Transcending the imperfect

In an earlier blog this semester, I quoted Claudia Friedlander's recent book Complete Vocal Fitness. Even though much of that book deals with anatomy, physiology, and biomechanics, there are also some important words related to performance that I think pertain particularly well to our upcoming end-of-semester juries and class finals:

"[...] the voice never lies—everything you are thinking and feeling will come through in your singing. If you fully immerse yourself in the experiences and emotions of the character you are embodying, you will communicate them incisively to your listeners; likewise, if you become consumed with a need to micromanage your technique or wrestle with stage fright, those activities will color your performance, because the voice is physiologically wired to respond to and communicate all your thoughts and feelings in real time." (p.78)

It may be a little daunting to see it spelled out this way but it makes sense that if our mental and emotional energies are focused on something other than the character of our songs, that focus will be reflected in our performances. Of course, technique is a crucial part of the creative process. But, ideally, that is not what we want to be thinking about when we are performing. It's ironic, then, that singing without thinking about technique is something we have to practice.

Friedlander goes on to explain why our focus should not be on technique when we perform:

"The more vulnerable, passionate, and sincere your intentions, the more impactful your singing will be. A singer with a flawed technique can deliver a compelling performance because dramatic and musical commitment sometimes transcends imperfect coordination. Yet a singer who has little to say can deliver an impeccable performance but leave listeners cold, because virtuosity for its own sake cannot compare with raw passion." (p.78)

Once again (for the people in the back), dramatic and musical commitment transcends imperfect coordination. This is not an excuse to neglect your technical development—we still have to do all we can in that area. But we have to remember that audiences are moved more by the communication of ideas than by flawless technique.

I sometimes ask students not to perform in a way that forces me to focus on their voices. By simply telling a story through the unique medium of your voice, you are offering audiences something that no one else can.

Thanks for a great semester. Keep working and let's finish strong!

Now go practice.

A resume of failures

There was a recent thread on one of the voice teacher Facebook groups I follow that caught my attention. One of the moderators posted about how most successful performers often only achieve success after a series of failures and rejections. But we usually aren't aware of this because we only know them because of their successes. He then asked if any of us would be willing to share some of the failures we've encountered over the years.

He offered his own experiences first by describing disastrous auditions, being rejected by agents, not getting re-hired by companies he had previously performed for, and on and on. He is currently a voice teacher at a leading U.S. conservatory after having an international singing career, but he still has a long litany of failures that occurred before, during, and after his successes.

Another person in the group posted about how difficult it was to stay afloat financially when she was trying to start her career, considering how much money she was spending on voice lessons, coachings, audition wear, headshots, etc. She said she went on so many auditions "[...] in which the only positive was that my backpack was lighter due to emptying my wallet." She later went on to an 18-year career singing at the Metropolitan Opera and is now a voice professor at a major university in the Midwest.

Lots of others were jumping in with their own lists of failures, so I posted as well.

Ever since I was a freshman in high school, I knew that I wanted to have a career that involved singing and teaching music. When I was in college, I realized that my dream was to teach voice at the university level. After lots of years of twists and turns, I finally felt ready to start applying for college teaching positions.

I had to go back and count but, as it turns out, I applied for more than 100 university positions over the years. I was named a finalist for ten of those jobs. This means I made it past the resume rounds, made it past the phone interviews, and was invited to campus for interviews, recitals, and teaching demonstrations. These 10 interviews resulted in exactly ZERO job offers. In a few cases they hired an internal candidate who was already teaching at the school. In at least one case, they canceled the search due to the funding being pulled. In two other cases, they didn’t hire any of the finalists and reopened the searches.

The set of circumstances that eventually led to the job I have now was circuitous, to say the least, but that's a story for another blog. :) Suffice it to say, it took a long time, but I come to work everyday knowing that I'm doing something I've wanted to do since I was 14 years old.

It’s funny that whenever any of us achieve any degree of success there is an unspoken rule that we are supposed to hide all of our previous failures. I’ve never understood that. I think it's really important that we talk about our failures without shame or fear since they are an inevitable part of this business. 

Of course, each of my own rejections was difficult to take at the time (ranging from upsetting to devastating). But I know that each of those experiences led me to the work I am doing now in the place where I am doing it.

And I'm pretty happy with that!

How has your singing been? How has failure impacted your journey?

Now go practice.