Golden age musicals - why you should bother

I hear this way too often from people:

"Why should I sing golden age music? It's so old-fashioned! I don't know any of it."

• Technique. Today's musicals tend to be very text-driven, and aren't necessarily vehicles for mastering things like legato and breath management. (And that doesn't make them less than, just different.)
• Revivals are big nowadays. Two revivals were nominated this season - Kiss Me, Kate and Oklahoma (see below). 
• Sometimes it's right for the audience where you'll be performing. A retirement community will appreciate a Rodgers & Hammerstein song more than they will something from Pasek & Paul. Usually.
• Because choosing repertoire is one of my superpowers. If I'm picking it for you, it'll be right for you. Trust my judgment.
  AND
• History. Most of all, history.

Oklahoma won the Tony for Best Revival of a Musical. It's supposed to be fantastic, and I want to see it. And I don't even like the show. However, the way they're looking at it is more contemporary - the accompaniment is a band, rather than a full orchestra, the casting is diverse, and the direction takes it to a darker place than most traditional productions.

In undergrad, I wrote a paper about the characters of Curly in Oklahoma and Figaro in Le Nozze di Figaro and how groundbreaking both of them were for their times. Frank Rich pretty much wrote the same thing in this article:

"At its birth, the show was to its America what Hamilton has been to ours: both an unexpected record-smashing box-office phenomenon and a reassuring portrait of our past that lifted up theatergoers at a time of great anxiety about the country’s future. Its Broadway opening took place less than 16 months after the attack on Pearl Harbor, when America was shipping its sons off to war and still digging out of the Great Depression. Like Hamilton, too, Oklahoma! was deemed artistically revolutionary for its time. A self-styled “musical drama” rather than a musical comedy, it dispensed with the usual leggy chorus line and leveraged its songs to advance character and plot."

There is a vast history of American musical theater, going back before Oklahoma! Knowing about it makes you a more well-rounded singer. 

And again - trust my judgment.

We GOT this! (Showcase Recap)

Just wanted to dash off a few words about the recital (reworded from emails I sent out yesterday to the studio).

I like to call the final recital of the year a studio showcase rather than a recital because recitals imply prim and proper stand-in-one-place and sing and that sounds boring to me. (In opera, that kind of performing is called "park and bark.") Sometimes there's a need for that - prepping for a competition, college auditions, things like that - but generally, I prefer a more active kind of performance, both as a performer and an audience member.

This past Sunday was our studio showcase at Springwell Senior Living in Mount Washington, and it was very successful. We had a lovely turnout from both studio family and friends and the residents at Springwell. Performers sang with energy and commitment, dedication to their text and were excellent collaborators in their ensemble pieces. Studio community is something that is very important to me - having my students all support each other and work together are elements that, in my opinion, set our studio apart from other studios.

I can't tell you how pleased I was with everyone. No one looked uncomfortable, scared, or as though they didn't want to be there. There were some really heartfelt and moving moments, a lot of dang funny ones, and a really great sense of camaraderie and a feeling of "we're all in this together and we GOT this."

Things I learned -

• I have to work with my students on bowing. I keep saying this. I kept saying it in Milwaukee too. Someone remind me.
• I need to check the lighting as it's going to be once they adjust the lights for the performance. The spot I designated as the edge of the "stage" was a little too far forward and put the performers in shadow.
• If you specify "booklet" when you upload your programs to the Staples website, it comes out much smaller than the standard 8-1/2x11" paper per page. A little hard to read for a senior living center audience. Oops. Perhaps next time I'll call upon people to help me print those out (like maybe 10 copies per participant) to help defray the cost and make it more legible. (I was running low on ink in my own printer and figured outsourcing it would be better...)

Next year I'd like to have a holiday recital in December and a final showcase in June. I'll be looking for places to do them - ideally, I'd like to find a place where we can rehearse in the space the day before for the June performance. I've also spoken to Cyd Wolf at Germano's about doing a studio cabaret, to which we would charge a small admission fee per attendee (I'm thinking $5) and where they could eat excellent food while enjoying the studio performances.

So many possibilities - we can do it! WE GOT THIS!!

My take on studio recitals (subtitle: Hi, ho! Come to the Fair/Recital!)

I recently took a course on organizing my studio (not that I haven't been running my own studio for 20 years, but hey, you can always do things better). One of the exercises that I did was to identify my strengths. This popped up when I was looking for past studio recital programs to use as a template. It was called "Mighty-ness." I thought, in view of the fact that the studio recital is this Sunday, that this was a good way of describing why I do what I do. (The prompts are in bold, my responses following.)

***

I’m often complimented on the way I handle studio recitals. I’m really good at programming music that is entertaining as well educational, that the student is comfortable with (but still challenged by), and at putting performers in an order where no one feels like, “Oh, I have to follow her? NOOOOOOO.” I don’t put people in order from least-to-best, either, because, well, that’s tedious for people to have to sit through and it makes the people early or middle in the program feel like, “Heyyyyyyy,” because it’s obvious that you’re saving the best for last. (It’s very validating for those at the end of the program, however.) I program based on the music that’s being performed - if there’s a great opening song, that’s the opening song, regardless of who is performing it, my most beginning student or my most advanced. I’m good at creating variety and interest, and finding some kind of theme to link things together (or at least to come up with a title that works).
My studio recitals have been smooth, and my expectations are clear so that students know what they have to prepare and how they have to present it. Whether they’re your typical assembly line park & bark recital or a semi-staged ensemble recital, the order is clear, and there’s never a gap of “Oh, whose turn is it now… um… I’m not ready…”

The things I find easy that others find difficult are: 

1. Choosing repertoire
2. Programming (see above - and below)
3. Directing
4. Diagnosing vocal issues and
5. Prescribing solutions
6. Creating exercises off the top of my head
7. Finding really cool and obscure pieces - especially American song
8. Justifying just about anything that I do [including using this to promote the studio recital]

I’m super good at programming! Whether it’s my own cabaret show, a recital or a studio recital, I am really good at picking repertoire and putting together entertaining and moving programs. I’ve had people say, “You could charge money for this!” after my studio showcases (ah, but then I’d really have to get the rights to things I do!). I try to use the idea of cabaret as “personal musical theater” (from a master class) by Amanda McBroom to govern the studio recitals I’ve done. I want people to love to share their songs, not just perform like show ponies.


****  

So that was my "mighty-ness." And hopefully, you'll agree with me after this Sunday's (June 9!) recital, "Come to the Fair!" at Springwell Senior Living Center in the chapel at 3pm! 

Stages of Grief (5? 7?) and Interpreting a Sad Song

I find that a lot of my students, both past and present, love to sing sad, heart-breaking songs of woe and loss. It goes with the emo-ness of youth, I think.

Personally, I gravitate toward funny (some might say nigh-ridiculous) songs, especially in programming. People say comedy is hard. I think tragedy is hard. At least, tragedy that isn't just superficial. 

Which is often the problem with interpreting sad songs. They're just sad sad sad from beginning to end. Come on! "I dreamed a dream" from Les Miserables starts out with "I dreamed a dream in time gone by - when hope was high and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die. I dreamed that God would be forgiving..." Nowhere in there is the word, "DAMMIT." The first time we get the sense that things didn't pan out the way she wanted is at "But the tigers come at night with their voices soft as thunder - as they tear your hopes apart, as they turn your dreams to shame." 

And even then, "He slept a summer by my side - he filled my days with endless wonder." This is a fond memory, at least until: "Then he was gone when autumn came." That's where sadness comes to stay for the rest of the piece. Not earlier. But if you see the movie, the song pretty much slams you in the face with a shovel of sadness all the way through. (Which I don't blame Anne Hathaway for - I blame the director.)

A few years ago, I asked a student to think about applying Elisabeth Kübler-Ross' five stages of grief to a song.  These are

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

Not all of these stages may be present, and not all in equal amounts. I've used this device a lot and it seems to be helpful.

The five stages of grief have since been updated to seven in today's psychological circles (and some say they're completely invalid in the first place). The current stages are:

1. Shock and denial
2. Pain and guilt 
3. Anger and bargaining
4. Depression (reflection/loneliness)
5. Upward turn
6. Reconstruction/working through (in another site, it was called "testing")
7. Acceptance and hope

Clearly, these have been fleshed out a bit more. Depending on what you're working on, the basic five may be enough for you to apply.  You might want to pick from the seven - does your song involve survivor's guilt ("Empty chairs at empty tables")? Shock and denial ("I'm still hurting")? Making a choice to change your life and move on ("Astonishing")?

If you're singing a song of woe, especially one that is really well-known and overdone, how can you apply contrasts using these ideas? And how will you implement those contrasts? With dynamics? With a change in registration? With a change in tempo? A physical change? Where do you wail? Where are you curled up in a vocal fetal position? Where might you sing through clenched teeth (without hurting yourself, of course)?

What can you do to give life and depth to a song that might otherwise be on the "Do not sing" list? 

If you feel stuck, go through the song and see where these steps could apply.

Voice Teacher vs. Voice Coach - Can they co-exist in the same person?

Years ago, I had a young student who walked into her half-hour lesson one day and announced, "Today I want to sing three songs and I don't want to waste any time." I said, "Okay." We skipped the stretching and obligatory how-was-your-week discussion during same and launched into vocalises. She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily as I moved from lip trills to resonance exercises, and from articulation vocalises to scales. We started her first song. She made a mistake in the second line. I stopped to correct the error. We restarted the song. She made it again. We stopped. We started again and got to the same spot and she made the same mistake. I stopped and she snapped her fingers in my face and said, "Let's keep moving! Time is wasting!"

via GIPHY


I stopped and said to her, "If you want someone to play happy little songs while you sing without any correction, then you need someone who plays piano a lot better than I do. If you want to sing those happy little songs and know that they will be RIGHT every time you sing them, that's what I'm here for."

I am a voice teacher. I am here to help you develop vocal technique that you can establish so that you can have consistency in every song you sing. I assign you vocalises and songs that will help you develop that technique. I have taken courses in vocal pedagogy for both classical and contemporary commercial music. I specialize in classical and musical theater. I know both golden age musical theater and contemporary shows - the latter not quite as well as the former because, well, I'm old. Ish. But I'm constantly learning about new shows.

A vocal coach is usually a pianist who specializes on working with singers. Sometimes their focus is on diction, especially in classical music, where they need to know a variety of language rules. Sometimes they are a répétiteur (literally, "repeater"), which means that they are teaching you the notes and rhythms of a song. A good vocal coach will help you find expression in a song, nuance in the text, and explore different possibilities in interpretation. This is a great article about the differences between the voice teacher and the vocal coach.

When you are a professional performer, you may or may not continue to take lessons, depending on where you are in your vocal development. You may hire a coach to accompany you, to help you take your audition or performance repertoire to a new level. When you are a student, particularly a high school student, your teacher often wears both hats. We teach you songs, and we help you develop your technique, and we explore all the elements of the song besides the notes.

I do that. I'm a teacher, first and foremost. I select music for you that will help you grow and develop. In my studio policies, I outline this:

• I will trust Christine’s choice of repertoire assignments for at least 3 weeks. If, after 3 weeks, I don’t like a song, we can discuss a replacement.

The crucial word here, which I have bolded, is trust. I'm not here to teach you songs just for the sake of songs. I'm here to help you on your vocal journey so that you can sing what you want, when you want. But especially when we're first beginning that journey, you need to trust my judgment. I'm not saying we won't work on songs that you want to work on! But they have to be right for you.

Just don't snap your fingers in my face. Please.

A critic and a performer can't live in the same body (at least not at the same time)

Don’t try to create and analyze at the same time

John Cage pointed out they’re different processes. Doing one will interfere with the other.

What will you create today? You can analyze it tomorrow.

https://seths.blog/2019/05/dont-try-to-create-and-analyze-at-the-same-time/

Years ago, I took a writing workshop that said, "You can't be a writer and an editor at the same time." I applied that to music as well, and went home and put a picture of the then-Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel music critic, Tom Strini, on my music stand .... with an X through his face.

This wasn't because I disliked Tom Strini. On the contrary, I liked him quite well. He was always good to me, even on one or two occasions where I didn't deserve it. And he had been my downstairs neighbor for a time. 

The point was - you can't be a performer and a music critic at the same time. You'll never get anything done if, in the moment, you are analyzing, criticizing, evaluating, and self-shaming. This doesn't mean that you shouldn't evaluate your performance. That's what practice is for. That's what building technique is for. That's what your lessons are for - and in your lessons, I'm the one who is analyzing and evaluating so that you can take the feedback with you to work on further improvement.

But when it comes time to perform, you have to do it. You have to create, express, and just be. Put the editor, critic, and analyst aside. For that moment, anyway. 

She's the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - with something to say

I am a huge fan of the show Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, the fourth (and final) season of which I'm watching on Netflix right now. The star and creator and producer and writer of the show is the multi-talented (as well as multi-tasking) Rachel Bloom, who plays the title character, Rebecca Bunch.

Each episode of the show features one to two musical numbers (also co-written by Ms. Bloom). They can be about mistakes Rebecca has made in her relationships (which are legion), about the men in her life and their reactions to her, her friends, her family, etc. They vary greatly in style, from

• big, showy musical theater numbers, complete with Broadway-level choreography; 
• intimate cabaret-style solo performances
• dance music videos

I just happened upon this video of an interview Rachel Bloom did with Seth Meyers about a year and a half ago, and in it, he asks her about using songs to tackle some pretty significant issues, particularly regarding mental health. I loved the way that she describes how a song is structured (this comes in nearly 4 minutes in). She refers to them as musical essays, with the thesis statement the chorus, and the supporting paragraphs the verses and bridges.  She says, "It's a great way to distill something down,  to be like, 'this is what we're trying to say.'"

What are you trying to say in your songs? What is the main point? What is in the supporting material? 

Let's take the song "Someone like you" from Jekyll & Hyde. It's very clear what the point is: If I had someone like you in my life, it would be better. That's the chorus. You sing it three times (and the last time, higher).

The supporting material:
The beginning: I'm an outsider. Nothing has ever worked for me. I've never had any hope.
The second verse: I'm feeling things I never felt before and I think there might be a way out. I know what that is now.

Watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend on Netflix, if you haven't seen it already (caveat: adult content).