Opera Plus self-review

Today I had my MacDowell Club performance of the two Rossini concert arias. In the past few years, many of my performances and auditions have been compromised by performance anxiety which has frustrated me. It's left me vocally dry, unable to unlock my breath, consequently affecting my legato and sostenuto. Sometimes I've gotten around it by emoting a whole lot at least to seem artistic. But sometimes, even that doesn't work.

It has reminded me of when I was a legal secretary and would take pre-employment typing tests. Even though I could type at well above 80wpm, the minute that timer started, I felt as though I was numb, that I was out of my body, that the whole thing wasn't real. And while I did well, I always felt that I could've done better, that my speed was good but my accuracy was not what I expected of myself, and that I would never be hired again. (And I always was.)

This didn't happen today. As I wrote a few days ago, this was my return to operatic singing. I remember the last time I sang operatically and in Italian - it was 1999, Cosi fan tutte with Milwaukee Opera Theater (Dorabella). It was a great performance, but after that, I moved into my house in Tosa and really started to develop my studio, so that was pretty much it. I've auditioned for things in Italian, but performing? Nope.

Today, I felt, as I said before, at home in my classical voice the way I haven't since Cosi. There was a sweet spot on stage that made me feel like "Hey, this is working! I don't need to do anything but let it go!" And Carla Coonan played wonderfully for me. Even though she hasn't accompanied a lot of singers, she was on the spot for everything I did.

So... no performance anxiety. No vocal fatigue. It's kind of a miracle what your body will do for you when you give it what you need. In this case, what I need is Rossini.

This doesn't mean I'm giving up cabaret or musical theater. I'd like to work on Margaret in Light in the Piazza and perhaps Madame Morrible in Wicked, Emma Goldman in Ragtime (no? too belty?), and I still want to work with Ryan on cabaret rep. But this has to be part of my life. It just has to.

Re-defining myself - again

When I came back to Milwaukee in 1996, I thought I had a pretty good idea of who I had become. I was an opera singer. Period. I also had decent skills as a legal secretary, but that was something I could do, not something I was. It paid the bills for awhile - and when I got a tired of typing, I thought I'd give teaching a shot. I figured it would be a little supplemental income between gigs, but that of course I would continue to audition for things and go off and sing wherever I could.

It didn't happen that way. I found, much to my surprise, that I really enjoyed teaching. And more than that - I was good at it. Really, really good at it. And as time passed, my performing slowed down. Partly because I wasn't putting myself out there - partly because this is Milwaukee ('nuff said) - and partly because I got married and changed my name and discovered that people thought I'd left town.

I haven't sung in an opera in 2003 and everything I've sung has been either in English or an English translation. I stopped singing in choruses or church choirs because it interfered with my teaching.

So my definition changed. If someone referred to me as an opera singer, I corrected them and said I was a classical singer. As my interest in contemporary commercial music and the cabaret genre increased, I started to define myself as a singer, as a cabaret artist. And above all that, my professional definition was "teacher."

I no longer thought of myself as an opera singer and I wasn't even sure if I could sing in that style anymore, and wasn't sure that I even wanted to. It is a lot of work to be an opera singer - I would liken it to being a professional athlete (without the salary). You are at a very high level of technical achievement, and you have to keep on top of it consistently. You need to keep in shape and my singing was largely limited to demonstrating scales in other people's lessons. I thought my opera life was over.

And then - Alan Nathan came to UWM to play for a recital for Melanie Helton. Alan had been my chorusmaster at Washington Opera and a major musical figure in my life. I hadn't seen him for 14 years and as I watched him play, I remembered, "Oh yeah... I was an opera singer. I sang at the Kennedy Center Open House, I had roles in operas and sang in the chorus of two of the country's best opera companies. I forgot. That's who I was."

And I missed that part of me. So I started thinking about doing a recital next year, just to see if I still had it and thought about it as possibly a farewell performance, at least to the classical repertoire.

In the meantime, I was asked to be on an Opera Plus program this Sunday with the MacDowell Club. I decided to sing two of the Rossini pieces I was contemplating for the "farewell" recital.

Much to my surprise, it all came back. Despite not having sung in Italian since I don't know when, not having sung in an operatic style since 2001 (there was not enough singing in Viva la mamma to count, really), it all came back to me and boy, did it feel good. I felt at home in my classical voice for the first time since I left Washington. I have no doubt that I will feel the same way in Sunday's performance.

I am an opera singer. I am also a teacher. I am also a director. I am also a cabaret artist. I am a wife and a puppy mama. I have organizational skills I never dreamed I had.

I don't know where I'm going with this new (again) definition. Do I go out and audition again? For opera chorus, for roles? I don't know if I need to do anything. But I know one thing.

I am an opera singer and don't you (or I) ever forget it.

A musical colleague lost, but a musical memory remains

At 7:30 Friday morning, as I was sitting in the lobby of UWM's recital talking to friends about the upcoming day of the NATS auditions, I got a message on my phone.

A high school friend of mine, Bruce Adrian, had died. I don't know all the details of his passing, but Bruce had battled diabetes for some time, and a mutual friend had expressed concern about him earlier in the week. Especially when Bruce, who I once referred to on Facebook as "liberal firebrand," did not respond to the results of the midterm elections. There should've been at least 10 links on Wednesday decrying the GOP taking back the House! When there were none, we were all concerned.

Bruce sang with me in Milwaukee Hamilton High School's swing choir and concert choir, and we were in all three musicals together - Music Man, South Pacific (I'll never forget his coconuts in "Honey Bun"), and Guys and Dolls. He was, as someone else said, "Larger than life." He could imitate a bicycle horn and often did ad nauseum. He made this sound -- "Haugh!" -- that bears a striking resemblance to the sound my dog has been making recently....

After high school, we went our separate ways, as I did pretty much with everyone in high school at that point. We really did not see each other again until our class reunion in 2001 and really reconnected on Facebook a couple of years ago.

I remember him getting into a Facebook argument with a conservative ex-friend (long story, I didn't really know the guy, he was married to someone from HS and was using her FB name to write stuff on other people's walls and I unfriended him not because he was conservative, but because I didn't really know him and he insulted my real friends). The two of them went back and forth debating a topic, with me interjecting a few things before I got tired and went to bed. When I finally did that, there were 16 comments to the original post... when I woke up the next morning, there were 64. All between Bruce and Larry.

Bruce apologized for cluttering up my wall. I said I felt like the hostess with the guests who wouldn't leave, and I left them in the living room and went to bed, only to find them both passed out on the floor surrounded by overflowing ashtrays and empty beer cans. (Which kind of sounds like a swing choir party I remember way back when...) But I didn't mind.

Today I taught a girl the song "All the things you are" by Jerome Kern. As she was singing it, I had a sudden flashback to singing it in swing choir and saw Bruce in my mind, at 17, dancing and singing and full of life.

I wish I'd gotten to see him one more time. I had told my husband how much he would like Bruce - they had the same taste in music and politicians - and I'm sad that neither of them had the opportunity to meet. They really would've liked each other.

Rest in Peace, Bruce Adrian... you are missed.

NATS 2010 - good news!

I am thrilled to announce that, for the 9th consecutive year, the studio had finalists in the Wisconsin NATS auditions. This year, the competition was held at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, and there were 6 contestants from the studio:

Kat Geertsen
Jane Engelking Heer
Lissa DeGuzman
Leah Vogel
K.C. Rasch
Stephanie Kritzell

Kat & Jane were both finalists in the HS Girls Musical Theater division, and Kat took 2nd place! All the other singers received excellent comments from the judges, offering constructive advice largely echoing the advice I've been giving for months. :)

All the musical theater singers were accompanied by Ryan Cappleman, who did his usual outstanding job of providing a musical foundation for them to soar above. Stephanie sang in the HS Girls Classical division and was accompanied by Madison pianist extraordinaire David Sytkowski.

Congratulations to everyone involved. This was probably the best prepared group I've had yet in terms of knowing their music backwards and forwards well before the competition - subsequently, a good time (and a good experience) was had by all!

What NOT to wear

With the NATS auditions coming up, I thought I'd address a couple of things about appropriate attire for performing.

The studio gave a recital last week for a couple of new singers and the kids who are singing on November 5 at UWM. No one dressed horribly but there were a couple of missteps in choice of shoes, dress length, etc. While they didn't bother me all that much, they bothered my father-in-law, who had come from Maryland to visit that weekend.

Now, my father-in-law is rather conservative in every aspect of his opinions. He has a very strong sense of propriety. Some might call him an old fart. I would never say such a thing. Aloud. Or in print. He went on for the rest of the day about the things that bothered him about the performers' attire. He could not get past them, even though he liked the individual performances.

Perhaps his reaction was excessive. (The discussion of it certainly was.) But... if he reacted that way, perhaps someone else will as well. Someone who might be your judge. Or deciding on whether you are coming to their school. Or casting people for an upcoming opera or musical.

So you might as well play it safe. Two articles just came out in the September and November issues of Classical Singer magazine:

"Judged by your appearance: What university professors really think about your audition attire" (September 2010);

and

"Judged by your appearance: What artistic directors and hiring agents really think about your audition attire" (November 2010).

In both articles, both the directors and the university professors were horrified by the number of people dressing overly provocatively in audition settings - clothes too short, too tight, too low, too high (heels). Obviously this applies to females more than males. For men, wear a tie and a jacket. (You can take the jacket off if it works for the piece you're singing, but wearing it at the beginning of the audition makes you look more professional!)

Musical theater gives you a bit more leeway than classical singing. You can be bolder in color, and perhaps a bit more casual in terms of length, but never too short, especially if you are singing on a level higher than the audience.

Dress in a way that works with the material you are singing and what you are auditioning for. I went to the Lyric Opera of Chicago to audition for the chorus and someone came to the audition in a formal gown. That's as bad as showing up in a track suit (which a former Washington Opera chorister did - and I emphasize "former" - she had already ticked off the chorusmaster by being unprofessional in rehearsals in terms of preparation and to show up underdressed just confirmed the level of her cluelessness).

I, on the other hand, dressed around the fact that there was snow on the ground and I was going to wear boots. I needed to pick out something that would hold look good with my boots and would hold up in the car after a 90 minute drive. (I have planned clothing choices around shoes way more often than I really should.) I don't remember what it was, but I got hired!

One time I judged NATS lower college musical theater women and a young woman wore a horizontally striped top that was very tight across her abdomen, and this was not a part of her body that should have been highlighted. Particularly when she inhaled, because there was a great deal of expansion and not only did she expand, so did the stripes! It was very distracting. I had to figure out a way to tell her, "Never wear that again, it makes you look fat," without actually saying, "Never wear that again, it makes you look fat." So I chose to write:

You may want to consider wearing a pattern that does not draw attention to your breathing mechanism and away from your very expressive face.

I hope that got the point across. Which was, of course, "Never wear that again, it makes you look fat."

Summarize:

• If your skirt is short, you have to wear tights or leggings. The latter is more appropriate if you're doing musical theater.
• The little black dress has been deemed practical but forgettable. Find something distinguishing to set you apart.
• If you're going to wear a shawl, be able to work with it so it's not awkwardly sliding about your shoulders or constraining you. Better yet, don't wear a shawl.
• I don't have a problem with open-toed shoes but some of the respondents in the articles did. Everyone has a problem with flip-flops. Don't wear them!
• If it's tight enough that you have to wear Spanx or the equivalent under it to look good (and you've never sung wearing Spanx or the equivalent), it's too tight. If you don't wear them, you'll look like a sausage bursting out of its casing. If you do and you can't get a good low breath, then it doesn't matter how good you look. (Although Marianna said she liked singing in a corset because it gave her something to work against, I want freedom!)

75% of directors admitted that a singer's poor clothing choices might have an effect on his/her being hired. You have to be really good to get away with not looking good (and I'm not talking about physical attractiveness, only clothing).

However, only 42% admitted the opposite - that a well-dressed singer had an advantage. While the first impression is made when you walk on stage, what comes out of your mouth is the deciding factor.

In business, people are told to dress for the position they want rather than the one they have. Your job right now is student. The position you want is performer. Dress authentically and professionally - convey your personality and tell the truth about yourself.

REVIEW - The Singer's Ego: Finding Balance Between Music and Life

I recently read Lynn Eustis' above-titled book. Dr. Eustis is on the faculty of the University of North Texas and did 3 session on Mental Health and the Singer at the NATS conference in Salt Lake City this summer. They were excellent, often cathartic sessions on discussing just why singers are so neurotic. And how teachers can help and also harm their students in their growth as performers and as people. Based on Dr. Eustis' engaging personality and the value of the information in these sessions, I ordered the book before I left Salt Lake City. I looked forward to how I could use her insights as both a singer and a teacher - in fact, the subtitle of the book is "A Guide for Singers and Those Who Teach and Work with Singers." I finally got around to reading it on my recent mini-vacation.

The book is organized like a textbook, with questions following almost every chapter (except, interestingly enough, the one on the benefits of therapy, which I thought cried out for some self-analysis!). It is in two parts: Part 1 - the inner world of the singer; and Part 2 - the outer world. The book could be used with the college music student, and there are many things that would apply more to the singer starting out than to the ... mature singer (i.e., me).

I found Part 1 particularly valuable. There were some extremely good points made about how singers are different from instrumentalists. I especially liked the analogy of how if an instrumentalist's instrument breaks down on him before a performance, he can get it fixed! He can get another one if he has to. He might even have a backup instrument. Pianists are another story - a traveling concert pianist has to work on a different instrument everywhere he goes. If he's famous, he can specify that he wants a Steinway or a Baldwin to play on, but it's still a different instrument.

We are our instruments. If we get sick, don't sleep well, need emergency dental work, get into an argument with someone on the day of a performance - our instrument is affected. We can't go get another one. We have to either cancel or make do, and especially if we've been practicing under perfect conditions, and suddenly fate kicks us in the teeth, it's heartbreaking.

Dr. Eustis doesn't hold anything back. She admits that she is not a natural performer and that while she might have been the best singer at any given audition, she often didn't get the part because she was considered "boring." She had to work at inhabiting the music and letting it take her to the next level. Like her sessions at NATS this summer, her focus is on finding the truth in what you are singing. I found her analyses to be extremely insightful, inspiring, and often humorous.

But one thing about the book bothered me, and that happened in Part 2, the outer world. In the chapters regarding competition and relationships and the world of professional singing, she told stories about other singers who had done her wrong and how their actions affected her. I can appreciate that. I remember a fellow mezzo introducing me to a conductor and saying, "This is Christine Thomas. She's a fine choral alto." At which point I said, smiling, "And a mezzo soloist as well!" My problem was not with her telling these stories, my problem was the specificity of the stories.

At one point, she told a story about how a soprano in an apprenticeship program said something vile to her immediately before going on for the 2nd act, in which she had a major aria to sing that required intense focus. My problem was not with the story itself - it was that she said where it happened, which role she sang, which role the other girl sang and which opera. In this day of the internet, it is not hard to imagine that someone would say, "Gee, I wonder who that bitch was," and with a couple of keystrokes, find out.

I did. I Googled Dr. Eustis, the role she mentioned, and the opera house. In 5 minutes, I had a review of the performance and I found the offending soprano. And then I found her website. If I could do it, so could a casting director. Or an agent. It was 20 years ago - the soprano could have had her own issues that year. Maybe since then she's found Jesus. Or a new partner. Or better medication. Or she just grew up. Why bring this up now? And so specifically?

That specificity spoiled the book for me in some regards because it wasn't necessary. She could have - she should have - kept it much more general. It would make her look better . And I don't think she's a petty person. I've met her - she's not. I think it was a mistake, and one that her editor should've had her change. Telling these stories in a workshop is one thing - but print is forever.

I can recommend the book in so many ways. The insight into the singer's mentality is invaluable - there is so much truth in this book (maybe too much truth) - and she offers the reader a great opportunity to become self-aware by answering the questions at the end of chapters. (What is my goal for my voice lesson? Besides getting there on time? Really, I'm supposed to have a goal? Oops!)

As I've said in the past, quoting the now-defunct TV show Eastwick, "I am here to inspire and facilitate." And Dr. Eustis opens the book with an excerpt from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass, the last two lines of which I found applicable to that thought:

"Leaving it you to prove and define it,

Expecting the main things from you." 

I look forward to her upcoming follow-up, The Teacher's Ego. 

Chick Singers

I was doing some thinking about female pop singers - aka "chick singers" - whose work I particularly enjoy. I'm not including musical theater singers who moved into pop (e.g., Streisand, Midler) because I wanted to be a purist about this, although I may include some who went the other way. Some of these singers may be ones with whom you may not be familiar.

Linda Ronstadt
Ann Wilson
k.d. lang
Alanis Morissette
Patsy Cline
Christina Aguilera
Lady Gaga
Annie Lennox
Amy Winehouse
Pink
Lisa Moscatiello
Shakira
Queen Latifah - on her Dana Owens jazz/pop CD
Patricia Barber - jazz
Joan Baez
Judy Collins
Grace Slick
Florence + the Machine
Fergie
Jennifer Hudson
Juice Newton
Joni Mitchell
Aretha Franklin
Shaun Murphy
Cher (a guilty pleasure)

And locally -

Ellen Winters
Alaria Taylor

Most of these are big voices - if not belters, just big and full and rich.

I'm planning to read The Singer's Ego while I'm on vacation next week and write a review of it. That'll be my next post. There are a lot of things going on in my head right now, many ideas, some restlessness. I'm hoping I can find some kind of focus for them all.