AUGUST, LA COUNTY: The Struggles of an Artist, Part Two
I remember the first time I consciously encountered someone with an ulterior motive as an artist. I mean, of course, my first voice and piano teachers were partially motivated by money. But that's not a negative ulterior motive, that's a fair exchange of energy. No, the incident I want to write about was the first time that I experienced someone abusing the situation we were in- at least that's what I think it was- for their own anger/ revenge/ ulterior motive. It wasn't the first time a *guy* took advantage of the situation, or tried. That would happen not much later, and then repeatedly. It was the first time I had an experience so outlandish and- out and out just not right- that taught me a bit about entertainment, art, and competition.
So, I'm not one to say competition is bad. I think it's very positive. It makes us become SO much better. I had a constant unspoken competition in high school with a few friends and I personally feel that although we parted as frenemies, we all were better for it- better students, better musicians, etc.
But in this instance, I learned a lot about how people don't always behave according to standards of integrity.
So, I was in high school, and I was, maybe not THE star singer of the school, because there were a lot of incredible singers in my school, but definitely one of the better singers and DEFINITELY one of the most driven to succeed.
In addition to studying voice with the choir director and singing in every musical and choral opportunity possible and even creating my own independent study in which I was directing a girls' choir, I also studied private piano lessons and voice lessons with professors from a nearby university. I was singing in contests unrelated to school and winning awards at them. I remember winning a Schubert competition, and I recall how surprised people were to hear a BIG voice come out of what was then a LITTLE body. I won, and/or placed, in several competitions connected to school, and was being offered a few scholarships already to a few different colleges (including NYU.)
I am not telling you all of this so much to prove anything other than the fact that there was proof I was a good singer. I mean, yes, I was young, 17, and had this huge, unwieldy voice that needed training. I was kind, but also full of false humility, because I didn't know how to be great and not egotistical at the same time but I knew that it was very unattractive to have a big ego, so I was learning to tame myself and still pursue my dreams.
I later learned to squash myself and not pursue my dreams, and then learned humility and THEN learned to pursue mastery and dreams and art without any of these sorts of qualifications of ego, envy, good or bad. But this is part of the path of an artist as well as part of the path of becoming an adult.
So, there was an upcoming competition, and each school could submit only a certain number of singers. I was one of the singers to be sent. There were other singers with beautiful voices that were not selected. Was I better than those singers? Maybe. It's so long ago I can't say. Was I a favorite? Definitely. The choir director and I had a special relationship. He believed in my talent, and basically, I was never an asshole to him (unlike most high school kids.) Did I deserve to be at the competition? I believe so, and at any rate, whether or not I deserved it, or no matter what was fair or unfair, I was going.
I have always been one of a big range, of vocal power, of rich tone. So, while my range was that of a soprano, (and my personality! ha! Total diva, admittedly!) I was often singing a lot of mezzo pieces because, well, I could! These days I think of myself really as a spinto, almost a dramatic soprano, because as my voice has matured it really sits in that sort of dramatic Puccini placement for sopranos, and casting wise, if casting matters too terribly much in opera, those are my roles. As a Broadway gal I'm a legit to mix-belt girl, think Kristen Chenowith, but I have a low range as well. I get compared a lot to Linda Ronstadt when I sing pop, country or big ol' ballads. So that gives you an idea of the sound of my voice if you've never heard me, not to mention my facial structure and appearance and general casting. ;)
I went to this competition and I believe I sang one of two songs:
"Le Violette," with which I won a lot of competitions- straight outta ye olde Book of Italian art Songs, a favorite among new students,
or
"Voi Che Sapete," the Mozart aria for a mezzo, a pants role- one in which "she" plays a he.
I just started singing the latter, and I still love the way it bursts from the blossom of my lips, the way the tone rounds in the top of my mouth. I still study and work with a teacher endlessly on tone, production, and Italian; it has been a long time since I've had the wonderings of the character ("excuse me ladies, how do I get laid, and would you be someone who would be able to physically assist me with that right NOW?") but I will always love that song and enter into the fizzy, light headed joy of the aria every time I sing it.
The judge for my particular portion of the contest was a professor at one of the local universities. In fact, she was a good friend of *my* voice teacher, although she did not know that and I did not tell her so. The first round of the competition involved singing alone just for the individual judge, although my accompanist was with me, one of my best friends.
After I sang for this lady, she said,
"I can't believe you are here in this competition."
Ego: Smacked.
"Oh?" I asked.
"You just don't have a voice," she said.
"What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Note: since then, I have actually had about half a dozen people tell me I have a terrible voice or I can't sing. I don't listen and I don't care. People don't need to love me or my voice! I don't need the whole world to love me and its an impossibility anyway. I sing for the love of it, and for the people who want to hear it. But...
I was a high school kid.
An imperfect one? yes.
But talented? yes!
"You don't have a good voice, you will never make it into any college as a singer, you will never do anything with this voice, and I don't know why you are here."
"Oh, okay," I said. I gathered up my things. "Thank you," I said as I was leaving. I'm from Minnesota, after all. We have good manners.
My friend and I were in silence as we walked back to the cafeteria to meet up with all the other musicians. We were both stunned. She went on to accompany someone else, but I don't remember what I did.
Later, when I didn't place, my choir director sought me out.
"What happened?" he asked.
I told him what the woman had told to me and he was very upset. He confided in me that one of her personal, private voice students was one of the girls from my school who hadn't made the cut and she was probably doing this to take revenge on him. He even filed a complaint.
I told my private voice teacher this, and Teri couldn't believe her ears. She just could not believe it. She couldn't believe that (this woman) had said such things, but
I had proof. I had had a friend in the room.
A few years later, fresh out of rehab, I started getting back into voice lessons while living with my parents. Guess who was my voice teacher?
The judge who told me I would go nowhere.
In a strange twist of fate, I was placed with her as my teacher, and she actually freed my voice a lot during a time when I was filled with shame.
Did she remember what had happened between us?
I have no idea. We never talked about it.
Did I just sing really badly that day? I don't think so. When she was my teacher, she was encouraging me to call up all the music schools I had turned down because of my eating disorder and rehabs. She was trying to get me to move to New York and make a real go of it.
So what did I learn?
Even the best of us are not always to be trusted.
People don't always operate from the best of intentions, let alone YOUR best interests.
People are worth forgiving.
And I am really good at making friends with the enemy.
So, I'm not one to say competition is bad. I think it's very positive. It makes us become SO much better. I had a constant unspoken competition in high school with a few friends and I personally feel that although we parted as frenemies, we all were better for it- better students, better musicians, etc.
But in this instance, I learned a lot about how people don't always behave according to standards of integrity.
So, I was in high school, and I was, maybe not THE star singer of the school, because there were a lot of incredible singers in my school, but definitely one of the better singers and DEFINITELY one of the most driven to succeed.
In addition to studying voice with the choir director and singing in every musical and choral opportunity possible and even creating my own independent study in which I was directing a girls' choir, I also studied private piano lessons and voice lessons with professors from a nearby university. I was singing in contests unrelated to school and winning awards at them. I remember winning a Schubert competition, and I recall how surprised people were to hear a BIG voice come out of what was then a LITTLE body. I won, and/or placed, in several competitions connected to school, and was being offered a few scholarships already to a few different colleges (including NYU.)
I am not telling you all of this so much to prove anything other than the fact that there was proof I was a good singer. I mean, yes, I was young, 17, and had this huge, unwieldy voice that needed training. I was kind, but also full of false humility, because I didn't know how to be great and not egotistical at the same time but I knew that it was very unattractive to have a big ego, so I was learning to tame myself and still pursue my dreams.
I later learned to squash myself and not pursue my dreams, and then learned humility and THEN learned to pursue mastery and dreams and art without any of these sorts of qualifications of ego, envy, good or bad. But this is part of the path of an artist as well as part of the path of becoming an adult.
So, there was an upcoming competition, and each school could submit only a certain number of singers. I was one of the singers to be sent. There were other singers with beautiful voices that were not selected. Was I better than those singers? Maybe. It's so long ago I can't say. Was I a favorite? Definitely. The choir director and I had a special relationship. He believed in my talent, and basically, I was never an asshole to him (unlike most high school kids.) Did I deserve to be at the competition? I believe so, and at any rate, whether or not I deserved it, or no matter what was fair or unfair, I was going.
I have always been one of a big range, of vocal power, of rich tone. So, while my range was that of a soprano, (and my personality! ha! Total diva, admittedly!) I was often singing a lot of mezzo pieces because, well, I could! These days I think of myself really as a spinto, almost a dramatic soprano, because as my voice has matured it really sits in that sort of dramatic Puccini placement for sopranos, and casting wise, if casting matters too terribly much in opera, those are my roles. As a Broadway gal I'm a legit to mix-belt girl, think Kristen Chenowith, but I have a low range as well. I get compared a lot to Linda Ronstadt when I sing pop, country or big ol' ballads. So that gives you an idea of the sound of my voice if you've never heard me, not to mention my facial structure and appearance and general casting. ;)
I went to this competition and I believe I sang one of two songs:
"Le Violette," with which I won a lot of competitions- straight outta ye olde Book of Italian art Songs, a favorite among new students,
or
"Voi Che Sapete," the Mozart aria for a mezzo, a pants role- one in which "she" plays a he.
I just started singing the latter, and I still love the way it bursts from the blossom of my lips, the way the tone rounds in the top of my mouth. I still study and work with a teacher endlessly on tone, production, and Italian; it has been a long time since I've had the wonderings of the character ("excuse me ladies, how do I get laid, and would you be someone who would be able to physically assist me with that right NOW?") but I will always love that song and enter into the fizzy, light headed joy of the aria every time I sing it.
The judge for my particular portion of the contest was a professor at one of the local universities. In fact, she was a good friend of *my* voice teacher, although she did not know that and I did not tell her so. The first round of the competition involved singing alone just for the individual judge, although my accompanist was with me, one of my best friends.
After I sang for this lady, she said,
"I can't believe you are here in this competition."
Ego: Smacked.
"Oh?" I asked.
"You just don't have a voice," she said.
"What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Note: since then, I have actually had about half a dozen people tell me I have a terrible voice or I can't sing. I don't listen and I don't care. People don't need to love me or my voice! I don't need the whole world to love me and its an impossibility anyway. I sing for the love of it, and for the people who want to hear it. But...
I was a high school kid.
An imperfect one? yes.
But talented? yes!
"You don't have a good voice, you will never make it into any college as a singer, you will never do anything with this voice, and I don't know why you are here."
"Oh, okay," I said. I gathered up my things. "Thank you," I said as I was leaving. I'm from Minnesota, after all. We have good manners.
My friend and I were in silence as we walked back to the cafeteria to meet up with all the other musicians. We were both stunned. She went on to accompany someone else, but I don't remember what I did.
Later, when I didn't place, my choir director sought me out.
"What happened?" he asked.
I told him what the woman had told to me and he was very upset. He confided in me that one of her personal, private voice students was one of the girls from my school who hadn't made the cut and she was probably doing this to take revenge on him. He even filed a complaint.
I told my private voice teacher this, and Teri couldn't believe her ears. She just could not believe it. She couldn't believe that (this woman) had said such things, but
I had proof. I had had a friend in the room.
A few years later, fresh out of rehab, I started getting back into voice lessons while living with my parents. Guess who was my voice teacher?
The judge who told me I would go nowhere.
In a strange twist of fate, I was placed with her as my teacher, and she actually freed my voice a lot during a time when I was filled with shame.
Did she remember what had happened between us?
I have no idea. We never talked about it.
Did I just sing really badly that day? I don't think so. When she was my teacher, she was encouraging me to call up all the music schools I had turned down because of my eating disorder and rehabs. She was trying to get me to move to New York and make a real go of it.
So what did I learn?
Even the best of us are not always to be trusted.
People don't always operate from the best of intentions, let alone YOUR best interests.
People are worth forgiving.
And I am really good at making friends with the enemy.
