A few brief words before we begin: Check out the Media page! I’ve put up three new arias for your listening pleasure, with three more to come by the end of the week! Also, thanks to Ms. Kathryn Guthrie-Demos, who took the time to look over this post before it was published.
So I’m in my “office”—the coffee shop a half a block from me—and getting my work things set up so I can have a productive day. I’m taking out my laptop and setting out my coffee (without spilling all over said laptop, thankyouverymuch) and a gentleman comes in. I don’t know what he’s selling, but he speaks to the manager of the coffee shop. He chats briefly about whatever service he’s offering, the manager explains his mother is the owner and when the best time is to catch her. They make another minute of cordial chitchat, shake hands, and the man leaves. The manager goes back to his business.
This makes me think about how we might be approaching auditioning bass-ackwards.
How often in this business do we assume we will bowl someone over upon them first hearing us? How many of us assume that as soon as we have a sellable product, someone will buy?
This salesman knew and understood that he was coming by for the first time. He made an acquaintance, then made himself scarce. He knew that he wouldn’t get a sale from that first handshake, and he wasn’t looking for it.
When I was waitressing, we used to call that a “table touch”. It didn’t matter if you actually did anything for that table, it mattered that you appeared and that they knew you were at their disposal. It mattered that they got that good look at your face so they know who their server is when you’re walking by.
In fact, I bet we could learn a lot from the order of service in a restaurant. You don’t try to sell a table the entire menu when you first see them—or if you do, I’d want to accuse you of not knowing what you’re doing. No, you say hello, first. You acknowledge each other as human beings. You establish a rapport. Then you move on to drink orders. Having sized them up, you now have a vague idea of what to offer.
Then the table gets a crucial break from you. They get to take an independent look at the menu, come to some of their own conclusions, and figure out any questions they’d like to ask. Then, that time to peruse the menu given, you return to ask if they need a walk through the menu. We all pretty much know how it goes after that, but for my purposes today, I think that’s where the metaphor ends.
Singing is the same way.
The first time you audition for a company, you say hello. You try to establish some connection as a human being with the chitchat you employ as you wander over to where you’ll sing. Perhaps you do bowl them over with a cold audition and—sight unseen, sound unheard—they hire you on the spot! I’m guessing, though, with the cattlecalls that doesn’t happen too often.
So, having some knowledge of the company, you try to size them up—though the metaphor falls apart a little here, as this part should happen BEFORE the audition. Figure out what they need. What are they doing next season? Do you sing a role from that? Who do you know who sings for them? What do they sound like? Do you have qualities like them? Better armed, you can tailor their “drink order” with your audition aria “menu”. Just like you have that vague impression of whether they’ll go for wine or a soda after your first table touch, after decent research you have a plethora of information to help you figure out what might better serve this company next season.
Unlike waiting tables, though, at a certain point some of us have to realize that a company may have no need for our particular skills, and this is something that should always happen long before we audition.
Is it a company that doesn’t employ young singers or has no young artist system in place? Does it program mostly Wagner, Verdi, and Puccini? Do they give extremely low fees and are on the other side of the country? These are probably all excellent indicators that a given program isn’t going to be for you.
That’s when you pass the table off to someone else.
But back to my salesman. How much better off would we be if we acknowledge that this is a long process? If we went into our first auditions, not thinking we’d get a job, but looking to make a connection? What if we went into an audition looking to establish a business relationship, but not to get anything?
How much more relaxed would we be? And how much more would we be able to give a performance indicative of who we are as artists and people, rather than who we are while nervous and agitated.
Three years ago, when I did my first auditions, I would have been much more at ease had I qualified success as a handshake and a good impression, rather than being hired. In fact, had I been thinking that way, I would have had much more brain power for things like my technique and repertoire, instead of what I was thinking about–having the right dresses and shoes and a resume that looked perfect. (A post for another time and coming up soon, seeing as image is such a big part of the agitation associated with audition season.)
So I challenge all young singers this audition season to have the goal of a handshake and a good impression. DO NOT bank on getting a gig. Do not embark on audition season because you need a job next summer and a summer program would be peachy. Certainly don’t budget around it. Audition to make a connection. Audition to have that handshake and to let them know your name that first time. Audition to get that second audition.
And who knows? Maybe you’ll be so at ease from your lowered expectations, you’ll surprise everyone and get more than a handshake.
Something that will become clear in the course of this blog is the existence of a few amazing sopranos I met in grad school who are near and dear to me. More than anything else in school, it was these ladies who gave me an education. To a one, they are all kind, clear-eyed, and (so rare in this stage in the game) unremittingly honest. Looking at these women—all about my age, all from my alma mater, all incredibly talented—it’s been both interesting and edifying to see what’s happened in all our careers.
Looking at what we’ve all accomplished, it becomes more and more obvious that circumstance, legwork, and opportunity have far more to do with success than talent, ability, or intelligence.
I gleefully have christened myself the underdog. My career is starting slow and steady—no big YAPs, but a lot of low-level main-role stuff, a good church job and a good synagogue job which supplement the day-job and round out my income, plus a few recitals a year that I produce and program myself. I don’t have any high-level contacts, no appearances in any A houses, and no high-paying gigs. It’s not often I sing with a symphony or a full orchestra, but I often get to be the leading lady with a piano.
My Golden Girl* is just that. Her career is already starting to take off—she is “a workhorse and a show horse” to borrow a quote from someone else. Beautiful, with a rich, immediately identifiable instrument and relentless drive, she’s gone from grad degree, to mid-level YAP, straight to minor roles in mainstage productions with B level companies. Outside of her immense talent, presence, musicianship, and personal charm, which is responsible for most of it, she was helped along by the fact that she was relentlessly championed by our alma mater, and one amazing audition at just the right time and place.
The Coloratura Queen* was my best friend and lifeline in grad school. Pragmatic, sensible, and wildly intelligent as a person, hers is an amazingly flexible and wide-ranging instrument–she has one of the most breathtakingly secure and accurate sounds I’ve ever heard. She got into an A level summer YAP in the summer of 2009, finished her degree, and moved to Connecticut, after which singing gigs promptly dried up. A few weekends ago, I had the pleasure of her company over the weekend and at one point she asked me, “Jess, how do you get so much work?”
Now, I’d always thought of Coloratura Queen as something of a mentor. She is the one who always championed pragmatic thinking. In fact, I credit her for all the work I’ve been getting! It was her clear, business-like thinking and her honest assessments of me during many joint-practice sessions that led to my marketing myself as primarily a soubrette (and not a fellow Coloratura Queen) and to play more to my acting strengths, which has led to my being able to stay busy after school. To have her asking me for career advice came as something of a shock.–but it did make me think.
What accounts for the differences in our three careers? We are all the same age, the same general fach, went to the same school, had the same teacher… Why the vast differences in our career paths?
I’ve come up with a few answers. The first is the old real estate maxim: Location, Location, Location. Golden Girl is gifted with both the ability to be in the right place at the right time and the good sense to stick with the people who were aggressively championing her. I’ll have to ask her what she thinks of this assessment, but from an outsider’s perspective, there have been a very few auditions and competitions which have given her the vast majority of her visibility and gigs. The rest have come from her relentlessly using her resources and connections in the area where we went to school. Staying in school gave her a safe place and many, many contacts in the local music scene.
I, of course, finished my MM and immediately packed up for Philadelphia without a cent to my name because I’m adventurous like that. I know for a fact that being here specifically has helped. First of all, Philadelphia isn’t nearly as saturated with singers as Baltimore is. I’ve been able to carve out a niche here as a go-to soprano with my contacts from Center City Opera Theater and various contacts made in undergrad—I went to West Chester University, and many alumni are still in the area. I’m also still using contacts cultivated in Baltimore to get work there and in the DC area. All told, my area of opportunity, as it were, is growing slowly but steadily.
Coloratura Queen moved to Connecticut just after Connecticut Opera folded, and while she had contacts from her time in undergrad there, there simply isn’t a lot of opera in Connecticut anymore. All of her immense talent doesn’t have a local outlet.
The second reason for the discrepancy is who and how many you know. Coloratura Queen went to a great YAP for one summer, but the contacts she made aren’t near where she lives now, or don’t have opportunities appropriate for her. She’s moved far out of range of the contacts she cultivated in grad school. From what she tells me, there isn’t much of an opera social ladder to climb in Connecticut, and what’s there she’s already scaled.
I know many people in the Maryland area and the Pennsylvania area who have opportunities appropriate for a singer of my level and technical ability. I was joking to someone the other day about how I’m so busy because I’m the “best soprano in the area at this price point”. I was joking, but it’s true! In many cases, I’m the best deal in the area, and that keeps me busy! Now, that also means that I need to raise my rates soon, but until I do… I’m the best game in town!
As for Golden Girl? Her circle of contacts has been expanding seemingly daily, and that circle now includes colleagues at B level, national opera houses; state symphonies; and some of the more prestigious recital programs in the region. I’m sure it helps that her husband is also a nationally and internationally performing musician in his own right. This woman not only knows people, but is an incredibly gracious and charming person—meaning that the people who meet with her all want to work with her again because she’s such a joy. This cannot be discounted, and in fact leads me to our third reason.
The third reason is curb appeal. The Golden Girl is physically gorgeous, and is in the enviable state of possessing everything you need to be considered conventionally beautiful in America. She’s blonde, slender, fine-boned, and memorable. As stated before, she is nearly irresistibly charming and a joy to work with.
Now, this isn’t to say Coloratura Queen and I are slouches in the looks or personality department, but I’ll be the first to admit that I have had problems in the past with self-esteem, and sometimes I’ve been known to come across as needy. I’m working on it, and given recent successes, I think I’ve put that part of my personality to rest (professionally speaking, anyway.) But I’m no idiot, and I know that a large part of seeming desirable—both professionally and personally—is to be in control, to not become obsessed with one’s desired outcome, and to have the ability to be relaxed and utterly oneself even in high-pressure situations. This is an ability I’ve only recently mastered, and I know that’s likely a factor. I’m also incredibly lucky to fall into the “conventionally attractive” category, but, while I am beautiful, I don’t have nearly the same “blonde bombshell, traffic-stopping” quality that Golden Girl has in abundance.
For her part, Coloratura Queen has shared with me that she’s mostly an introvert, and, while she is incredibly charming and kind, isn’t always enthusiastic about socializing. She’s learned to network, but (like my outward confidence) it’s a relatively recent skill. Also like myself, she’s conventionally attractive, but not as wildly exotic as our friend.
Now, this is all certainly not to discount the fact that Golden Girl is insanely talented—God knows, that should always be a factor in success—but on thinking about it, circumstance has as much to do with success as anything else. Once you’ve done all the legwork involved in being a marketable, talented, musical singer, the rest is a matter of who, where, and how well you appear to others,
That’s something to think about as we head into yet another audition season: Where are you aiming for and where are you now? Who do you know and who should you know? And how do you appear to others?
I’d love to hear in comments about where (i.e. geographic location) you sing and how it’s directed your career. I’d also love to start a discussion (and probably start a series) on how to control your image. How do you market yourself? How do you dress to project the image you want? What aspects of your personality are you trying to downplay or play up to appeal to your audience and your contacts?
Inquiring minds, as ever, would love to know.
*I am obviously using fictional monikers to protect the innocent.
Endnote: This blogpost is dedicated with love and admiration for Coloratura Queen and Golden Girl, who both graciously gave me permission to post this. Golden Girl emailed me a long, cogent, thoughtful response on what it looks like from the climb up the YAP ladder, and hopefully she’ll give me permission to share some of it, as it was incredibly illuminating. Both of these women have helped shape me as a musician, and I cannot thank them enough.
It probably doesn’t bode well for my sanity that the thought of posting this blogpost makes me think of Lady Macbeth. Still, she may have had a point.
“Screw your courage to the sticking place and we’ll not fail!”
I don’t guarantee a lack of failure in this post, per se, but I’ll at least attempt to have the courage to post it.
Some background: I had the good fortune to go to a university for undergrad which had the practice of recording everything that was so much as burped on their stage. Better yet, as long as you provided the sound technician with a writeable CD, he (good man) would burn any performance you wanted for your own convenience. I had the further good fortune of having a teacher (hi, Dr. C!) who demanded that I listen to every single one of my own performances. Because of this, and because of my trusty old Olympus recorder (from my MM degree) and my Edirol-R09 (best graduation present ever–thanks mom and dad!) I have a substantial amount of recordings going back about five years. To give you an idea of just how much noise that is: if I type my own name into iTunes, it comes up with a playlist that is 2.4 days long.
You want a quick way to be humbled? Go listen to what you sounded like at 20. Then take out a recording of the same piece made when you were 26. Now consider both how far you have and haven’t come. This is where I have to take out my brass set, ladies and gentlemen, because that is exactly what we’ll be doing today.
This post is the first of a series. I have a wealth of examples to pull from, and as vocal progress goes they’re from a very interesting time in vocal development. In terms of major changes, most singers I know in their mid-to-late twenties have the kinds of major changes in their voices happening now that were happening to our bodies when we were teenagers. I have also found that listening to myself has been absolutely, without-a-doubt, the most important thing I have done for myself in my vocal development. Coming back to these old recordings, pairing them with new, and analyzing them is a wildly educational process, and I encourage everyone reading this to do the same–no matter how scary it is.
Originally I was going to make this post out of 5 tracks of Willow Song, one for each year from 2005 to 2010, but that’s a LOT of listening for not a lot of payoff. The differences from year-to-year aren’t always big enough to be interesting. Plus, I don’t know about you other singers, but the idea of listening to almost a half an hour of myself with a metaphorical magnifying glass is a terrifying prospect.* While I may post those tracks later, just for comparisons’ sake, I found that much material for a first post daunting. Instead I’ve found three tracks of Tornami a Vagheggiar. It’s a fairly ubiquitous Handel standard for coloratura, and the representative tracks are from early 2005 (my first time ever performing the piece), early 2007 (at my undergrad senior recital), and from a coaching (last week). All, I hope we’ll agree, very different places in my development.
I’ll be listening and pointing out changes in technique, changes in the voice itself (possibly one and the same considering how inseparable the two seem sometimes), and the differences in the approach to coloratura. I’ll also be pointing out differences in interpretation. I invite you to listen as well, and point out what you hear in the comments. I’d appreciate if you’d keep it kind, but this being the internet, I’ll be sure to keep on my thickest skin. If you’re brave enough, I’d also love for other singers to try out similar experiments and post links in the comments!
Last note before we begin: I find the prospect of laying my vocal progress bare like this absolutely terrifying, and I didn’t think when I first went to write this post that it would be. But it is. I will attempt not to waste your time apologizing or prevaricating, but I beg your indulgence for when my self-consciousness inevitably gets the best of me.
Sophomore year of undergrad, first year of vocal study as a major. 20 years of age.
My confession: at the time of this recording I had absolutely no idea what I was singing. When I made this recording I had never taken an Italian class, I’d gone to Italy and done well with the phrases in my guidebook, but that didn’t really prepare me for archaic Italian. You can tell. It’s all over the dragging tempo and the complete lack of character. We’ve also got American r’s and l’s and aspirated t’s for your listening pleasure! As we’ll see in later tracks–and indeed later in this series–once learned badly, it is extremely difficult to drop bad habits.
A bit of background about that timbre–I used to be a “mezzo”. When I first took voice lessons in high school, I sang Cherubino and Siébel. In non-major lessons my freshman year, I sang Frauenliebe und leben and Brahms. In this clip, you can hear why. The lack of support, and that weird covering led to a surprisingly dark timbre. As I’ve gotten older and gotten a better technique, the sound has gotten much brighter. I never understood how anyone could think me a mezzo until I unearthed old recordings. Obviously at the time of this recording, my teacher was giving me soprano rep, but I hadn’t yet gotten the breath support I would need to ditch that artificially dark tone.
As for my last bit of ragging on this poor, defenseless college sophomore, we have as counterpoint to the faux-mezzo timbre the habit of straightening nearly every note in or above the passaggio. I think this is something that many young voices struggle with, and my habit of doing this was very pronounced and would remain so for years. I still sometimes catch myself doing it at my church job when I’m singing with others. I simply didn’t realize that, ideally, I should have vibrato on most every note. It’s what I like to call my “micromanaged” sound. Tamping down on my larynx like that obviously doesn’t allow for free movement of the vocal mechanism, but listen to how clean that coloratura is! Indeed, listen to how clean nearly all the sound is. In a way, I feel like this kind of vocal production is an apology in advance–I refuse to allow for even the possibility of your hearing something that I don’t mean to have happen, so I will tighten and micromanage and make sure every sound comes out perfectly clean and even… Although it is unsustainable in the long run, and leads to unloveliness, at least you will hear everything exactly as I want you to hear it.
But despite this being a very young singer with a very young sound and very young singer mistakes scattered all over the place, I find a lot to admire in this girl. For example, as this girl happens to have been me, I seem to recall her sitting in a practice room trying to work out all the ornaments in this piece that she didn’t happen to crib from the Natalie Dessay recording that had come out around that time. I did my research and what I borrowed I changed so that I could feel the ornamentation was my own. You’ll hear the ornamentation change over the years, but much remains the same–mostly because I felt it was “mine”.
Senior year of undergrad, third year of vocal study as a major. 22 years of age.
Aha! Now that A section tempo is more like it! It’s at this time that I finally start loving a real galloping allegro–especially in my Baroque and Classical arias. However, we won’t talk about the dirge-like tempo of the B section. Still, at least it allows for contrast, and we’re finally on the right track! The improvements in the sound are also absolutely tremendous. All the sustained notes vibrate–sometimes late, sometimes inconsistently, but they vibrate. The sound is opening up, and there’s support there where there was none before. All this conspires to create better breath control and a new brightness. Now this sounds like a soprano. There are still bad habits–tension, covering–at this age, inconsistency seems to be the name of the game. I began to know what I should do, but how to do it, and how to make it habit were and remain two completely different things.
Speaking of inconsistent, the diction is also mightily improved. Some of the t’s are aspirated, but at least now I’m making a good faith effort to make them dental! You can hear some of the doubled consonants. We’re headed in the right direction!
There have been some changes to the ornamentation–most notably I finally ditched that cadenza. In the recording from 2005 I was audibly uncomfortable singing it. Who knows, maybe I loved it at the time, but it had no shape. Here the labored cadenza is ditched for a roulade up to a (strained) high Eb, a trill, and an easy dismount. That is the sound of a singer finally learning to Keep It Simple, Stupid.
The word of the day for this recording is inconsistency–but what improvement!
Done with MM degree, young professional. 26 years of age.
Explanations and disclaimers: This recording is from a coaching, not a performance. I made the executive decision to edit it as little as possible. I normalized the sound so that it would be audible, edited out a short mishap and the ensuing discussion about it, and edited out the intro and postlude. Otherwise, this recording is totally naked, for me and the lovely coach at the piano who was hacking through it with me. The recording was also made in a carpeted living room. I understand that I should likely wait till I have a recording of equivalent quality to post, and seeing as how Tornami will be making its appearance on my audition recordings this year, you’ll likely have one added to the end of this post eventually, but I kind of like posting this warts-and-all recording. I hadn’t sung this in a good long while, and it’s rusty. If I wanted to shock you with how much I’ve changed, I should probably wait. But part of this post is about how we carry over old bad habits in old rep. Also, this blog isn’t going to be much use if I only post glossy, edited tracks with perfect reverb.
The first thing I notice is musical. This is a singer that no longer loses time like she used to. The ornamentation is, for the most part, perfectly in tempo and has shape and dynamic. Notes are sung at the beginning of the beat and there is more consistent forward motion. Suddenly, things have shape and intention. (Also likely a product of knowing what every single word means and having coached it dramatically.) Some interesting things (that I addressed later in that coaching) which I lost when I put the piece away for a while–a wrong rhythm that is correct in the 2007 recording crept back in, and the slight tempo variation in the B section is indecisive. But this is (here’s the word) a much more consistent offering than either of the versions that came before.
Listening to this, I can hear the ghosts of all sorts of bad habits in technique. Once I have my new audition recordings, I’ll be sure to put up a post with a completely new piece learned this year up against a track from 2004 and we can really see how the new technique stacks up against the old. As for this, we have to take some of it with a grain of salt. For myself, I hear some covering creeping in and a bit of a swallowed sound that I flattered myself to think I recently ditched for good. It’s very likely that is a crime of the acoustic and the old rep, but it still makes me uneasy. However, I also hear a sound that is much more even and consistent, and a voice that is much more relaxed. The high Eb is easy, and so is the sustained Bb. The sound is even from top to bottom, and while there’s a bit of “swallow” in the passaggio, for the most part we’ve lost the tension and “micromanagement” that is such a hallmark of the recording from 2005.
Honestly, though, I find it very difficult to analyze such a new recording. In 2005 and 2007 I was a different singer. Speaking in an unbiased way about the singer I am right now is a very different prospect, so I will leave it to you, dear listener! What is it you hear? And those of you who can take the plunge–how do you hear yourself?
Next up in this series: English diction–the journey from freshman to young professional. (With audio samples, god help me.) Sometime in the future: 2004-2010 – a technical retrospective. Much more fun than it sounds. For you.
*With apologies to Ms. Beth Stewart who was told she’d be hearing Baby Doe. Sorry, pretty lady!
So, I had an entirely new experience this week. Thanks to the General Director of Chesapeake Chamber Opera (the lovely and inimitable Beth Stewart), I got the opportunity to be on television!
I have been a stage creature all my life, and let me tell you, tv is an entirely different medium. But I’m getting ahead of myself as usual. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?
Fox45, the local Baltimore Fox News affiliate, was planning on shooting a cover story about local opera in Baltimore after the fall of Baltimore Opera last year. They involved Chesapeake Chamber Opera and Opera Vivente, both regional companies in Baltimore proper. I’m lucky enough to be associated with CCO (I sang Adina and Blonde for them last season and am contracted to sing Zerlina for them next April) and take the opportunity to sing their praises whenever I get the chance. I have watched them grow this company from a vague idea into a fully-functioning opera company, and it has both inspired me and completely boggled my little soprano mind. It’s probably because I so love this company that Ms. Stewart knew I’d be a good choice of singer to help represent them during the shoot for this story.
So, Ms. Stewart gave me a call almost two weeks ago and asked if I’d be free the following Wednesday to sing for a news story. I would be joining baritone Doug Peters, and the extraodinary tenor William Davenport. Doug and Billy are local to Baltimore, but I’m in Philadelphia. Despite the two-hour commute, I figured it’d be worth the drive and the day off work A) to support CCO, which I love and B) to learn a new skill.
So this past Wednesday I gathered up a few dresses, grabbed all my makeup, fixed my hair, and drove down to Baltimore to sing for Fox45 and talk about Chesapeake Chamber Opera.
The clip is currently their top cover story and can be found here:
When that clip gets up on youtube I’ll be sure to embed it on the media page! For those of you who don’t know me well, I’m the one in the deep pink dress–I’m the only female singer in the clip, so if you hear a soprano, it’s me!
This was my first time ever on TV, and I was hugely excited and nervous about the proposition. Anyone who knows me can tell you that am a great extemporaneous speaker, but, well, I’m not great at self-editing. Also, while I am confident about my abilities as a singer, everyone has off days, and once a thing is committed to film, there it shall stay for all eternity (at least until someone deletes or burns it). The prospect of being committed to film permanently, oh, and it being viewed by tens of thousands of local viewers, was a bit daunting.
This is one of those cases where soprano stupidity came in handy. If I’m too stupid to know that it’s hard, well, it may as well be easy!
I did some research online in the days before the shoot, and I discovered that most of my auditionwear currently in rotation wouldn’t make the cut. I like rocking the patterns in an audition (yes, I know I just made half the singers reading this gasp) but patterns will overwhelm you on film. So will white and red, while black will make your body a black hole of nothing. I have some beautiful solid blue dresses, but they were all a little formal. Finally, Ms. Stewart texted me the night before asking for a “young, hip vibe.” Then it clicked. That fushia outfit I’m wearing in the clip above is my favorite date-night outfit. It’s scandalously short for auditions, because if I’m on stage and the panel is sitting below me they’re getting a bit more of a show than they need. But on television, that isn’t a problem! So Problem #1 was solved.
Problem #2 was harder. I’ve been doing stage makeup since I was 13. I did it semi-professionally as a teenager and into my early 20′s. But I had absolutely no clue how to do makeup for a camera. As ever, Uncle Google was my friend–that guy knows everything! He led me to the fantastic blog, beauty broadcast. This blog is by newswoman Emily Eddington who anchors a morning news show. I spotted her tutorial up on youtube about how she applies her makeup for her show and it was a huge help! I made some modifications because I knew we would be shooting on location with natural light, and what she does for her routine would probably be overwhelming, but her tutorial was a great place to start! Basically, for television you want street makeup style, with a lot of concentration on contouring the face so that your bone structure will show up on camera. Because we were going for the young, hip style, I opted for natural colors, and I think it came out pretty well! The church we shot in was about 100*F that day, so a lot of it melted off, but I think I look pretty good.
Problem #3 is easier said than done. I remember from tutorials on headshot photoshoots to hydrate the night before and get a full night’s rest–also good advice for the day before any audition. Hydration was easy. My primary employer is awesome and I left work early the day before. I went home and chillaxed in front of my computer. (Yes, I did just say “chillaxed.” Yes, I was only being slightly ironic. What?) I filled my trusty Peabody water bottle at 7pm and made sure to finish it by 10. I went to bed at 10:30–anyone reading this who knows me personally just fell over from shock. However, one thing you can’t really help the day before your first time on television is being a little nervous… I woke up three times with a start thinking I was going to be late, and then had an epic stress dream. Thanks to all that hydration, though, you couldn’t tell. I looked fresh as a daisy. By some miracle my voice was, too!
Obviously, I’m concentrating here on the visual aspects of being on TV. Any singer who is about to do something like this is well-advised to stick to their usual audition/performance routines for their voice. I was so lucky–after being plagued by allergies all summer, I woke up with a pristine voice. All it took to make the sounds you’re hearing in the clip were some light scales at the end of my car ride and a run-through with the accompanist (the fabulous John Wilson) before the shoot.
The shoot itself was easy. The reporter and cameraman (whose names I cannot find on the station website for the life of me!) were wonderful. Because I was the coloratura and we shot at noon–pretty early for the bigger voices to feel sprightly–I sang first. I modified my usual stage business to be “smaller” for the camera, but otherwise just tried to be myself. I ran through the Doll Song so they’d have some shiny high notes if they wanted. But they asked to shoot some of it like a rehearsal, so conductor Simeone Tartaglione gave me some pointers on “Batti, batti” while they filmed–basically I got a free coaching! After I sang, Doug sang the heck out of il Barbiere and Billy absolutely killed Che gelida manina and Lêve-toi Soleil. They’re both being featured in CCO’s upcoming season–you can find their link in my sidebar–if you’re down the Baltimore way, you should go see anything they’re in.
Afterward, it was time for the interview portion–the most nervewracking part for me!
They filmed General Director Beth Stewart first, and I made sure to sit close enough to her to listen to what she said. We hadn’t coached any specific talking points beforehand, so I wanted to get a handle on what she was saying so A) I wouldn’t say anything redundant but B) to make sure what I was saying was in line with how she was representing CCO. I was so happy to go next–I always like doing things as soon as possible if I’m nervous about them.
I realized while talking that I have no idea how to speak on camera. Even as I spoke I realized that half of what I was saying was unuseable. I would say something seemingly profound but completely non-specific, or I would take three minutes to express something that could be expressed in 30 seconds (a problem I have in day-to-day life, as well). I also suddenly was speaking in a voice lower than my usual speaking voice. Listen to me on that clip when I’m talking–I sound like a mezzo! I think I was trying to do “radio voice,” but doing that meant I lost most of the normal dynamic interest in my voice. I’m so much more interesting than that!
Just like blogging or maintaining a website, knowing how to give a good interview and represent yourself on camera are skills that we all have to learn in today’s opera world. I’m really excited that I just had my first crash course! If you have any questions about what it was like, feel free to comment! I’d love to answer any questions you’ve got!
Till next time, faithful readers!
Upcoming: the battle of the Willow Songs! And later: new audition recordings! Keep an eye and ear out for more pretty noise!
So the people have spoken! Actually being able to see and read content on a website wins over a beautiful, red saturated, unreadable train station.
Fine. You win!
New today is our static front page, various minor typo fixes, the beginnings of a blogroll, and some new content–mostly words. Also we now have a calendar page with future engagements lined up for your viewing and attending enjoyment. (For some reason the hyperlinks aren’t working correctly, but my genius webmaster is out-of-town for the day, so I’ll have to wait for that to get fixed.)
As ever, take a look around and feel free to comment or email me with suggestions! Crowd-sourcing the evolution of this website has been hugely successful so far–thank you all so much for your suggestions!
While looking through the seemingly endless amount of available WordPress themes, I stumbled upon this one — Red Train 2.6.1 by Vladimir Simovic (aka Perun) — and immediately knew I’d found the perfect theme for this website.
The opera lifestyle is a nomadic one, and, as the titular soprano of this webpage, I can be the first to attest that even at the lowest levels of this industry, one isn’t often standing still. I find myself in cars, planes, trains, automobiles, and buses more often than I find myself at home in my apartment.
The website is still undergoing various changes. We’re planning on adding a calendar widget so you can see upcoming events at a glance. I’m also hoping to import posts from my old blog, Singing Lessons from Smoofie, and resurrect it here. The front page will remain our news outlet, giving updates on new concert, opera, and recital appearances as they come up. The most exciting feature I’m hoping to have is a comparative media page–I finally have enough tracks of all my singing that I can put up multiple tracks of the same aria from different years. I figure that it might be interesting to both the layperson and the veteran to be able to hear what happens to a voice as it matures and as technique changes.
Comments, questions, or (most importantly) suggestions? Feel free to tell me what you’d like to see in the comments!
My brilliant webmaster suggested that I switch to using WordPress. As you can tell, things are already starting to look a little different. Keep an eye out for further changes and more frequent updates with new media!