Sunday, January 27, 2013

The Incredibly True Story of How I Pissed Off Robert Goulet's Widow

I blame one of my Facebook friends, I really do. She posted the video - I viewed it and I told myself, "Don't read the comments, don't read them - it's like reading comments in the news. You'll just get in trouble." Well. I did.

As most of my friends know, Julie Andrews is why I'm a singer. So when I see her doing something that is, at least by contemporary standards, wildly inappropriate, I cringe. So when I saw a video of her singing "Porgy, I's your woman now" with Robert Goulet (another childhood favorite), all I could think was "facepalm." It is sung beautifully. How could it not be? But there are several things about it that are just wrong.

  1. The opera is written specifically for African-Americans. The Gershwin estate forbids productions of the opera from casting non-African-Americans.
  2. Julie Andrews and Robert Goulet are the two whitest people on the face of the earth.
  3. I really have trouble with white people singing black dialect. I even have trouble with black people singing black dialect if it sounds contrived. In other words, if it's too self-consciously done. 
  4. Julie Andrews is the queen of English diction. Proper British diction. It's why I fell in love with her in Mary Poppins and Sound of Music. Not only is she the whitest person in the world, she is the most British. Not only is Porgy and Bess African-American, it's African-American
  5. While many songs from P&B are standards - "Summertime," "I got plenty of nuttin'", "It ain't necessarily so," - "Porgy, I's your woman now" is not. It is show-specific. 
  6. Even if this was part of a Gershwin tribute, there are other duets that could've worked.
So I intended to watch the video, maybe repost it, and that'd be the end of it. And then I decided to see what other people thought.

And someone said [paraphrasing], "Wow, that's amazing. Can you imagine if they'd done that together on Broadway?"

I couldn't help it. I felt compelled to educate (yeah, I know, no one asked me). "Are you kidding? Do you not know that this is an African-American opera? They couldn't do this on Broadway. In fact, this duet probably should never have happened."

As soon as I hit send, I knew that last line shouldn't have been written.

A few hours later, I had an email that said, "Vera Goulet has responded to your post."

Uh-oh.

Did she ever. In fact, even though my post was in response specifically to the idea of their being in that show on Broadway, and to a lesser extent about the inappropriateness of the duet, Mrs. Goulet took it personally. And let me have it. Also personally.

She wrote approximately 20 posts over the space of 12 hours about how vane [sic], ignorant, stupid and arrogant I was. And how she assumed I was a failed frustrated wannabe singer/actress and, after Googling me, that she was right in that assumption. I was nothing more than a vocal coach in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin. I was as far from Broadway as I could be. I was a nothing and a nobody. In listening to my singing on my website, Julie Andrews had nothing to worry about. (Did I say she did???) And I was not going to destroy her husband's legacy. (Did I say I wanted to???)

I tried to apologize and to make clear that I loved both of them as artists and that the piece was sung beautifully, but that I did not like the piece. It was not to be accepted. 

I also made it clear that while I apologized for the comment, I did not apologize for my profession. I am a voice teacher. I am proud to be a voice teacher. I love my job and it is my passion.

Mrs. Goulet's response was that I gave myself too much credit. Then other people started posting insults - one of which said, "If you know so much, why haven't we ever heard of you? When was your last world tour? When did you sing a command performance for the Queen of England?"

At that point, I decided to delete all of my posts because I simply did not want to have any more emails from strangers attacking me. I won't even look at the comments to see if anyone else has attacked or even defended me.

And the thing I feel the worst about is that people misunderstood my opinion as my disliking either of the artists. The times were different. I'm sure if I saw it back in the early 70s (guessing the time based on Goulet's sideburns), I would've loved it back then. I'm basing my opinion on what I know now.

While I was shocked at the vehemence of the Widow Goulet's attack, and the personal nature of it, after doing a little Googling of my own, I found that I am not the first person to feel her wrath.

It sounds like she adored her husband and he adored her. The part in the article about him taking care of her after she wrecked his car in a terrible accident and had to go through massive reconstruction surgery - it touched me. I'm sure she feels his loss keenly and I respect that. I'm sorry that I offended her and that she took it so personally.

But I reiterate - I am proud of my profession. This is my passion. It may have begun as something to do between singing gigs, but this is who I am now and I could not be happier with the direction my life has taken.



Friday, September 14, 2012

Defying Stagnancy

Too late for second guessing -
Too late to go back to sleep -
It's time to trust my instinct,
Close my eyes - and leap!

So now that my studio is full of wonderful, talented people, I have a teaching job at a university, and my remodeling project is almost done, what am I going to do?

Move.

And I've had second thoughts, particularly when I sit on my deck in my sky chairs on a nice evening and look out over my pond. Or when any one of my students sing particularly wonderfully (which happens pretty much every day).

But in an addition to being a teacher, I'm a singer. And honestly, I haven't gotten to sing as much as I want to and as much as I still can. I proved that to myself in July when I sang in the Hal Leonard Showcase at the NATS Conference in Orlando. I proved it before that at the MacDowell Club Concert, singing the Chausson "Chanson Perpetuelle" with a piano quartet. I still have something to offer as a singer and, for some reason, it's not happening here in Milwaukee.

I'm through accepting limits
'cause someone says they're so
Some things I'll never change
But till I try, I'll never know

I can't change that I'm returning to Baltimore 17 years older than I was when I left. (I was only supposed to be here three years!) And I can't guarantee that I'm going to get singing work there, but since I'm not getting any here, it can't be worse. I  haven't been onstage in a role since 2004 and haven't been in an opera since 2001 (I'm not counting 2003's Viva la Mamma because my role was so truncated by the choice to replace recitative with dialogue that I only sang ONE solo line).

I am fulfilled by my teaching and I want to continue doing it. But it's not enough. I still need to sing. Somewhere. And the fact is that there are more opportunities for me out east than there are here.  Right now I feel like I'm just treading water and not getting anywhere. 

Unlimited - my future is unlimited.

I'm here till the end of May (big studio recital on Mother's Day - it'll be a "Best of" recital!) and then I'm going back to where I was the happiest as a performer. I'm hoping that I'll be able to combine the joy that I feel as a teacher with the joy I had as a performer. And maybe I'll find that I'm happier teaching and will scale back my performing. But till then ...

Everyone deserves a chance to fly.

I'm oiling up my wings in anticipation.

Lyrics courtesy of http://www.hamienet.com/lyrics90481.html




Friday, August 10, 2012

When to let a student go

If leaving a voice teacher is difficult, think about how difficult it is to let someone go.

First of all, you're not "firing" someone in the sense that you are paying someone and that person isn't working out, so you let them go to use your money more efficiently. Your student is paying you to teach them, and letting them go means you have to find a new source of income.

Also, because singing is such a personal thing, you want to make sure that you aren't affecting someone's self-esteem. You don't want to have someone never sing again because you let him/her go as a student.

I have never let a student go because he/she couldn't sing. If I did, I would be acknowledging that I have limitations as a teacher. I do not. :D

I have let a couple of students go because:

There was some organic vocal issue - nodules, hemorrhage - that they weren't dealing with and I felt that to continue was pointless and would cause further damage.

No-shows and excessive cancellations - these are particularly annoying to me. I find that the last-minute cancellations came the most often from adult students who weren't taking their lessons seriously. My MS/HS kids are the most dedicated students. They aren't "dabbling." This isn't something they're doing because they "gave up smoking/got a divorce/just want to do something for me."My MS/HS kids want to sing better in choir, get cast in the musical, and maybe, just maybe, go into music or theater. This is why I don't take adult amateurs any more. I'll work with adults who have some musical outlet - choir directors, community theater - something where the goal is clear and not something nebulous. Perhaps I just haven't met the right adult amateur.

They clearly didn't want to be there. These are the students who are taking lessons because their friends are taking lessons or because their parents' friends' children are taking lessons. They don't want to perform. They don't like performing, they like practicing even less, and they spend most of their lesson times checking their phones to see how close we are to being done, looking in the mirror and checking their hair, and sighing and rolling their eyes at new exercises. I have to say that I have had very few of these students in recent years. But these are also ones who no-show and cancel excessively.

This is different from the student who doesn't want to perform but wants to sing better as part of an ensemble. I don't mean to imply that I have no use for non-performers. I prefer working with performers because I love coaching them on performance practice and style. But if someone doesn't want to perform but still loves to sing and takes joy in the process, that's wonderful. That's more than enough.

They don't take summer lessons. In the last few years, I've been really liberal about summer lessons. There are some teachers who insist that you take a full semester of lessons over the summer or at least PAY for a full semester of lessons. My requirement is that you try to take lessons, ideally four. Part of this is because I have a wait list, and if I'm giving lessons to new people and then I have to turn them away in the fall because someone is coming back who didn't intend to take lessons all summer, well, that just seems unfair. "Thanks for your money this summer, but my real student is coming back." It's a question of maintaining what we accomplished during the school year and it's also a business decision. This is my primary source of income. If I can't count on a student for income in the summer and someone else has shown enthusiasm for lesson, that person gets the spot.

They don't pay me on time. See "business decision." I love teaching. I really, really do. But it is my primary source of income, and if someone consistently pays me late, it means I might be paying someone else late as a result. This isn't as much of an issue as it was when I was first teaching or when I was single, but it's a question of respect. I send money emails out every Saturday during the school year, and every Thursday or Friday out during the summer. Not paying me shows a lack of respect for what I do.

Even with all these reasons, it's difficult for me. Sometimes I just wait for them to graduate, if the behavior isn't too egregious.

Going back a few paragraphs, it's the idea of taking joy in the process. If the process is joyless for me, it's probably joyless for the student as well. And perhaps it's a question of the student not knowing when to leave the teacher and acting out rather than coming out and saying, "It's time for me to go." If this is the case for you as a student, please read my previous blog entry.





When to leave your voice teacher

The relationship between teacher and student can be a very close one, and a hard one to leave. It can be hard to know when it isn't working. I have studied with six teachers since I was 18 years old. I've been fortunate - three of those have been fantastic. The other three weren't bad teachers - we just weren't a good fit. (There were a couple of others with whom I really wasn't a good fit, but I was able to recognize it early enough so I didn't waste any time.)

I won't name the teachers with whom I didn't click but I can tell you why.

1.  My very first voice teacher was a bass who believed in lowering the larynx in order to create space. I tried that for a week. It hurt. I sounded like I was pulling my foot out of a bucket of mud. I gave that technique a week, thinking, "This doesn't feel good, this doesn't sound good... but Mr. X says it's what I have to do, so I guess it's right." At my first lesson after this idea was introduced to me, I gamely began to sing "Voi che sapete" and immediately burst into tears. I said, "I sound like an old woman! If this is what classical singing is all about, I don't wanna do it!" The poor guy - he was only a few years older than me. He mumbled awkwardly, "Well, we'll try something else." He left the college after that year. I probably would not have left him on my own. I may have had the courage to express how I felt but I wouldn't have had the guts to go anywhere else.

2. My third teacher (first post-college) was a lovely woman but I was the best student in her studio, which was a spot I did not want to occupy at that point in my life. I wasn't good enough yet to be the best student in anyone's studio. I wanted to have people better than me that could inspire me to continue to improve. I used the excuse of moving across town in order to switch teachers. (Moving was something I frequently did to get out of things, including my first marriage.)

3. My fourth teacher was a famous Romanian soprano who defected to the United States after the Communist overthrow of her country. She was also a lovely, lovely person and had some fantastic students who went on to great international careers. She didn't quite know what to do with me. She gave me repertoire that was totally wrong for me, and I didn't know any better. I did two auditions at which the panel said, "Miss Thomas, why are you singing this aria?" and I answered, "Because my teacher assigned it to me." The second time I added, "This is the second time I've been asked that question. Why do you ask?" and I was told, "This is an aria for a dramatic mezzo and you are a lyric." Up to that point, I knew nothing about fach. I thought that if it was in the mezzo aria book, I could sing it. I spent a lot of time with recordings of lyric mezzos to know just what I was supposed to sing. Then when I was assigned another big honking dramatic piece, I knew enough to stop taking lessons. (I also had the excuse of ... moving.)

So here are things that you should think about:

1. Does it feel good? Are you uncomfortable? Does it feel unnatural? That's different from something you're not used to. If it hurts, it's not good for you. If you're hoarse (not just tired), it's not good for you.

2. Are you being challenged? Does your teacher have students who are your level or higher? If he or she isn't used to working with people at a high technical level, he/she might not have enough to offer you.

3. Are you singing the right repertoire? This will require you to know just what the fach you are. :) This doesn't mean that you shouldn't sing something outside your comfort zone. It means that you shouldn't sing rep that is too heavy for your current level of ability. If you are a light lyric soprano, you shouldn't be singing Wagner. If you are a young lyric mezzo, you shouldn't sing "O mio Fernando." (See "Miss Thomas, why are you singing this aria," above.) If you are a legit MT soprano, you probably shouldn't be singing "Astonishing" in a full belt. If you are a belter, you probably shouldn't be singing a very high legit soprano. At least not in auditions. You can work on those pieces for technical reasons, but if they aren't songs in your fach, then don't perform them for anyone who counts.

Other clues that it's time to go:

  • You're dreading your lesson
  • You cancel at the last minute with lame excuses
  • What your teacher is saying is not making sense to you and you don't know how to express that you aren't getting it, so you just nod and smile
If you can't talk to your teacher about your concerns, it's not a good fit. And your teacher probably senses it, as will be discussed in my next blog, "When to let a student go."



Friday, July 6, 2012

The Ultimate Music Theatre Audition Workshop

On June 29, I attended The Ultimate Music Theatre Audition Workshop, presented by Stage Door Access. This was a pre-conference workshop that I was grateful to have been paid for by Cardinal Stritch University (as well as the registration fee for the conference itself).

I got some interesting information, both from the written handouts and from the audition master class, which I'll summarize here:

HEADSHOTS
  1. Should look like you
  2. Use natural makeup and lighting 
  3. You can show more than just your head
  4. COLOR - no more B&W
  5. Be age appropriate
RESUME
  1. Don't include your home address or social security number (really? who'd put that on a resume?)
  2. Make sure the overall formatting is clear
  3. Don't include years
  4. Put role credits before ensemble credits
  5. List credits in appropriate categories
  6. Format the training section clearly
  7. Be clear and conside
THE SONG AUDITION
  1. Do your homework. What's the style of the show? How should you look?
  2. If your song is angsty, find a moment of lightness. Don't be monochromatic.
  3. Less is more in terms of movement. Find more stillness.
  4. Work the song as a monologue, not just as a poem.
  5. A great audition is something that is watchable.
  6. Bring a piece that can be played by the accompanist. If it's too hard, bring your own accompanist or bring a different piece. [As I've said, if I can't fake my way through it, don't bring it!]
  7. Be very clear in conveying tempo to the pianist before beginning. Do not clap, snap or tap it!
  8. Take charge of your audition!
  9. If you say something more than once, find a different motivation the 2nd time.
  10. It's not attitude - it's specificity. Deal with every moment in the song.
  11. Earnestness is a turn-off. Find the line between earnestness and immediacy.
  12. Text should follow the musical direction.
  13. Be present in the room - be aware and energized! (This is not the same as earnest and overeager.)
  14. Don't state your name or the name of your song. We already have it.
  15. Leave when you're done - let them call you back if they want more. Don't hang around and wait. It's awkward.
THE DANCE AUDITION
  1. Get out of your head. 
  2. The audition is less about the steps and more about conveying the energy and expressing what you have to express.
  3. Are you willing? That carries a lot more weight than whether or not you can dance. Show that you are willing to try.
AUDITION BOOK
  1. Have both legit and belt pieces available.
  2. Comedic
  3. Character
  4. Standards
  5. Three ring binder with your music in non-glare sheet protectors 
Do NOT bring anthologies! [This is a total violation of copyright law!]

ATTIRE
  1. This is much more casual than it used to be. Wear what you'd wear to a brunch where you're going to meet your future in-laws.
  2. Be appropriate to style - contemporary shows demand contemporary wear.
  3. Don't wear costumes - but do suggest the character.
  4. Don't wear loose baggy clothes - let the clothes reveal your body. (But not too much!)
  5. Make sure that you can move in your clothes and that they aren't distracting.
BUSINESS/NETWORKING
  1. The creative team is behind the table. Know who they are. Know what they do.
  2. Befriend casting directors - go to auditions, workshops, industry functions.
  3. Make friends with the room monitor.
  4. Treat the accompanist professionally.
  5. Keep an audition journal - know who is behind the table, record the feedback, the total experience.
  6. Treat the audition like an interview. When it's over, let go.
MISCELLANEOUS
  1. The purpose of the audition should be to show yourself in your entirety and to match you to a role.
  2. The panel wants you to be good as much as you want to be good.
  3. Musical theater performers must have good musical chops and be able to learn music quickly.
  4. Make the piece appropriate to the audition. 
  5. Have a flexible voice. Be able to approach a phrase in a variety of ways - belt, mix, head
  6. Some songs people are sick of because they're good audition songs. That's why they're so frequently done.
  7. "Don't sing Sondheim" - baloney. Some Sondheim is too hard to play, some is not. [See difficulty, above.] Some are not melodic. Some are. 
  8. Signature songs - individuality is important. If you can sing "Don't rain on my parade" without doing a Barbra Streisand impression [or a Lea Michelle impression of a Barbra Streisand impression], then do it.
  9. Don't look overeager or crazy.
  10. It's important to have an agent in NYC. Have the right agent for where you are in your career.

Benjamin Britten Centenary Celebration

On Sunday, July 1, 2012, I was blessed to perform two duets at the 52nd NATS Conference in Orlando. The composer was Benjamin Britten, 1912-1976, whose music I'd only performed before in opera - as Florence and Nancy (two separate productions - Peabody and Opera North) of Albert Herring and in the chorus of Peter Grimes at Lyric Opera of Chicago.

I sang "Mother Comfort" with Beverly O'Regan Thiele, a fantastic soprano, and the opening of "Canticle II" with Steven Stolen, a wonderful tenor. We were accompanied by Hal Leonard's vocal music editor, Richard Walters. The other singer on the program was baritone Kurt Ollmann.

I had been more nervous about the former, because I had more solo lines. However, as it turned out, the Canticle presented more challenges. Steven and I were the voice of God in this piece - consequently, everything had to be together. Onsets, phrasing, releases - our blend had to be impeccable.

And it was! It was such a fantastic experience. I got great feedback from my colleagues, those on stage and those in the audience. (Wanna know pressure? Sing for a roomful of voice teachers!)

And I didn't have any performance anxiety - except for burping. I don't know where that has been coming from. But I'll take it over dry mouth, shaking, and mental fuzziness any day!

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Worst things that ever happened to me as a performer


  1. When I walked up my skirt and fell into the first violinist's music stand (see previous article on performance anxiety).
  2. When I had violent abdominal cramps while wearing spandex in A Cudahy Carolers Christmas and wound up going up on a line and breaking character for the first and only time in my life;
  3. When I pierced my finger with a spindle during a production of Flying Dutchman at Washington Opera.
  4. When I was thrown off someone's back while on tour with Pirates of Penzance and crashed into the stage, dislocating my knee and, as I found out much later, cracking my coccyx. (Didn't know that until I lost weight and no longer had padding on it.)
  5. When I came home from a Friday luncheon and decided to take a nap, only to sleep through a wedding I was supposed to sing that day - although I woke up deathly ill and wound up being so sick I couldn't sing or teach for two full weeks.
  6. When I drooled on someone's head on stage .... I was in Rosina at the Skylight, playing Pilar, the slutty landlady, and at one point, the soprano ties a scarf in my mouth and leads me across the stage to a blindfolded man singing a love song (he's singing to the soprano, but I think he's singing to me). Well, the scarf hit my tongue in just the right way to make me salivate. So I'm sucking back this mouthful of drool the whole time, trying frantically to keep it in my mouth - and just as I get on top of the baritone - I failed. Fortunately, he was wigged (and still blindfolded) and wasn't aware of it. I was totally humiliated!! 
The good far outweighs the bad, but those things do stick out in my mind!