I was really great, I mean really great, I just might convince that Artistic Director to hire me. And I can say that so far that has worked. I have sung everything from Mozart to Gilbert and Sullivan to musical theatre and in most cases, my skin color was not an issue.
However there are two (funny?) stories where my race was an issue. Story number one involves working in a production of The Secret Garden where I was not only expected to sing and act the role of Major Holmes, but I also had to learn sign language because the production featured deaf actors. I was also cast to be the “voice” for the deaf actor who played Ben. Probably the most challenging component of this piece, outside of throwing opera and musical theatre people together with deaf actors, was coordinating the acting of the deaf actor playing Ben and me voicing the role (dialogue and singing.) After a particularly tense rehearsal where the Ben actor and I were not lining up with his sign language and my singing, the director asked the actor (using a sign language interpreter) if he could see me. He signed something and the sign language interpreter went beet red. When I asked her what he said. She turned me and responded “Too black.” I wasn’t sure whether to laugh hysterically or cry hysterically, but I do know that I felt some form of hysteria coming on, but I wasn’t sure which. Needless to say that I was pissed at him for days and decided not to speak to him, but then I realized…Anyway after the production ended I found out that it had never really been an issue for him. Most people who use sign language are not trying to create a poetic interpretation of what they mean. They just say it!
Story number two involves performing as a Young Artist with (unnamed) opera company at a major function where the crowd was drunk and not listening and I was irritated because we (me and the other Young Artists) were running late in getting to the event. After singing my first aria to a crowd of people who were clearly more interested in hearing what the bartender had to offer, I left the large conference room and waited in the hall. One of the drunken audience members was clearly looking for someone or something so I was not surprised when he came up to me. What DID surprise me was when he attempted to place a drink order. Before he could complete his order I said, in my most authoritative and irritated voice, “I don’t work here!” I then turned in an operatic huff and walked back into the room to finish my part in what was probably one my least favorite performing experiences. After the event ended, my colleague who is now a dear friend, found it very funny not only that the guy had tried to order a drink from me, but also how dramatic my response to him had been. After a few hours of sulking, I had to admit that the situation did have a humorous spin to it and I could indeed laugh.
I relay these stories not to say that being black in opera is any harder than being too short, too tall, too heavy, too skinny, too this or too that. When we signed up for the life of an opera singer, we knew that there would be challenges and that some people would have no desire to hire us based on our voice, our height or the fact that the tie we are wearing has the same color as the eyes of the person that dumped them in tenth grade. We work in the entertainment field and people hire who they believe will do the best job. Sometimes they want that 6 foot 4 baritone who looks like George Clooney, but the good news, and it is good news, is that sometimes they want the 5’8” bald African American baritone who sings Rossini. Good thing I’m out there and can do it!
Peace,
Eric
One of the best lines in the show is when Amahl is responding to the knocks on the door and each time, as he opens the door wider and wider, he sees that there are three Kings in total. He alerts his Mother and on the third time informs her that there are indeed three Kings and one of them is black. It’s one a handful of humorous moments in the opera that still ring true today almost 60 years later.
As a black man in opera I am usually the only person of color in the room (unless it’s a production of Porgy and Bess in which case you can’t swing a cooked ham hock without knocking over another baritone singing “I got plenty o’ nuttin’.) I have come to terms with being “the black” in the show and feel pretty cool about it all. (Note that back in the day, I used to think that no would ever hire me because I was black…and short, but then Lawrence Brownlee came along and ruined that excuse I was content to make. Thanks a lot, Larry!) I realized that if I was really great, I mean really great, I just might convince that Artistic Director to hire me. And I can say that so far that has worked. I have sung everything from Mozart to Gilbert and Sullivan to musical theatre and in most cases, my skin color was not an issue.
However there are two (funny?) stories where my race was an issue. Story number one involves working in a production of The Secret Garden where I was not only expected to sing and act the role of Major Holmes, but I also had to learn sign language because the production featured deaf actors. I was also cast to be the “voice” for the deaf actor who played Ben. Probably the most challenging component of this piece, outside of throwing opera and musical theatre people together with deaf actors, was coordinating the acting of the deaf actor playing Ben and me voicing the role (dialogue and singing.) After a particularly tense rehearsal where the Ben actor and I were not lining up with his sign language and my singing, the director asked the actor (using a sign language interpreter) if he could see me. He signed something and the sign language interpreter went beet red. When I asked her what he said. She turned me and responded “Too black.” I wasn’t sure whether to laugh hysterically or cry hysterically, but I do know that I felt some form of hysteria coming on, but I wasn’t sure which. Needless to say that I was pissed at him for days and decided not to speak to him, but then I realized…Anyway after the production ended I found out that it had never really been an issue for him. Most people who use sign language are not trying to create a poetic interpretation of what they mean. They just say it!
Story number two involves performing as a Young Artist with (unnamed) opera company at a major function where the crowd was drunk and not listening and I was irritated because we (me and the other Young Artists) were running late in getting to the event. After singing my first aria to a crowd of people who were clearly more interested in hearing what the bartender had to offer, I left the large conference room and waited in the hall. One of the drunken audience members was clearly looking for someone or something so I was not surprised when he came up to me. What DID surprise me was when he attempted to place a drink order. Before he could complete his order I said, in my most authoritative and irritated voice, “I don’t work here!” I then turned in an operatic huff and walked back into the room to finish my part in what was probably one my least favorite performing experiences. After the event ended, my colleague who is now a dear friend, found it very funny not only that the guy had tried to order a drink from me, but also how dramatic my response to him had been. After a few hours of sulking, I had to admit that the situation did have a humorous spin to it and I could indeed laugh.
I relay these stories not to say that being black in opera is any harder than being too short, too tall, too heavy, too skinny, too this or too that. When we signed up for the life of an opera singer, we knew that there would be challenges and that some people would have no desire to hire us based on our voice, our height or the fact that the tie we are wearing has the same color as the eyes of the person that dumped them in tenth grade. We work in the entertainment field and people hire who they believe will do the best job. Sometimes they want that 6 foot 4 baritone who looks like George Clooney, but the good news, and it is good news, is that sometimes they want the 5’8” bald African American baritone who sings Rossini. Good thing I’m out there and can do it!
Peace,
Eric
Saturday, November 19, 2011
A few tips to remember during audition season
Audition season is in full swing and I want to remind myself to stay fresh during the process. It’s very easy to get down about the idea of singing for a room of people who don’t know you and knowing that they hold your fate in their hands. But I aim to remind myself that I LOVE singing and more than that, I LOVE performing. I am willing to do what it takes to be successful at what I do and since the audition process is a large part of being a singer, I better find a way to LOVE it!
So I am posting a few things to keep in mind that will help every singer who sits there and waits for their name to be called in the hopes of dazzling the panel in the allotted five to ten minutes in order to get work.
1)Be as prepared as possible. One of the major factors that separate the working singer from the pack is their preparation. And it goes beyond just musicality. Obviously the singing should be en pointe, but the drama and better yet, the understanding of the drama are essential. A singer has to have the music in their body and should possess a complete understanding of the character and where they are in the story. This will get your headshot and resume to head of the pack (and possibly get you hired or at least the chance to sing for the company in the future.) Remember, every character on stage wants something and one of the most interesting components of opera is that it tends to be good people making bad choices.
2)The next thing is to be your “on” self. The people behind the table want to hire folks that perform the role incredibly well, who can charm donors, has a gregarious personality and is EASY to work with over the course of rehearsals and performances. Since we all work in the world of make believe, sometimes we have to make believe that we want to make small talk with the donor who compares our performance to that of a legend or the novice opera-goer who says that Phantom of the Opera is their favorite opera. We must remember that our public “self” needs to be a little heightened in the audition room in order to make ourselves memorable. These administrators hear hundreds of singers and tend to remember those who make the best overall impression.
3)Dress for success. Often we hear about the female fashion faux pas at auditions, but men remember that a well-cut suit, tailored, if necessary, can create the image we have worked so hard to project during our singing. And know that if your suit is great and your shoes look like something a farmer wore while harvesting wheat, they will focus on them and not your gorgeous voice.
4)Treat everyone at the audition as if they could hire you, because sometimes that monitor sitting outside the room might have a say in whether or not you get the job. Also treat all the other people at the audition like they could hire you, because you never know whom they might know or if they have an “in” with that company.
5)Have your music double-sided copied in a folder, clearly marked and easy to navigate. Cross out anything you don’t want the accompanist to play. Mark cuts VERY clearly and if there is something tricky in your score, alert your accompanist so that you two are on the same page.
6)Speaking of the accompanist, if the company doesn’t provide one, hire a great accompanist that you trust and that trusts you. This is integral in making your audition its best. Your accompanist should know where you breathe, when you need time to slow down or need to go faster and should contribute to your musical experience. If you don’t know someone, ask the company you are singing for or others in the business for recommendations.
7)Assess and release. Once you are in the room, just sing. If you are prepared, well warmed up and feeling good, muscle memory should take over. (The hard work comes with the hours of practice to get it to sound its best.) Never assess your singing while it is going on. It takes you out of the moment and you can’t fix something that has gone by. This is not to say forget about technique, but remember that what you do in the present is what can alter what has happened in the past in order to change your future. And when that audition is done, release it. (OK, that’s hard one, but it will keep you sane.) If you’ve recorded your audition, give yourself some space before you listen so that you can assess it in an honest way. Immediately after an audition we are still emotionally connected and it can be hard to hear ourselves objectively. After you listen and decide what you’d like fix, work to change what you didn’t like as opposed to fixating on the fact that something wasn’t “right.”
8)Finally and most important: The more auditions you do, the better chance you have at being hired. This is a numbers game and you increase your chances of getting work if you sing for as many people as possible and in my humble opinion, if you’ve auditioned for someone and been hired, BE WILLING TO SING FOR THEM AGAIN. People often hear you at one point and put you in a box. If you are singing new rep and haven’t sung for a company in a while, it’s important to have them hear you again so that they have an updated opinion of your talent.
Many singers dislike the audition process. It can be exhausting, expensive and feel futile. But what if we looked at it as an opportunity to attend a cool party where we get to be charming, talented, sexy, well dressed and the center of attention for at least five minutes? Perhaps it would take away some of the “pressure” and would allow the audition experience to actually be fun.
Peace,
Eric
So I am posting a few things to keep in mind that will help every singer who sits there and waits for their name to be called in the hopes of dazzling the panel in the allotted five to ten minutes in order to get work.
1)Be as prepared as possible. One of the major factors that separate the working singer from the pack is their preparation. And it goes beyond just musicality. Obviously the singing should be en pointe, but the drama and better yet, the understanding of the drama are essential. A singer has to have the music in their body and should possess a complete understanding of the character and where they are in the story. This will get your headshot and resume to head of the pack (and possibly get you hired or at least the chance to sing for the company in the future.) Remember, every character on stage wants something and one of the most interesting components of opera is that it tends to be good people making bad choices.
2)The next thing is to be your “on” self. The people behind the table want to hire folks that perform the role incredibly well, who can charm donors, has a gregarious personality and is EASY to work with over the course of rehearsals and performances. Since we all work in the world of make believe, sometimes we have to make believe that we want to make small talk with the donor who compares our performance to that of a legend or the novice opera-goer who says that Phantom of the Opera is their favorite opera. We must remember that our public “self” needs to be a little heightened in the audition room in order to make ourselves memorable. These administrators hear hundreds of singers and tend to remember those who make the best overall impression.
3)Dress for success. Often we hear about the female fashion faux pas at auditions, but men remember that a well-cut suit, tailored, if necessary, can create the image we have worked so hard to project during our singing. And know that if your suit is great and your shoes look like something a farmer wore while harvesting wheat, they will focus on them and not your gorgeous voice.
4)Treat everyone at the audition as if they could hire you, because sometimes that monitor sitting outside the room might have a say in whether or not you get the job. Also treat all the other people at the audition like they could hire you, because you never know whom they might know or if they have an “in” with that company.
5)Have your music double-sided copied in a folder, clearly marked and easy to navigate. Cross out anything you don’t want the accompanist to play. Mark cuts VERY clearly and if there is something tricky in your score, alert your accompanist so that you two are on the same page.
6)Speaking of the accompanist, if the company doesn’t provide one, hire a great accompanist that you trust and that trusts you. This is integral in making your audition its best. Your accompanist should know where you breathe, when you need time to slow down or need to go faster and should contribute to your musical experience. If you don’t know someone, ask the company you are singing for or others in the business for recommendations.
7)Assess and release. Once you are in the room, just sing. If you are prepared, well warmed up and feeling good, muscle memory should take over. (The hard work comes with the hours of practice to get it to sound its best.) Never assess your singing while it is going on. It takes you out of the moment and you can’t fix something that has gone by. This is not to say forget about technique, but remember that what you do in the present is what can alter what has happened in the past in order to change your future. And when that audition is done, release it. (OK, that’s hard one, but it will keep you sane.) If you’ve recorded your audition, give yourself some space before you listen so that you can assess it in an honest way. Immediately after an audition we are still emotionally connected and it can be hard to hear ourselves objectively. After you listen and decide what you’d like fix, work to change what you didn’t like as opposed to fixating on the fact that something wasn’t “right.”
8)Finally and most important: The more auditions you do, the better chance you have at being hired. This is a numbers game and you increase your chances of getting work if you sing for as many people as possible and in my humble opinion, if you’ve auditioned for someone and been hired, BE WILLING TO SING FOR THEM AGAIN. People often hear you at one point and put you in a box. If you are singing new rep and haven’t sung for a company in a while, it’s important to have them hear you again so that they have an updated opinion of your talent.
Many singers dislike the audition process. It can be exhausting, expensive and feel futile. But what if we looked at it as an opportunity to attend a cool party where we get to be charming, talented, sexy, well dressed and the center of attention for at least five minutes? Perhaps it would take away some of the “pressure” and would allow the audition experience to actually be fun.
Peace,
Eric
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Audition Horror Story
To celebrate Halloween and audition season, I have decided to share three of the most frightening audition stories ever told. (OK, maybe not the MOST frightening, but certainly scary from a singer's point of view.)
Story number one concerns a baritone on his way to compete in the District Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions. He's barely 25 and it will be his first time competing. He has high hopes and thinks he might at least advance to the regionals. He has rehearsed, practiced and planned and is now on his way to making his dream come true of being named a district winner (before going off to conquer the regionals, semi-finals and then eventually being named a National winner and launching his international career.) En route to the auditions (he has decided to drive to the audition site) he is mentally going through his list of arias, imaging how he looks in his perfect audition attire and thinking about how great it will be when he wins.
Upon arrival at the audition site, he gathers his clothing and collects his European men's carryall containing all the necessary toiletries; his photo, resume and his...Wait! He begins to shuffle through his bag, checks his backseat, looks under both the driver and passenger car seats and realizes (cue Psycho music) he has forgotten his aria book!! He is scheduled to sing in less than an hour and must find some way to get the music for the five arias he is set to sing. Panic! Luckily for him, the audition is at a University that has a large music library. He rushes over and finds a surly library assistant who seems to have no sympathy for his situation and offers little in the way of help. Finally, he throws a bit of divo weight around and gets a REAL librarian. After five minutes of explaining that while he is not a student, he needs to get copies of the music as he is scheduled to sing in, YIKES, 35 minutes. The librarian agrees that he may checkout the vocal scores as long as he leaves his driver's license. Done. After scouring the stakes he realizes that there is one aria that he can't find! Damn you obscure aria in English! He thinks quickly and comes up with an English alternative that he knows but hasn't really practiced much. He returns to the check-out desk where the surly library assistant is giving him a "you ain't gonna' be a winner today" look as he checks out the scores and takes his license and places it in what I can only suppose is an envelope for losers. He rushes back to the audition auditorium with fifteen minutes to change, warm-up and be ready to go.
His time to sing arrives. He gets through his opening aria and is asked for his barely rehearsed English offering. He surprisingly does not fall apart, but on the downside, he is not named a winner (or even given an encouragement award.) The blur that follows includes talking to the three judges who tell him he seemed nervous and a bit unprepared. DUH! But as he drives home, he realizes that while he felt like a zombie for the better part of the audition and the interaction with the judges, he has come away having learned a valuable lesson. Always, ALWAYS check your European men's carryall and make certain you have your music!!
Scary story number two takes place two years later. A young soprano with a spectacular voice is singing Desdemona's "Salce, Salce" from Verdi's Otello in the same high-profile competition from the previous tale. After she finishes, the audience remains spellbound. She seems poised to be one of the winners (and could go all the way!) The judges confer and ask for Fiordilgi's fiendishly difficult "Come Scoglio." Where the Verdi aria is all about smooth, legato, ravishing soft singing and dramatic storytelling, "Come Scoglio" from Mozart's Cosi Fan Tutte is all about wide vocal jumps, coloratura passages and "balls to the wall" singing. She begins and is doing very well, but then a hiccup: she goes for one of the runs and completely blows it. She then lets forth a four-letter word that makes everyone packed inside the theater look up. I believe there were at least three or four audible gasps and suddenly this potential front-runner seems to be like a horse that has been shot in the leg and is falling to the ground. She finishes the aria and looks so mad that it appears she might scream bloody murder. She gives a fake smile and walks off the stage. She has never been heard from since.
The final tale of audition horror comes from a friend of friend so it MUST be true! A young soprano is preparing to sing for Opera Company X that is hearing people for its upcoming season. She is using the company assigned accompanist and before she launches into her introduction to the audition panel, she talks to the accompanist about her desired tempi. She turns and introduces herself and before she completely get the name of her first aria out, the accompanist has launched into the intro. What's worse is that they are playing at a much faster speed than the soprano wants. She thought back to her audition class where they were always told that no matter what the accompanist was doing; sing at the tempo that works for you. Recalling this advice, she begins to sing hoping the accompanist notices that she wants to go much slower. Either the accompanist was not paying attention or had different ideas about how fast the aria should go, because they kept playing at the tempo they had set or the poor soprano had to struggle through her audition piece. She could barely get through it vocally let alone put forth any dramatic efforts. After the aria finished, the panel, which had barely looked up, thanked her in that manner that meant "better luck next time." Furious with the accompanist, the petite soprano, who had seemed so pleasant when she entered the room, took her music from the accompanist and without missing a beat used the book to pop the accompanist upside the head simply saying "Too fast!" She walked out of the audition and rumor has it she never did another audition again.
I relate these (true?) stories mainly for comedic effect, but also to remind myself and the thousands of other singers preparing to audition of three simple rules: 1) Always have your music, 2) Try to refrain from dropping the F-bomb if you make a mistake and 3) No matter what the accompanist does, never, never hit them upside the head.
Peace,
Eric
Story number one concerns a baritone on his way to compete in the District Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions. He's barely 25 and it will be his first time competing. He has high hopes and thinks he might at least advance to the regionals. He has rehearsed, practiced and planned and is now on his way to making his dream come true of being named a district winner (before going off to conquer the regionals, semi-finals and then eventually being named a National winner and launching his international career.) En route to the auditions (he has decided to drive to the audition site) he is mentally going through his list of arias, imaging how he looks in his perfect audition attire and thinking about how great it will be when he wins.
Upon arrival at the audition site, he gathers his clothing and collects his European men's carryall containing all the necessary toiletries; his photo, resume and his...Wait! He begins to shuffle through his bag, checks his backseat, looks under both the driver and passenger car seats and realizes (cue Psycho music) he has forgotten his aria book!! He is scheduled to sing in less than an hour and must find some way to get the music for the five arias he is set to sing. Panic! Luckily for him, the audition is at a University that has a large music library. He rushes over and finds a surly library assistant who seems to have no sympathy for his situation and offers little in the way of help. Finally, he throws a bit of divo weight around and gets a REAL librarian. After five minutes of explaining that while he is not a student, he needs to get copies of the music as he is scheduled to sing in, YIKES, 35 minutes. The librarian agrees that he may checkout the vocal scores as long as he leaves his driver's license. Done. After scouring the stakes he realizes that there is one aria that he can't find! Damn you obscure aria in English! He thinks quickly and comes up with an English alternative that he knows but hasn't really practiced much. He returns to the check-out desk where the surly library assistant is giving him a "you ain't gonna' be a winner today" look as he checks out the scores and takes his license and places it in what I can only suppose is an envelope for losers. He rushes back to the audition auditorium with fifteen minutes to change, warm-up and be ready to go.
His time to sing arrives. He gets through his opening aria and is asked for his barely rehearsed English offering. He surprisingly does not fall apart, but on the downside, he is not named a winner (or even given an encouragement award.) The blur that follows includes talking to the three judges who tell him he seemed nervous and a bit unprepared. DUH! But as he drives home, he realizes that while he felt like a zombie for the better part of the audition and the interaction with the judges, he has come away having learned a valuable lesson. Always, ALWAYS check your European men's carryall and make certain you have your music!!
Scary story number two takes place two years later. A young soprano with a spectacular voice is singing Desdemona's "Salce, Salce" from Verdi's Otello in the same high-profile competition from the previous tale. After she finishes, the audience remains spellbound. She seems poised to be one of the winners (and could go all the way!) The judges confer and ask for Fiordilgi's fiendishly difficult "Come Scoglio." Where the Verdi aria is all about smooth, legato, ravishing soft singing and dramatic storytelling, "Come Scoglio" from Mozart's Cosi Fan Tutte is all about wide vocal jumps, coloratura passages and "balls to the wall" singing. She begins and is doing very well, but then a hiccup: she goes for one of the runs and completely blows it. She then lets forth a four-letter word that makes everyone packed inside the theater look up. I believe there were at least three or four audible gasps and suddenly this potential front-runner seems to be like a horse that has been shot in the leg and is falling to the ground. She finishes the aria and looks so mad that it appears she might scream bloody murder. She gives a fake smile and walks off the stage. She has never been heard from since.
The final tale of audition horror comes from a friend of friend so it MUST be true! A young soprano is preparing to sing for Opera Company X that is hearing people for its upcoming season. She is using the company assigned accompanist and before she launches into her introduction to the audition panel, she talks to the accompanist about her desired tempi. She turns and introduces herself and before she completely get the name of her first aria out, the accompanist has launched into the intro. What's worse is that they are playing at a much faster speed than the soprano wants. She thought back to her audition class where they were always told that no matter what the accompanist was doing; sing at the tempo that works for you. Recalling this advice, she begins to sing hoping the accompanist notices that she wants to go much slower. Either the accompanist was not paying attention or had different ideas about how fast the aria should go, because they kept playing at the tempo they had set or the poor soprano had to struggle through her audition piece. She could barely get through it vocally let alone put forth any dramatic efforts. After the aria finished, the panel, which had barely looked up, thanked her in that manner that meant "better luck next time." Furious with the accompanist, the petite soprano, who had seemed so pleasant when she entered the room, took her music from the accompanist and without missing a beat used the book to pop the accompanist upside the head simply saying "Too fast!" She walked out of the audition and rumor has it she never did another audition again.
I relate these (true?) stories mainly for comedic effect, but also to remind myself and the thousands of other singers preparing to audition of three simple rules: 1) Always have your music, 2) Try to refrain from dropping the F-bomb if you make a mistake and 3) No matter what the accompanist does, never, never hit them upside the head.
Peace,
Eric
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Opera sells itself (if you can just get them into the theater)
Last night I performed in the dress rehearsal of Puccini’s La bohème. The audience was made up mostly of high school age students and was peppered with supporters of the opera and various friends and family of cast members. We all know that Puccini crafted a masterpiece. Act I introduces us to the four Bohemians and Mimi. We get to see their world, know what drives them emotionally and see the relationship of Mimi and Rodolfo unfold. In Act II, we see their greater world as they venture out into Paris in the 1830s. We also meet Musetta and get an understanding of the volatile relationship she and Marcello have. Act III the drama really begins to take shape as we get a deeper understanding of the intensity and passion of the relationships between the two couples. By Act IV we see that both Rodolfo and Marcello are back to being single men. The other two friends (Schaunard and Colline) come in and the boys are back to having a good time. Suddenly Musetta enters and says that Mimi is dying. Throughout the wrenching last act Mimi and Rodolfo are reunited along with Marcello and Musetta. Mimi slowly dies as all the Bohemians surround her to say farewell. I have seen La bohème live on three occasions and listened to it more times than I can count. But every time we get to the end it gets me and I get choked up.
This was my first experience singing bohème and it was exciting to have an audience that was so invested in the story. They responded to the humor, the romance and the depth of loss that all interweave throughout this fascinating story. Most of the audience members were “new” to opera, yet were not afraid to laugh, hoot when Marcello and Musetta reunite in Act II, respond to the thrilling Act III quartet and applaud madly for the artists at the curtain call. It confirmed what I’ve always believed about opera; the artform sells itself. These composers were men of the theater and had a sixth sense about how to combine text, music and character that could capture an audience. I’m always happy when a “younger” audience gets to experience opera because they get its visceral impact and even though it is performed in a large theater and in a foreign language, still seem to feel an intimate connection with the main characters.
Maybe one of the problems with attracting people to opera is not the artform, but the idea of what a trip to the opera is. Many people still think it is a gathering of the elite, but a recent rebuff of an article about opera being for the 1% shows that many passionate opera lovers come from a diverse background:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/deceptivecadence/2011/10/13/141319827/opera-is-for-the-99-heres-what-you-told-us
Perhaps the real solution is to get away from so much formality and let the audience feel that they can truly respond to the action happening on stage. Of course you want the audience to be enraptured by the gorgeous arias, remain spellbound by the acting and respond generously at the curtain call, but you also want them to feel that the entire operatic experience is one that engulfs all the senses (listening to amazing music, tasting great cocktails while at intermission, the romantic scent of their date’s new perfume, the sight of people from all walks of life and the feeling of emotional impact of having experienced an amazing performance.) Isn’t that what great theater does?
Peace,
Eric
This was my first experience singing bohème and it was exciting to have an audience that was so invested in the story. They responded to the humor, the romance and the depth of loss that all interweave throughout this fascinating story. Most of the audience members were “new” to opera, yet were not afraid to laugh, hoot when Marcello and Musetta reunite in Act II, respond to the thrilling Act III quartet and applaud madly for the artists at the curtain call. It confirmed what I’ve always believed about opera; the artform sells itself. These composers were men of the theater and had a sixth sense about how to combine text, music and character that could capture an audience. I’m always happy when a “younger” audience gets to experience opera because they get its visceral impact and even though it is performed in a large theater and in a foreign language, still seem to feel an intimate connection with the main characters.
Maybe one of the problems with attracting people to opera is not the artform, but the idea of what a trip to the opera is. Many people still think it is a gathering of the elite, but a recent rebuff of an article about opera being for the 1% shows that many passionate opera lovers come from a diverse background:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/deceptivecadence/2011/10/13/141319827/opera-is-for-the-99-heres-what-you-told-us
Perhaps the real solution is to get away from so much formality and let the audience feel that they can truly respond to the action happening on stage. Of course you want the audience to be enraptured by the gorgeous arias, remain spellbound by the acting and respond generously at the curtain call, but you also want them to feel that the entire operatic experience is one that engulfs all the senses (listening to amazing music, tasting great cocktails while at intermission, the romantic scent of their date’s new perfume, the sight of people from all walks of life and the feeling of emotional impact of having experienced an amazing performance.) Isn’t that what great theater does?
Peace,
Eric
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Lighten up
Yesterday was a great day of creative discovery. I am singing the role of Schaunard in La boheme and the conductor pulled me aside and told me that I was working too hard at singing the role. He said I needed to find lightness in my sound so that I would, not only be truer to the character, but sing the role better. He told me that there is a time and place for the bigger singing, but much of the role was about the language and expression. I tried it in rehearsal and it worked well. It felt like my voice, but different, less controlled and more “wild” in a sense. Dare I say, playful?
I relate this story because I am in the final week of Julia Cameron’s The Artist Way. For those not familiar, the book is a phenomenal way of tapping into our own creativity and releasing a lot of the interior issues that keep us from being our best creative selves. One of the main themes of the book is synchronicity, where it seems like multiple coincidences are happening. Think a series of events that answer questions asked or solidify thoughts that one is indeed on the right path. During the final week, one works on a sense of faith (trust) and releasing things that bog down our creativity.
Just yesterday morning I filled three pages of my journal with all the bad habits, fears, anger, resentment and pains that I am more than willing to release to be a better creative. So it came as no surprise that I was being asked to do the same thing with the way I produce my singing. Since a singer’s voice is so interconnected with one’s emotions, it can be a very difficult hurdle to jump over when asked to alter what one thinks of as “their sound.” My desire to be taken seriously and considered a “real” artist was clouding how I envisioned what I needed to sound like. By asking me to “lighten up” I was really being asked to let go of what I think I SHOULD sound like and just be. Scary, right?
On the way home from rehearsal I kept thinking: what was I gaining by singing “heavy”? Would singing lighter make others think that I had a less “rich” voice? I think on an even deeper level I felt that if I sang with my “lighter” sound, would I like it? Would others? Of course, this is where trust (faith, belief) comes into the picture. By releasing, I was allowing more of my true self to been seen. By having faith in other ideals, I was letting go. Sometimes we think the real us is less interesting than the imagined “us” we want to present to the world.
We study, practice, rehearse and develop as technicians as a way to serve the stories that we tell. We work to make our singing something beautiful, expressive and correct, but more than that, we want to achieve a visceral high where our voice, our acting and our artistic sensibilities are fused into one vessel for some of the greatest music in the world (in my opinion.) Why add something that makes it harder?
One of my favorite quotes is “Leap and the net will appear.” I have been leaping for that last two years and while it seemed like sometimes the net was not underneath me, I have always landed safely. Each artist has his or her own set of hurdles to overcome on their journey to creating, but we must remember that creating is fun and that sometimes the very thing we need to be that magnificent artist is to just to lighten up.
Peace,
Eric
I relate this story because I am in the final week of Julia Cameron’s The Artist Way. For those not familiar, the book is a phenomenal way of tapping into our own creativity and releasing a lot of the interior issues that keep us from being our best creative selves. One of the main themes of the book is synchronicity, where it seems like multiple coincidences are happening. Think a series of events that answer questions asked or solidify thoughts that one is indeed on the right path. During the final week, one works on a sense of faith (trust) and releasing things that bog down our creativity.
Just yesterday morning I filled three pages of my journal with all the bad habits, fears, anger, resentment and pains that I am more than willing to release to be a better creative. So it came as no surprise that I was being asked to do the same thing with the way I produce my singing. Since a singer’s voice is so interconnected with one’s emotions, it can be a very difficult hurdle to jump over when asked to alter what one thinks of as “their sound.” My desire to be taken seriously and considered a “real” artist was clouding how I envisioned what I needed to sound like. By asking me to “lighten up” I was really being asked to let go of what I think I SHOULD sound like and just be. Scary, right?
On the way home from rehearsal I kept thinking: what was I gaining by singing “heavy”? Would singing lighter make others think that I had a less “rich” voice? I think on an even deeper level I felt that if I sang with my “lighter” sound, would I like it? Would others? Of course, this is where trust (faith, belief) comes into the picture. By releasing, I was allowing more of my true self to been seen. By having faith in other ideals, I was letting go. Sometimes we think the real us is less interesting than the imagined “us” we want to present to the world.
We study, practice, rehearse and develop as technicians as a way to serve the stories that we tell. We work to make our singing something beautiful, expressive and correct, but more than that, we want to achieve a visceral high where our voice, our acting and our artistic sensibilities are fused into one vessel for some of the greatest music in the world (in my opinion.) Why add something that makes it harder?
One of my favorite quotes is “Leap and the net will appear.” I have been leaping for that last two years and while it seemed like sometimes the net was not underneath me, I have always landed safely. Each artist has his or her own set of hurdles to overcome on their journey to creating, but we must remember that creating is fun and that sometimes the very thing we need to be that magnificent artist is to just to lighten up.
Peace,
Eric
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
