The Desire for Hermitage, The Gift of the Magi, divorce, and the role of an artist

“Ah! To be all alone in a little cell

with nobody near me;

beloved that pilgrimage before the last pilgrimage to death.

Singing the passing hours to cloudy Heaven;

Feeding upon dry bread and water from the cold spring. 

That will be an end to evil when I am alone

in a lovely little corner among tombs

far from the houses of the great.

Ah! To be all alone in a little cell, to be alone, all alone:

Alone I came into the world

alone I shall go from it.”

-Anonymous Irish Poetry

The first time I heard Samuel Barber’s Hermit Songs was when I was a sophomore in college. Though always an old soul, I must admit that at 20 years old, the significance of the closing song of the cycle was completely lost on me. If felt morbid, lonely, and bleak. A few weeks ago though, the song popped into my head while hiking along the Carmel coastline and its significance for me became beautifully clear.

I am writing this post after just concluding a month long gig in one of my favorite artistic places, Hidden Valley, an artistic retreat in Carmel Valley, CA where I was singing the role of Della in David Conte’s beautiful chamber opera The Gift of the Magi. After a wonderful opening weekend, I enjoyed a blissful week off with little to do. While many of my friends returned to the Bay Area to be productive and attend to other responsibilities between performance weekends, I welcomed the opportunity to stay in my little room at Hidden Valley, read, write, work on music for my next gig, and just “be”. It was the most amazing feeling and one of the first times in my professional life that I found myself with the freedom to focus solely on myself and my art.

My accommodations at Hidden Valley were a far cry from the scenario described in “A desire for hermitage”. My “cell”, while small and fairly austere, was equipped with a cozy space heater and its own bathroom. Meals were prepared for us by a private chef, and I made a respectably regular habit of making green juices from the vegetables that grew in the organic garden on the premises. (I brought my juicer with me in my car. Did I feel pretty good about myself? Yes, in fact, I did!) I was also not far from the houses of the great. Leon Panetta owns a house right down the street from where I was living. (He has his own street too, called Panetta Street, naturally.) So no, my hermitage was not entirely monastic, but there was something about being surrounded by nature and away from the trappings of my regular day-to-day life that allowed me space to be alone with my thoughts.

One evening after our performance, an attractive middle aged women wearing an impressive fur coat and jewelry that immediately caught my notice came up to me with tears in her eyes. She told me how moved she was by the opera, specifically by the love between my character and her husband Jim, played by my great friend Ryan. “I cried…a lot,” she said. “I mean you could just feel the love between the two of you! You were so in love and so eager to just be together. You were such newlyweds! And the tree! I mean the way you were so excited by that tree, the way it meant so much to you! I didn’t know why, but when I saw how happy you were to get that tree, I just started crying.”

“I know, right?” I said. “I mean it’s such a crappy looking tree! But Della loves it so much because Jim thought of her and wanted to make her happy. It really is such a sweet moment, isn’t it?”

“I used to have this amazing flocked Christmas tree and all of these beautiful Tiffany ornaments. It was just spectacular,” she told me. “I’ve been going through a time of a lot of loss and change recently. I’m getting rid of so many really beautiful things that meant so much to me at one point in my life. It’s been very hard. The process has been really long and tiring. And there I was, listening to you two sing to each other, and watching you two together, and you were just so in love and so happy with so little. It just made me cry so much. Not because I was sad really, but because it gave me hope. It felt so good to feel things, you know?”

“I understand,” I told her, recognizing the coded language. “I’m going through a divorce too.” She and her fur coat hugged me tightly.

She had cried not because she was sad that her relationship was over, but because seeing the love between Jim and Della gave her hope that she could still be moved by love, and romance, and excitement for the future! It felt so good to be reminded that she was still capable of feeling that way. I knew exactly how she felt and I was almost taken aback to hear her articulate exactly what I had been experiencing. Going into this production, I was worried that as my marriage was ending, I would have difficulty accessing that unbridled joy and love that Della feels for Jim. I was worried that through my pain, it would be difficult for me to feel the excitement and the hope that Jim and Della share for their future together. I was filled with such relief to discover that it was easy and joyful for me to access those feelings and memories. Though my marriage had ended, it was neither difficult nor painful for me to draw upon the love and joy that I had felt during the relationship. It was easy for me to love love, and easy for me to feel hopeful and excited to experience it again with someone new. It felt so good to feel those emotions and to share them with the audience.

As I’ve settled into my professional life as a performer, I’ve often grappled to come to terms with exactly what it is that I offer the world. What is my contribution to humanity or to the people in my life? Was choosing to be an opera singer a selfish decision? Does what I do even matter?  I’m not solving the world’s problems or keeping people safe, healthy, or fed. I spend my life pursuing an art form that feeds my soul. I spend most of my time on the road, or alone practicing, or off in my mind somewhere. A performer’s life is solitary and I’ve always been the kind of person who doesn’t mind being alone. Does that mean that my career is really only benefiting me?

I’ve finally allowed myself to accept that the role of an artist is extremely vital. Artists synthesize human emotion! We guide our audience through their own experience of the emotions, memories, and ideas that they may not be able to access or process on their own. We experience life in all its beauty, pain, loneliness, and joy, and recreate those experiences, (painful or difficult as they may be), to share with others.

Our lifestyle is a solitary one. We spend holidays, weddings, anniversaries, birthdays and sometimes even final goodbyes far away from the people we love. Relationships are complicated by the constant travel and irregularity of this career and lifestyle. However, as a product of our being alone, we are able to remind our audiences that they are not alone. That is not an insignificant contribution.

There are some things that can only be said with art and music. There are some realizations that can only be found in solitude. If I can touch at least one person’s soul with my work and make them feel like they are understood, that will be an end to evil, when I am alone.

Finding Peace

“Ego says, ‘Once everything falls into place, I will find peace’. Spirit says: ‘Find peace and everything will fall into place’.”

I was in a really crappy mood when I saw this quote shared from a yoga page on Facebook, so of course my first ornery reaction was “yeah right”.

But as I read it again, I begrudgingly realized the relevance of that first sentence. I don’t think I’m alone in saying that I feel like I spend a lot of time waiting for a “perfect” situation before I give myself permission to be content and at peace in the moment, just as I am.

“I’m feeling aimless…I’ll feel better when rehearsals for my next gig start.”

“I don’t have enough work for the next year…I’ll allow myself to feel content when I have more gigs lined up.”

“I wasn’t perfect in my practice/coaching/rehearsal etc…I’ll allow myself to feel confident and proud of my abilities when I’m absolutely unimpeachable.”

“I’ll allow myself to be happy when I make X amount of money, I’ll allow myself feel successful when I have accomplished X goal, and I’ll start treating my body well when I have more time and more money.”

In psychoanalytic terms, ego is “the part of the mind that experiences and reacts to the outside world and thus mediates between the primitive drives of the id and the demands of the social and physical environment”. Ego is our awareness of our individual identity in the context of the world around us.

As motivated, self-aware, smart people, there is a misconception that if we give ourselves permission to be at peace with ourselves just as we are, we’ll become complacent and stop striving for greatness.

“If I know that I can operate at a higher level, how can I be at peace with what I’m putting out today?”

“If I pat myself on the back for every little thing I do, I’ll never become my best self.”

“I want to make more money! If I just decide to be happy with what I have right now, I’ll never be motivated to accomplish more!”

“I’ll never be content until I accomplish my goal, because I’m a motivated person and contentment breeds complacency.”

Does contentment breed complacency? Can’t we enjoy the moment, be proud of our current accomplishments, and still continue to accomplish and strive? When I think of the times when I’ve been the most motivated, the most productive, and found the most success in my life and my career, they have coincided with the times when I’ve been the happiest, most confident, and most content.

Yet still, it’s difficult to let go of our ego and our self-awareness. Ego, like fear, is something that protects us. How many of us consider ourselves to be our “own worst critic”? Singers say this all time and it serves a few purposes. First of all, we hope that if we are super public about how critical we are of ourselves, others will see our “self-awareness” and hold back with their own criticism of us. They’ll just be like “Oh yeah, she definitely has this covered. I don’t even have to tell her what I think because she’s already thought it for me and is beating herself up over it way more than I ever would.”. As an added protection, by preparing ourselves for the absolute worst things that anyone could say about us, we hope to lessen the blow when someone does criticize us. We already know what’s wrong with us, so we’ll never be surprised.

It doesn’t really work like that though. That self-critical energy is draining and uncomfortable for people around us. If we tell others that we aren’t good enough, why should they believe otherwise? Worse still, when we are our own worst critics, we’re actually brainwashing ourselves into believing we truly aren’t good enough.

In putting up self-imposed barriers to our own contentment, we are setting conditions for our own self-love and self-acceptance. We are telling ourselves that we don’t deserve success, love, or happiness until we achieve certain goals and until “everything falls into place”. So what’s the point? When we achieve those goals, will we be happy then? Will we even know how to be happy, proud, and content, or will we continue to postpone our happiness? Will that carrot always be on that stick, just out of reach? What about all the time we will have wasted, hazing ourselves for not being good enough. Did it really motivate us, or could we have accomplished the same goals in less time if we hadn’t stood in our own way?

I’m excited to see how things fall into place when I try to find peace with where I am in the moment.

On thick skins, opinions, and kindness

I love Jimmy Kimmel’s series Celebrities Read Mean Tweets! I appreciate that the celebrities in question can laugh at their critics, but it’s also a great reminder to all of us that celebrities are human beings with emotions, and just like the rest of us they can be hurt by the mean things people say. I also really love the singer created series Bad Singer Reviews in which singers (whose voices and work I truly admire) read their especially cutting reviews. There are critics at every level of success, and none of us are immune. Apparently as artists, the moment we step onstage or into the public eye, we give unofficial consent to complete strangers to judge us and to state their opinions of us as fact.

Here’s the thing about opinions: everyone has one! Tonight many of us will watch the Grammy Awards and we will all have different opinions about what the artists wore and whether the winners truly deserved their awards. There will be so many opinions! I may think a dress is horrible, but obviously someone really loved it and we are both entitled to our opinions! I might not care for the music of some of the winners, but obviously many other people do! Opinions are not fact, they are opinions.

In a way we as artists accept that everyone will be a critic. We often ask for people to give us their opinions! We invite critics to performances and we ask for feedback after auditions and competitions. We must be prepared for the reality that not everyone will have something nice to say about us. We have to accept that we might not be to everyone’s liking. The criticism might be constructive and give us something to improve upon, or it might be a criticism of something that is out of our control and much more personal- Our look, our voice, us! This is when a thick skin comes in handy! We as artists must decide which opinions to take to heart- which comments to allow to penetrate and which to deflect. As young singers, many of us have received conflicting advice on this subject. We were taught that we should have a strong sense of ourselves but should also listen to our “betters”, those who have been in the business longer, may be in a hiring position, and surely know more than we do. We should soak up everything everyone tells us and learn from it. But how can we do both? When is it time to shed the “young singer sponge mentality” and trust ourselves and our own value?

This is when having a good team becomes invaluable! Every single person has an opinion and each artist needs to have a team of people whose opinions they trust! These people should not only have our best interest at heart, but should share our artistic vision for ourselves and should have an ear/eye that we trust. If these people agree with any feedback that we receive (hurtful as it may be), then we know that it’s something that we need to work on. If they don’t agree, then the feedback should be disregarded.

I questioned whether or not to share the following anecdote because it was an upsetting and quite frankly embarrassing experience, but I know that we will all encounter hurtful people in our lives and careers, so here goes:

I received particularly hurtful feedback from a competition judge a while ago that really made me think about kindness in our field. After a performance that I was actually quite proud of, a judge gave me his particularly hurtful opinion of my voice (stated as fact, not as opinion). This was not an assessment of my technique or delivery and did not include any constructive advice on what I could do to improve, it was just a very definitive assessment of my “instrument”. In a nutshell, he was really not a fan of my voice. He did tell me that my attractiveness and my theatricality somewhat hid my lack of innate vocal gift, so I should try to find repertoire that was so theatrical that the audience would forget that my voice fundamentally lacked color, beauty, or quality of any kind. Outside of that sort of niche repertoire, he didn’t see me having much career success, and certainly not in roles that required a beautiful voice. Oh, but he liked my dress.

Coming off of a week of personal and professional successes, I wasn’t quite sure how to react. I was sure that neither I nor my trusted team agreed with his assessment, but how to respond? I was sure that “well for your information lots of other people seem to like it and tell me it’s beautiful” was not an appropriate or effective response, so I defaulted to autopilot and smiled and thanked him for taking the time to speak with me. He asked me if I had any questions, and I said that I did not. “I’m sure you’ll think of some later” he said. “Yes, I’m sure I will” I answered, my smile still painted painfully on my face. And sure enough, a day or so later I was full of questions, the biggest of which was “Why not try a little kindness”?

This would have been a kinder way to phrase his critique while still expressing his opinion:

While the quality of your voice isn’t to MY personal liking, I thought you were a skilled performer with a strong fashion sense, and I think that your choice of aria showed off your strengths to your advantage. This kind of repertoire suits you and you should try to find more of it.

Now was that so hard?

When I think of the mark that I want to leave on the world and the people I interact with, it’s important to me that I strive to act with kindness. I want to surround myself with kind, uplifting people who elevate the energy in the world and in the lives of the people they interact with! I am so thankful for my wonderful teachers, advisers, friends, colleagues, and family who I know feel the same way. Kindness is not avoiding or sugarcoating the truth, but having empathy for the feelings of those around you. To my generation: WE are the teachers, artists, administrators, judges, and creators of the future. Think of the difference we can make in our field if we strive to operate with empathy and kindness!

My wish for all singers at the end of the audition season

May we all realize that in the grand scheme of things, none of this matters. We are not curing AIDS or Cancer or Ebola or even the common cold. We are singing opera. Yes, it matters to each of us and makes us happy and fulfilled. Yes, we bring joy to those we sing for. Yes, carrying on the tradition of a beautiful art form is important. But think about it, the fate of opera does not hang in the balance depending on how well or how poorly your audition, or my audition, or that other guy’s audition goes. Yes, we all want to enter the New Year with jobs for the ’15-’16 season, but those jobs will come. Maybe not from anything that happens in an official audition within the hallowed halls of NOLA or the Opera Center, but they will come. They may come from auditions that don’t take place between October and December (gasp). They may come from auditions that aren’t part of a national audition tour where the people behind the table have been subsisting for weeks, or even months, on coffee, muffins, martinis, and the sheer will to survive until they can get home to their families and not have to get on another plane, train, or bus for at least a week or so. They may come from drinks with friends, or from people who have hired us in the past, or from someone who saw us perform years ago and just happened to think of us. They will come. We are all going to be ok.

And let’s not kid ourselves here, the amount of money that is on the line for most of these jobs we are auditioning for is not going to make or break anything for us in terms of financial health or survival. Yes, it’s always nicer when for the few months, or few weeks of our contract, we can pay the bills doing the thing we have degrees to do; but worst case scenario, we get a temporary job doing something else so we can put food on the table during our off months. If we’re really being honest here, out hourly rate will probably be higher doing something (anything) else, and we may even be able to squirrel some money away for the times when we are in a production, to keep us going during the weeks of rehearsal before we get paid. We’re all going to be ok.

May we realize that nothing that happens in an audition is going to ruin any of us forever, no matter what anyone says. I’m fairly sure the whole “you’ll never work in this town again” thing is reserved for people who behave like monsters, not for people who sing a bad audition (or even a less than stellar performance) once in a blue moon. Sure, it feels bad when we don’t do our best. Of course we all want whatever position we are auditioning for. But really, we could all go in and sing our most amazing auditions and only 6 or 7 people out of hundreds in any given audition are going to come out with jobs. That’s not said to be discouraging or defeatist, it’s just the way the numbers work, and personally I find it to be a little bit comforting. You might be exactly what they are looking for, and you might not be. It’s not personal, it just is.

So absolute worst case scenario: what if we sing our most horrendous audition ever? Will puppies and kittens be slaughtered right then and there? Will our families disown us for besmirching the good family name with a sub-par audition? Will our friends shun us and throw tomatoes at us as we pass? Probably not (and if so, our issues are much much bigger and it’s time to get new friends)! People have screwed up in public in front of audiences of thousands, and the world has not ended for them. Whatever happens in any one of our auditions, life will go on.  Maybe a company will put us on the dreaded “do not hear again list”. Well there are lots of other companies out there to work for.  Maybe the panel will laugh at us over drinks later in the evening because we curled up in a ball on the floor and threw a temper tantrum that would rival that of a three year old coming down off a sugar high. Well at least we can be happy in the knowledge that we brought some kind of perverse joy to someone on an otherwise banal day. I can promise with reasonable certainty that we will not be beheaded, we will not have to sacrifice our first born child, and we will not have to turn over all of our money and property to the opera company in front of which we have embarrassed ourselves. If a bruised ego and a lost opportunity is the worst things that can happen, it’s really not that bad! We’re all going to be ok.

May we all be grateful for what we do have: friends! Audition season in NY is a great time to connect with friends who we don’t get to see very often. We’re all together in this less than ideal situation, but at least we’re together! When I think about what I love most about this career, at the top of the list is the chance to make music with great people and make lasting friendships. This year, I have plans to see friends I have worked with recently, friends who have moved to other cities, and friends from my past who I am so excited to reconnect with after years apart! Friends, you have my number, so if you have free time and want to grab tea, give me a call! Everyone, let’s keep the conversation positive, focus on what we do have, and make it a goal bring up at least 3 topics that aren’t related to opera or auditioning. We’re all going to be ok!!! 

xoxox

Sara

My Opera Singer’s Travel Guide

The first time I got on a plane for an extended singing trip was 7 years ago. I was going to Italy for a 3 week long program and I went out to buy a new suitcase for the occasion. I viewed this purchase as an investment in my career, since I would obviously need to have a gigantic red suitcase for all of the career related travel that would surely follow. Flash forward to me at the airport paying an additional $75 in international baggage fees and then later dragging this gargantuan down the cobbled streets of Florence with Italian men pointing and laughing the whole way. Then I had to drag it up the many narrow steps of my apartment because adorable Florentine student flats, while featuring high ceilings and beautiful tile floors, do not come equipped with elevators. Flash forward again to me not wearing half of the clothes I packed and having to pay another $75 to get the suitcase and its contents home.

Those 3 weeks were amazing! I went out every night, ate and drank the most delicious things full of tomatoes, garlic, and alcohol, and woke up and sang without a care in the world or a thought to reflux or dehydration. I spent money like I had it, shopped in the open air markets almost every day, and bought more Pashmina shawls than any person could or would ever need.

Ah to be 20 years old!

Now, 7 years later, here’s what travel for singing actually looks like. I wake up at a time when no human should be awake, and board a plane at a time when no person should be operating a vehicle of any kind. I fly to the first layover destination which is most likely a few states out of the way from the final destination, grab some food and fill up the water bottle, then get on the next flight and listen to the whole safely procedure spiel all over again. My huge red suitcase does not accompany me on any of these voyages. One, I don’t have time to wait for it at baggage claim. Two, it is gigantic and sure to incur an overweight baggage fee, even if I only fill it up half way. If I’m only going to fill it up half way, what is the point of bringing such a huge bag? I hate the thought of paying to check a bag in the first place! At the risk of sounding very old and crotchety, flying is expensive enough and they just keep taking and taking! What’s next, we’ll have to pay for drinks? No free water? No! The airline can make me pay for the privilege of sitting dehydrated in a cramped seat, next to some guy pounding bud lights, but they will not get my $25+! If I’m traveling for a gig, I want to bring home every last cent of my paycheck that I possibly can, and if I’m traveling for auditions, then I’ve already spent way too much money on audition fees and airfare before I even arrive at the airport. Every last dollar counts.

When you check a bag you run the risk of it getting lost, especially if you have layovers. If you are checking a bag, make sure your essentials are in your carry-on.

When I fly, everything I need, even if I am traveling to a month-long gig, goes in my small carry-on suitcase or my L.L. Bean backpack. This backpack belonged to my husband during high school. It is complete with his embroidered initials, but has since been co-opted for my own use and he has given up all hope of ever getting it back. (A friend once asked me if it was an allusion to the episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon buys those amazing jeans from Brooklyn Without Limits, but no, it’s just a preppy high school hangover.) Built to accommodate multiple huge text books back in the old days when overworked high school students couldn’t access those things via ebooks on their tablets, it has a magical way of expanding to fit everything I need for the flight.  

 

Here are some of the key contents of my backpack:

-Scores and/or audition binder

-Laptop, laptop charger, and phone charger

-A big zip lock bag full of everything that would ordinarily be in my purse. For the purpose of flying, my backpack is my “personal item”. My empty purse will go into my suitcase.

-Yarn and crochet hooks. I love to crochet and I really love to crochet on airplanes.

-My humidiflyer! Here’s a picture of me wearing it. Cute huh? Here’s the thing about the humidiflyer: I’m not absolutely convinced that it makes the biggest difference for me in terms of humidifying, but it is without a doubt very useful! The principle of the humidiflyer is that it traps the moisture from your breath in the mask so you are able to breathe it back in again. It also warms the air you are breathing so even if your seatmate is blasting the AC directly onto you, you won’t have to breathe in that horrible cold, dry air, you’ll just have to sit there shivering while it hits you in the face. And as an added bonus, the humidiflyer is equipped with a filter of sorts, which may prevent you from breathing in all the gross germs in the plane. In my ideal world, it would have some kind of external water vessel attachment so you could breathe in actual steam and not just your own breath, but that’s not how the humidiflyer works. It all sounds pretty gross, but it makes sense, sort of. In my opinion, there is really no substitute for drinking water constantly throughout the flight. The humidiflyer will work in conjunction with constant water consumption, but not without it. I tried that once for fun and landed with a massive dehydration headache. But here is the best reason to use the humidiflyer: when you’re wearing it, NO ONE will talk to you! You can be reviewing your very cool opera score and the person next to you will not dare to ask you what you’re reading or what instrument you play. You would think that someone would ask you why you are wearing a scary face mask on the plane, but they will not! I think it’s because they will assume that you are wearing it due to some serious medical condition and they won’t want to be rude. Even if they do try to ask you questions, you will be so inaudible with the humidiflyer clamped firmly over your nose and mouth, that they will soon grow tired of trying to understand you and will eventually give up any hope of engaging you in conversation. I think that is worth its weight in gold! You will also want to try to get an isle seat so you won’t have to engage anyone in any way when you get up every half hour to use the restroom because you’ve been drinking so much water.

-Lip balm, hand sanitizer, coconut oil, and all other liquid things, all packed in the infernal small plastic baggy. Let me wax poetic about coconut oil for a moment. Coconut oil is amazing stuff! I love how it smells, I love how it feels, and I love how it tastes. I use it for everything…removing my eye makeup, moisturizing my face and body, putting in my coffee when I run out of half and half. It’s said to have anti-fungal and anti-microbial properties and it is a very light and easily absorbed oil so it’s not super greasy and won’t make you break out when you rub it all over your face. (I actually do this every single night instead of using a night cream and I think it’s the best thing in the world.) On planes, coconut oil is invaluable. I buy it Organic from Trader Joe’s and then spoon it into a small portable jar. A little bit of coconut oil goes a long way. I use it as a hand cream, and also (and this is probably best done in private) put it in my nose so my nasal membranes don’t dry out during the flight. Your nostrils will feel moisturized and you’ll get to enjoy the beachy scent of coconut instead of the smell of stale plane air, baby diapers, and farting plane riders. (I kid you not, I was on a flight a while ago where the guy in front of me was farting continuously thorough out the flight with absolutely no reservation.) Coconut oil also makes a good lip balm if your lips aren’t super dried out, but I find that on planes I usually need something with more staying power, likely something that contains beeswax. Note: coconut oil is solid at temperatures below 76 degrees Fahrenheit, but on the chance that it gets above that temperature in the security line, keep it in a container that is smaller than the regulated liquid size limit so they let you bring it on the plane. If you want to get creative, you can add a few drops of essential oils to the coconut oil when it’s in its liquid state. Make sure the essential oils are high enough quality. Healthfood store quality should be good enough, but don’t go to a mall kiosk or anything like that. I love the smell of lavender and coconut together and eucalyptus and grapefruit are some other favorites.

-gum

-Big water bottle (empty of course until you get through security).

-Good headphones! I love listening to audiobooks when I travel. It feels like such a treat to have someone else read to me and it keeps my hands free to crochet. Last audition season I listened to Gone Girl on the way to NYC and Gillian Flynn’s other book, Sharp Objects on the way back. Both of them were amazing and so riveting that I didn’t want to get off the plane. I just wanted to keep listening to find out what would happen next! According to Variety, Sharp Objects is going to be made into a TV mini-series and I am so excited! Read/listen to the book before that happens! Regardless of what you listen to, headphones are a great way to keep out the unwanted sounds of babies crying and annoying people having loud conversations from opposite ends of the plane. Headphones also give any chatty seat partners the clear message that you do not want to talk to them. Add some dark sunglasses and you’re untouchable!

 

Here are some of the key contents of my carry-on suitcase:

-Clothes and shoes obviously! No one really wants to hear the laundry list (get it...laundry list) of all of my clothes, so I’ll keep it general. I usually like to pack things that can be switched around and accessorized to create multiple outfits. For audition travel obviously the audition outfit and accessories are the most important clothing items, but you will also want comfortable, versatile, and professional looking outfits for your downtime. Especially in NYC during the winter months, you never know who you’ll run into, so keep everything clean, flattering, and walkable and you can’t go wrong. For gigs, packing is more of an art, since you will have to fit enough clothing for a month or more into your small carry-on. I have learned that for me this means lots of versatile cotton or jersey dresses, (with different colored tights in the colder months), lots of different statement jewelry pieces, and a few comfortable but versatile shoe options. I also bring a lot of yoga pants and work out gear so I can exercise, but also so I have options if the production is a particularly physical one. There are the stand and sing in your dress types of productions, and then there are the crawl around on the floor, climb up ladders, fall to the ground and lay there in your yoga pants kinds of productions. Keep in mind that it’s still a professional setting so wear your nice yoga pants. I only bring things that can be machine washed (except for any performance gowns and dresses), and everything I bring has to be able to be applied to at least two outfits.

-My empty purse

-Usually more yarn

 

When traveling for singing related trips, keep in mind that managing your stress level is possibly the most important thing you can do when it comes to keeping healthy and performing at your best. I think as a rule, it’s best not to travel on the same day as your audition or rehearsal. You don’t want to have to worry about delays or being tired when you arrive. After a good night’s sleep and a chance to adjust, you will undoubtedly perform better than you would if you bundled all the stress of traveling on top of the stress of auditioning or performing. If flying really stresses you out, give yourself an extra buffer day to recover, (though I realize this isn’t always an option if you are paying for a hotel during audition season). There has only been one occasion when I have flown in on the same day as the first day of rehearsal, and it was stressful! Everything turned out fine, but I arrived to rehearsal with minutes to spare, feeling and looking like a zombie. Honestly, life is stressful enough and we all deserve to be as relaxed as we can possibly be when making a first impression. Think of the plane ride as a chance to pamper yourself and enjoy quiet activities that you don’t usually have the time for when you are running from rehearsal, to lesson, to audition.

Safe and happy travels to you all!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What having and losing a day-job in sales taught me about my opera career

Most young artists will understand the struggle that is the quest for the ideal “day-job”. I actually hate the concept and the term. “Day-job”. It’s a job for the day, when “normal” “working” people are working, the connotation being that is is “real” or “legitimate”. By default, that must mean that the other job you have is just some dream you are chasing, and not a “real job”. From hence forth, the day job shall be referred to as the “supplemental job”. Your art is your career and the other job just supplements your income, perhaps making it a little easier to afford this delightful season of patronage to airlines and opera companies. The truth is that in today’s world, especially in the pricey Bay Area, having multiple jobs is the rule, not the exception, among young people. It’s really just a matter of finding the right jobs.

Flexibility is key: First and foremost, the supplemental job must not get in the way of your career. You must have flexibility to take time off for auditions and rehearsals, and even be able to leave for months at a time when you do get hired for career related gigs in other locations. Many people just quit the supplemental job when they get a gig, but due to the temporary nature of a freelance career, it’s always great when your SJ allows you to take time off and return after said freelance gig is concluded. Even better is a SJ that can be done remotely so you can do some work from the road and get double-paid.

It doesn’t take up too much mind-space or day-space: It’s not your career so you shouldn’t be spending your whole day there. You have other career related work to do! The supplemental job should be easy. Also, when you leave for the day, it should be over.

My story: While browsing the Craigslist job listings, (as you do), I spotted a couple of SJ prospects that seemed like they had the potential to fit the aforementioned criteria. I sent in my resume (Opera resume, I might add. I don’t have time to make a completely separate resume!) and was pretty shocked to get a response within 24 hours from one of the potential employers. The post I had responded to was for a Social Media Marketing position for a small, high-end, specialty health-food product manufacturer with headquarters very close to my house. I had written a very nice cover-letter explaining that as a freelance opera singer, I acted as my own social media marketer every single day (translation: spends way too much time on Facebook, tweets occasionally, has posted all of 2 photos to Instagram, pins crochet patterns and DIY projects on Pinterest, and infrequently writes blog posts). I proposed that I could easily apply what I had learned from promoting my own personal brand to promoting theirs. Puzzlingly, when I showed up for the interview, I learned that the president of the company really had no intention of hiring a social media marketing specialist and really only wanted to hire an additional wholesale sales representative. This was not the job I wanted and for some reason, the more I expressed that I really only wanted to apply for the social media job, the more the president of the company became convinced that I would be perfect for the job in sales. I have never argued against myself so unsuccessfully. He told me this was the perfect job for someone who wanted to cultivate a life-long career in the Organic Food industry. I told him that that was indeed not what my goals were, that I loved Organic food but I already had a career in another area and really just wanted a part time position. After explaining that I had no sales experience whatsoever and already had a career that could render me unable to work from an office for months at a time, I got the job. I would be covering the Midwest region, and since the grocery buyers who I would be selling to generally worked early hours (and were 2 hour ahead of us to begin with), I would begin the workday at 7:30am and end around noon. Since everything would be phone sales, I was promised that I could easily work remotely in the future when I needed to travel. He told me he had a good feeling about me and really liked my energy, proving that people will always believe what they want to believe, regardless of how hard you may try to prove to them otherwise. He did ask me if I had really been in Don Giovanni. Why yes I have Sir, it says so right here on my resume. 

Here’s a crash course on how grocery stores generally work: Most grocery stores do the majority of their ordering though a distributor (a large company that pre-approves manufacturers and their products and acts as a middleman to get those products to the buyer in one big shipment). Sometimes though, stores will order directly from small manufacturers who do their own distribution. The company I was working for was one of these manufacturers. These small manufacturers have their own sales people who sell directly to individual stores and then ship directly to each store from their own warehouse. It’s a lot of extra work for everyone involved. The grocery store buyers could just look at a big catalog of pre-approved products, pick the ones they want without having to deal with sales people, and have everything come in one big truck via the distributor, or they could take up lots of their valuable time talking to individual vendors (like myself) who are trying to pitch our more expensive products that will be more work for them to order and take more time for them to keep track of and unpack. I was covering a region where the product I was selling was not established, so I was doing a lot of targeted cold-calling and trying to build up a client base in the region, basically from scratch. Because our product was not local to the area, would cost a lot to ship, and wasn’t carried by any of the major distributors, I was at a definite disadvantage. The thing is, I didn’t find this too daunting. It really wasn’t unlike the challenges I face constantly as a young freelance opera singer. As I said to friends perhaps too loudly over coffee, “I mean, how different can it be? I’ve been selling myself every day for the past few years!”

The job and I recently parted ways due to “artistic differences” after a few months together. There were many things that I enjoyed about this job, particularly my co-workers, who were wonderful people, as well as the structure that comes from having a set place to go every morning and a regular paycheck. Through the crystal clear lens of retrospect, I am also able to see that this experience taught me a lot about my opera career. Here are my findings:

1. There are many reasons for rejection and most of them have nothing to do with you or your product. When I first started the job, one of the first things I was told was “don’t expect everyone you call to buy something from you. You get used to the rejection.” Please, I am a professional rejection-getter! And I don’t mean that as in I take rejection with professionalism, I mean if I were to give you my job description as an opera singer, it would read something like Opera singer: gets rejected, sings opera, avoids acidic foods. The thing about being rejected as an artist, is that even if we intellectually know that the rejection didn’t really have anything to do with us, it still hurts because our product is us and at the end of the day, it’s us being rejected. It’s too easy to make assumptions and interpret the situation as being reflective of who we are or something we did or didn’t do. Seeing rejection from an impersonal, non-singing side of things has given me a lot of insight into some very reasonable explanations for rejection.

Wholesale representative situation: The store is already carrying similar products and there is no need for them to add something that is basically the same as something they already carry. They may be open to adding new products if they ever restructure, OR you could get lucky and a salmonella recall could slow up your competition, giving you the opportunity to swoop in and save the day. Opera equivalent: the role has already been cast or they have decided to hire singers that they have used in the past. There is really no need for them to add someone new when they can just go with someone who they have had success with before, BUT if you cultivate a nice rapport and maintain the relationship, they could keep you in mind for a time when their usual singers aren’t available or they are specifically looking to use someone new.

Wholesale representative situation: Your product is too expensive. Opera Equivalent: Since we as singers are selling a service and not a tangible good, we are in a position to perhaps use a little more of our own discretion about what we will and will not accept in terms of payment. We are in a position to offer our services at a discount if it is a project that we feel absolutely compelled to do. However, as singers and entrepreneurs, we do still have overhead/costs of doing business, and our fees need to reflect that. At the end of the day, this is our job. I think that artists have to be strong and not settle for compensation that we feel is unfair. It ruins it for everyone when companies know that they can always find someone to accept the position for less money, and it ultimately drives artist fees lower for everyone. We also need to keep our standards high by only participating in projects that we feel are worth-while for us as artist as well as for the community. I think singers have to be unified and play the long game in this situation. If we stick together and adhere to high standards in terms of what we will accept and what we will lend our talents to, it will result in fair pay and positive artistic experiences for all artists, ourselves included. If we continue to lower our standards, we will all suffer the consequences over time. Something that I found to be true and illuminating while working in sales, was that by saying that the product was too expensive, the buyers were not implying that it was not a good product and was not worth the price, they were simply saying that with their sales history and what they knew to be true about their customers, they knew that it was too expensive for it to be profitable to them. It’s just business, not a personal attack on the quality or value of the product.

Wholesale representative situation: The buyer had a negative experience with the company in the past and does not want to do business with them again. (This was always a frustrating situation for me, because obviously, being new to to company, I was suffering for someone else’s mistakes.) Opera Equivalent: I can’t remember who said this, but it is something that has stuck with me from one of the many masterclasses I observed while at school. The key to success in this field is this: “Just don’t be a dick, ok?” You could take it a step further and really strive to be a caring and considerate person, but if you do nothing else, just try not to be a horrible, unpleasant, annoying, mean person, because then no one will want to work with you. Makes sense to me!

2. You can play the short game or the long game. A week after my first day, the president of the company called me in for a meeting and said “you know, the point of this job is to sell [product]. You have yet to make a sale. What have you been doing this whole week?” Where were all those good feelings about my “energy” now? The truth was, I felt really great about the progress I had made! I was talking to grocery buyers, I was figuring out what their buying patterns were, during what seasons they were busy, and during what seasons they had trouble moving products. I was getting to know their personalities, creating a database of information and a log of our interactions, and cultivating a rapport with them. Stores have cycles. They have a set amount of space on the shelf for each section until they either decide to replace a current product, or restructure the section to make more room. Yes, perhaps a better sales person than myself could have strong armed their way into an initial purchase, but for me, I felt it would be better to play the long game. Being incredibly pushy could result in an initial sale, but we all know that feeling of being pushed into buying something that we didn’t really want! It’s a horrible feeling and rarely results in future business! Success in the food industry and the opera industry both rely on building a network of people who will want to work with you again and refer you to others long after the initial order or first contract. It’s one thing to make a sale or get a gig, and it is another to create a long-term customer or colleague. So I played the long game. I asked them questions about what their seasons were like, and what products they were having success with. I respected their time when they said that they were too busy to talk, or that today was not a good day for them. When they said that they wouldn’t be considering new products for a while, I asked about their timeline and inquired as to whether I could follow up with them in a week/2 weeks/month. I was surprised that they seemed grateful for this and when I did follow up, were appreciative and candid about the likelihood of them being able to make an order in the foreseeable future. This approach yielded a few new customers during the months I was working there, and I’m very confident that given the time, it would have yielded more.

3. Just because someone doesn’t respond to your email, doesn’t mean they aren’t interested. Following up is helpful to everyone involved and there is a polite and respectful way to follow up without being pushy. As a currently self-managed singer, I send out a lot of emails. When those emails aren’t returned, or take a while to be returned, my default assumption is usually that the recipient of the email is just not interested in me or what I have to offer. Of course this may be true in some situations, but if sales has taught me nothing else, it has taught me that people are extremely busy and usually their lack of response has nothing to do with you at all. I can’t tell you how many times I followed up with a grocery buyer who expressed interest in the product, and still, after weeks of calling, could not find a time to look at the online wholesale catalog I had emailed over. They are busy people! Sometimes they never found the time, but sometimes my call was so perfectly timed that they said “I’ve been meaning to get to that but I’ve been so busy! I have a second now, so let me take a look. Ok, I’ll take a case of this, this, and that”. Most of the time, regardless of the outcome of the call, they were happy to get a follow up from me. Most buyers apologized for not getting back to me, and many of them thanked me for being so on top of the situation. Am I saying that we as singers should be calling General Managers on a weekly basis or bombarding people with emails? Absolutely not! I just mean that if someone doesn’t respond to your email and you think that you have something to offer them that could be beneficial to them as well as to you, there is no harm in sending a follow-up email after a reasonable amount of time has passed. Use common sense and discretion in all situations and ALWAYS be polite and respectful of their time and their decisions.

4. The relationships between manufacturer and grocery store and singer and opera company are symbiotic.  Grocery stores sell items to people and manufactures make those items. The grocery store needs something to sell, so as a manufacturer you are helping the store do it’s job by selling your items to that store. The store benefits the manufacturer by buying their items. It’s all very simple and obvious! The relationship between singers and opera companies is the same, but we as singers often have a hard time seeing it that way. We often feel like the opera company is doing us a service by hiring us, but forget that we are also doing them a service by working for them and fulfilling their need for talented, wonderful, professional, kind, and delightful performers! You could be exactly what that company needs in that place and time. As always, be smart and evaluate whether you truly feel that you would be a good fit for each role and company. Be respectful and considerate in all interactions and keep in mind that you have just as much to offer to them as they to you. It could be the start of a wonderful symbiotic relationship!

I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts and experiences with supplemental jobs. Feel free to share in the comments section of this blog, or on Facebook.

Performers and Mental Health

I’ve been a horrible blogger lately, (lately as in for months). My WordPress dashboard is full of unfinished, half thought through drafts of posts that I can’t seem to publish. Partially this is because it’s been an extremely busy summer (3 role debuts and a move), but a large part of it is because many of these posts are about topics that are complicated and I never feel like my writing is complete or good enough to do them justice.

I’ve been trying to write a post on singers and mental health for a while now, and the tragic and untimely death of Robin Williams has made me realize that as incomplete as my thoughts may be, this is a topic that needs to be discussed openly, especially within the artistic community. This will perhaps be a topic that I write about in installments, because there is just so much to be said.

Obviously, I did not know Robin Williams. I do not know the demons he battled, I do not know the details of his internal struggles. We can never really know what any person is feeling or going through and there are so many facets of mental health that it cannot be simplified into a simple blog post. There is a difference between clinical depression and suicidal or harmful thoughts or actions, and the situational depression and anxiety that many other people experience, which is triggered by events in daily life. In no way do I ever want to make light of, or presume to know anything about anyone’s personal struggles. This post is not about Robin Williams at all, but his death has inspired me to add my voice to a discussion that needs to be had.

So here are my questions: How do we as performers take care of our mental health? Why is it so difficult for our society to talk about mental health and mental health care? Why, in today’s modern world, is seeking mental health care still stigmatized? We believe in taking preventative measures for our physical health! We take vitamins, we go for check-ups, we read Prevention Magazine, but do we do the same for our emotional and mental well-being? Why is mental health care viewed as something one seeks out when they have a “problem”, instead of a tool used to maintain mental health and well-being in all of our daily lives?

I believe strongly in preventative mental health care, which is why I see my therapist every week that I am not on the road. (Yes, I have very good insurance which makes my sessions affordable, but there are many resources available for therapy provided on a sliding scale…Here’s one in Berkeley that I just found by doing a simple Google search.) I talk about therapy with people quite often, partially because I want to normalize it, and partially because I think talking to a good therapist is one of the best feelings in the world and I want more people to experience it! People sometimes look at me a little strangely when I tell them I see a therapist (AND WEEKLY!), as if they are wondering “is there something I don’t know about this girl? Is there something dark hiding in there?, or they look concerned like “Is everything ok?”. Yes, everything is fine, and normal, and healthy! I can’t think of a single person who wouldn’t benefit from seeing a therapist, because we all have basic human emotions and we should all talk about them! I see my therapist weekly because I am a person, an artistic person, an empathetic person, an observant person, and I have feelings and thoughts and sometimes anxieties, fears, and worries just like all people! And while I have many supportive people in my life who love me and care about me, I love them too much to make them listen to ALL of these thoughts ALL the time.

I have no shame about seeing a therapist, but many people who experience depression feel ashamed about their feelings and do not seek help. My hope in talking about my experience is two fold: I hope that therapy and preventative/maintenance based mental health care becomes more prevalent in our society so that more people are aware of their feelings and feel comfortable talking about them. I also hope that just as a regular check-up from a general practitioner is a healthy way to catch serious physical health problems before they develop further, regular contact with mental health care providers this will cut down on the staggering number of people who suffer silently from depression and anxiety without anyone knowing.

I started seeing my therapist right after my first post-grad school audition season. I had nothing on the books and I was feeling low, to say the least. I found a therapist that was covered under my insurance who specialized in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and left a message on her machine: “Hi, I’m an opera singer…I just got my masters and I have no jobs…I think I could use a therapist.” She called me back the next day, and in the most soothing voice I have ever heard (no harsh glottal attacks) said, “Of course you could use a therapist! Let’s set up an appointment. Is next week ok? Will you be alright until then?”

Being an opera singer (or performer of any kind) makes for a difficult life. Yes, we get to perform and do what we love, and to an outsider this may look like it should make us wildly happy every single day of our lives, but here are just a few factors inherent to a life in the arts that can cause fatigue to our mental health:

-Worrying about money. Worrying that we will never make enough money to justify our career choice or worrying about the day to day responsibilities of paying bills. Money is stressful for most people and artists have to worry about it just as much as anyone else. The major difference is that we usually make less of it.

-Feeling constantly evaluated and judged. Like when our job is to stand in front of a table full of people who are writing things about us (good or bad) and deciding when we will work next.

-Comparing ourselves and our careers to those of others. Whoever said “comparison is the thief of joy” was totally on to something.

-Worrying about when our next job will come. There’s that closing night party when we’re feeling fantastic, and then comes that question “So what’s next for you?” Sometimes it’s nothing.

-Worrying that everyone hates us and that we will never work again. Yes, it looks ridiculous on paper, but don’t lie…I know every artist has thought it at least once.

-Fearing that we aren’t good enough

-Wanting to please everyone all the time and feeling like a failure because that is an impossible goal.

-Feeling lonely because we have spent weeks, months, holidays, weddings and birthdays away from people we love.

-Experiencing stage fright or audition anxiety.

-Feeling emotionally taxed because we have been constantly reliving the worst, most dramatic moments of a character’s life in rehearsal, on stage, and in the practice room every day for weeks.

When I explained the trials and tribulations of my life in the arts to my therapist that first session, she looked at me and said “That really sucks. I could see how that would stress anyone out!” And for some reason, that just felt so good to hear! Unlike my parents, or my husband, or my teacher, my therapist won’t spend time later in the day worrying about my future or my happiness. She won’t stay awake at night worrying that I won’t get a gig that I auditioned for or that I’m afraid I’m going to get a cold or that I’m stressed about my student loans. As empathetic people, sometimes we feel bad talking about our problems with people we love because we don’t want to make them worry. We don’t want to be a burden. We are so anxious to please and to make others happy that we do a disservice to ourselves by putting our emotions last. In unloading my problems and talking through my feelings with a caring but uninvolved person, I feel unburdened by them. The factors that cause stress do not go away, but the way I deal with them improves.

I want to be a resource to anyone who is curious about therapy or needs someone to talk to. As artists, our emotions are some of the most valuable tools we have at our disposal. We are fortunate to be deep, caring and compassionate individuals who can empathize with our characters, our audiences, and our colleagues. We have the power to move people, to make them laugh, to make them feel, to give them hope, and to take them away from their own problems at least for a few hours the way Robin Williams did for so many people. But we also owe that same compassion and empathy to ourselves. We need to allow ourselves to feel, to forgive ourselves for our shortcomings, and to ask for help when we need it. Like we keep our bodies healthy and cared for, we have to provide the same amount of care to our minds and our emotional health.

This video of Robin Williams singing “Largo al factotum” makes me smile! Let’s remember this amazing artist with love and compassion and send those feelings out into the world.

 

 

 

 

Another one down! San Diego Opera is folding… so now what?

Yesterday the opera world took yet another blow as San Diego Opera announced that it will be folding at the end of the 2014 season. Coming on the heels of New York City Opera’s high profile bankruptcy and the closing of many other companies throughout the country, we as professional musicians are faced with the question “What do we have to do to ensure the survival of the art form we love, and to ensure the safety of our careers and livelihoods?”.

This really is horrible, depressing news! Singers who were contracted to sing in the upcoming seasons will have to find other ways to make up for the income that those jobs would have provided, and the administration and production staff are out of work as well! Not only that, but the world has lost a great company and will never get to see the opera that that company would have given it! Not to be a complete downer, but it also makes the world of professional singing just a little smaller and a little more competitive since there will be still fewer positions to go around. It all really really sucks! But now we have to look at these company closings as a wake up call…the kind of wake up call that happens after you press snooze for a few hours and try to tell yourself that your alarm isn’t really going off at all. This has been a long time coming! The current business model for opera is just not sustainable! Opera is too dependent on gifts from donors. Those donors aren’t contributing the way they used to and in 50 years or less, will no longer be alive. Did we think that these gifts would just keep flowing forever? If we want to stay with the donor model, what are we doing, if anything, to attract a younger set of donors (google, facebook, twitter, lyft, uber)? Can companies do more with less, while still providing fair fees and wages to their artists and staff? Does opera have to be so flipping GRAND all the time? Where is all the money being spent and are we using resources efficiently? And finally, in this specific case, does San Diego Opera, as it stands, deserve a place in the cultural landscape? After reading this article, my personal feeling is no, or at least not with CEO and general and artistic director of San Diego Opera Ian Campbell in the leadership!

“If they could not continue to attract singers of the caliber of Pavarotti, Sutherland, Domingo and the many other stars of the world stage who performed here, Campbell indicated, they would just as soon shut it down. “It would be like putting water in the beer,” he said. “If you cut the artistic quality, people know.”

First of all, many of the highest caliber singing artists the stage has ever seen will never be featured on the cover of Opera News or release a best selling CD of greatest hit arias. Fame and caliber of talent are two very separate things, and hiring a singer who doesn’t have his or her own Rolex ad should under no circumstance be viewed as a cut in “artistic quality”. Second of all, what is this attitude? “Opera will either be this one specific way or it won’t be at all!” Way to throw the baby out with the bathwater! Would choosing a few productions with a smaller cast and minimal chorus really be the end of the world? Do you really have to kill the entire company because you can’t do every single opera with “a total of 268 people… in the orchestra pit (77 musicians plus the conductor), on stage (92 singers, actors and dancer) and backstage (98 stagehands, dressers, carpenters, and others)” as San Diego Opera did for it’s recent production of Un ballo in maschera? Would the people really revolt if the chorus was a quarter of that size? (I know this probably brings up issues with unions and choruses, and I don’t want to imply that cutting chorus jobs is a thing to take lightly, but surely it is better to hire fewer singers per season that to kill the entire company.) And who are these people that Campbell is courting anyway? Maybe older opera goers really cared about going to hear a big name singer and a chorus of 70 singers, but should we really be concerned about them at this point? (sorry). Companies all say that they are concerned with attracting a new, younger audience, but they don’t seem to know the first thing about how to do that! Ultimately, it seems like many of them don’t really want to change their modus operandi!

So what does the younger generation want in their entertainment? Well, as a member of that generation and as someone who just finished watching the latest season of House of Cards, I will tell you: strong characters, people who you love to love or love to hate, intrigue, heroes, villains, betrayal, romance, sex, murder, gut-busting humor (though not so much in HofC), heart wrenching tragedy, great acting and great writing! Opera has all of those things and more! It has superhuman singing and the most beautiful music ever written! There is no legitimate reason that opera cannot survive. Maybe grand opera can’t financially survive in every city in the country, but if that is so, is it really the worst thing in the world? Does opera really need to be so grand and opulent (and expensive to produce) all the time? Does grand opera even appeal to today’s younger audience? Is it that amazing to see an elephant on stage if you’re so far away from it that you can’t really tell if it’s a real elephant? Can we let opera be gritty, intimate, and exposed some of the time? If we can’t sell out huge theaters, can we instead, unapologetically perform in smaller spaces and view that change as a new opportunity to present our art in a new and exciting way? Personally, as an audience member I would so much rather see opera in smaller theater where I can appreciate the acting and nuance than sit up in the family circle and watch a far away shape dressed in a very expensive costume make large motions with his arms so I know that acting is happening. As a performer, I would rather perform for a smaller theater that is packed with people who are fully invested in the drama, than perform for a 3/4 full house that has a fancy lobby. Yes, I love a fancy costume and a big ornate theater as much as the next singer, but those things in and of themselves are not opera and they are not worth sacrificing the future of the art form for. Also, have we done any studies? What are the things that audiences really care about? I don’t know the answers because unlike every single other business out there, opera doesn’t do large scale market research to find out what the public wants to see! Do we need to give the people what they want if the market research yields something crazy that goes against our core values as artists? No, we absolutely do not! If the market research states that the majority of people want to see opera sung by pop stars, cats, and audience volunteers, then we can tell them to take a hike, but at least we should know what we’re up against! But I digress..anyway big opera, let’s everyone get back on solid financial footing and then we can talk pyrotechnics. Great singing, acting, directing, a great orchestra and world class musical interpretation can be had on a smaller budget! Also, I’m just going to say it: Opera needs snacks! Make them quiet snacks (so maybe not loud candy or nachos) and put your wine in a sippy cup, but opera needs it’s audience to be well fed and a little loosened up. If we can sit on our couches and binge watch netflix for 4 hours, surely our attention spans aren’t as short as everyone likes to say they are. Armed with a beer or 2 and some sustenance, a 3.5 hour opera would be a breeze! Oh, and seats in theaters need to be more comfortable too. There you go!

So the issue of donors…such a fraught subject! Do we need to depend on them as much as we do? I do not have answers, only lots of questions…so that’s a start. Yes, the arts have historically been supported by donors (and royalty). Sure, fine, history, whatever…that model is starting to fail us in a big way, so do we maybe need to rethink that model for the future? Of course we do! Are we afraid that without donors, we will have to let “the invisible hand of the free market” decide if opera is valid and worthy of survival? Are we afraid that we will find that the answer is no, it is not? Are we afraid that opera can’t stand on its own financially. Well In it’s current state with the high cost of production at some of the large companies, it probably can’t, so we need to come up with some creative ways to fix that? Do we think that opera is worthy of survival? Yes, we do! So let’s make it happen, people! The good news is that we are all extremely creative human beings, so we have that going for us!

We are creative people and we are resourceful people! We are business people! We may not all think of ourselves that way, but we definitely have to start! We have to be unified….like the United Potato Growers of America or The American Egg Board! Neither of those products are particularly sexy or even interesting, but their lobbyists have done a damn good job of making both eggs and potatoes into something that you want! (I bet they did a lot of market research too! “Oh people think that eggs are smelly! Well let’s fix that! Eggs are no longer boring and smelly! They will now and forever be incredible and edible!) “The incredible, edible, egg” was pure genius! Some composition major probably wrote that little jingle and is still laughing all the way to the bank! “Artistic fulfillment? What’s that?” Opera is already amazing and interesting, but we don’t have a lobbyist or a PR firm making sure we are well presented to the mainstream media, so we’re getting surpassed by potatoes! Americans have been conditioned to like so many things that are a lot less cool than opera, so with a little ingenuity, we can surely bring them over to our side! I’m really serious about a unified PR strategy though…why hasn’t this happened yet? Wanna get on that someone? AGMA? That would be a good use of money! At the very least, our PR firm would make sure that opera in commercials was well sung and that any portrayal of opera in TV and movies represented opera in an accurate and positive light.  Oh! OH! And then the united opera lawyers could sue brands that didn’t comply! Ok, I think I’m on to something!!! (Is this possible? Maybe I’m watching too much TV.)

So maybe I’m half kidding, and maybe I’m masking my frustration with humor, but we all really have to open up a dialogue about how to move forward with opera in today’s world! Most importantly, we cannot despair! Opera will be ok! We care about it too much to let it be any other way. So let’s get creative guys!

Happy Birthday Papa!

Greetings from beautiful Santa Barbara, California! I’m here with Opera Santa Barbara as a Studio Artist, covering Nannetta in Falstaff and singing in a bunch of fun events around this amazingly gorgeous city! When faced with beautiful opportunities like this, it feels wonderful to be able to acknowledge the people who fostered my love for opera and inspired me to pursue this career. In celebration of his birthday today, I would like to tell you all about the man who introduced me to opera, my grandfather (Papa)!

Papa has always talked to me like I was an intelligent, fully valid human being, even before I could talk back. He is credited for teaching me my first word (“flower”) when I was a little over a year old and I haven’t stopped talking since. He didn’t dumb down the music he played for me either. Being a child and having good taste were not mutually exclusive. Always an opera lover, he never entertained the notion that opera wouldn’t appeal to a two year old! Sure, in the car with my parents I listened to the dinosaur tape on repeat (“Omnivore, omnivore, what do you munch? I like plants and meat for lunch!” Anyone?), but at my grandparents’ house, I listened to opera and I loved it! Papa and I would listen to his favorite operas and he would read the synopsizes to me from the CD inserts. We listened to Carmen, Aïda, and Rigoletto most often. I especially remember listening to this CD of highlights from Carmen because I vividly remember the brightly colored CD jacket featuring the young and beautiful Leontyne Price. The cast on this recording is a who’s who of opera: Leontyne Price, Franco Corelli, Robert Merrill, and Mirella Freni! In reading the synopsizes, I’m sure he omitted some of the more upsetting details of the plots, but obviously not all of them because one day I asked if we could listen to some operas in which nobody died at the end. We took a little step in the direction of age appropriateness with an English language version of the Magic Flute, made especially for children, called Mozart’s Magic Fantasy: A Journey through ‘The Magic Flute’ which I was very excited to find just now on Amazon! To this day, when I hear a baritone sing Papageno’s aria “Ein Mädchen”, I still think those words in my head: “A girlfriend who would lo-o-o-ove me, is what I wi-ish I-I had….oh something something I fo-orget the wo-ords…that would make me glad, yes tha-at wou-old ma-ake me-e glad”. It’s pretty amazing that 25 years later I still remember (most of) the words to that recording! It did get a lot of air time so it’s natural that some of it would have stuck with me, but I think that my very young age played a major role as well. The love of opera was instilled in me at a time when I was gathering so much information about the world around me for the very first time. No one told me that opera was not for kids or that opera was boring, or stuffy, or hard to understand, or too loud, or that I should prefer Raffi (also great). I learned to love opera at the same time that I was learning to speak. Classical music became a language that was natural to me.

(Above: Me and Papa at my 2nd birthday party)

When I was two and a half, my middle sister was born. I was convinced that she should be named after one of the title characters in my favorite operas: Aïda if she were a girl and Rigoletto if she were a boy. For some reason, nobody took my completely valid suggestions seriously! When Hillary was born I ran up the stairs yelling “It’s little Aïda!” but was told by my parents that they had already chosen a name. When I reasonably suggested that Aïda could be her middle name, they informed me that they had already picked one of those too. So I offer my apologies, my dear Hillary Elizabeth. I tried my very best to give you THE coolest name I could think of. I’m sorry that so many people decided to stand in my way. You’ll always be Aïda Rigoletto to me!

Hillary-Aïda-Elizabeth-Rigoletto and I were masters of interpretive dance of the improvisatory variety. Give us some tutus, nightgowns, scarves, cloth napkins, tablecloths, or socks and we would make elaborate costumes and whirl around the room for hours! When we would go to our grandparents’ house, our favorite dancing music was Scheherazade by Rimsky-Korsakov, though we would settle for Swan Lake in a pinch when we were at home because we didn’t have a recording of Scheherazade there. (Now we have YouTube, so I highly recommend that everyone click on the link provided and listen to this amazing piece of music!) Our grandparents parleyed our love of dress up and crazy improvised movement into fantastic teaching moments! We practiced saying “Sha-he-ra-zad” and “Rim-ski Kor-sa-kof” and we even read some of the more child-friendly stories from Arabian Nights. I can proudly say that what I learned while dancing around my grandparents bedroom, jumping on and off of beds and couches with scarves and lace table-runners tied to my body, has come in handy in quite a few music history classes over the years.

(Above: Me and Hilly dancing in my grandparents’ bedroom and modeling our costumes. As you can see, I took all of this very seriously. This was not playing, this was a true production. Hillary deserves a medal for putting up with me. I was quite the tyrannical producer/director/choreographer/stage manager/performer. By the time Marley was born, I had calmed down a bit.)

Papa always encouraged me and Hilly to use our imaginations. On the car rides to his and our grandmother’s house, he would tell improvised stories with us chiming in all the way there.  These stories were always about vampires because that’s what Hilly and I wanted to hear about. We were way ahead of the vampire trend. These stories were about two young vampires (Vamp and Vampirina) who attended a vampire school which Papa called Vampire Vocational Night School (VVNS). (The attorneys for Vampire Academy should expect to be hearing from us very soon because we definitely came up with this idea first.) When Vamp and Vampirina graduated, we figured that this would be a great opportunity to make some cool costumes and we held our own graduation ceremony for them in our grandparent’s house at midnight (which was probably closer to 9 because we were really young and wouldn’t have known any better).

(The press was prohibited from attending the actual graduation, but luckily my costume made a triumphant return for my next birthday party. Vampires love pizza!)

Gee and Papa took us to see Broadway shows, art exhibits, and ballets. Papa read the entire Nancy Drew series to us aloud with only short naps between chapters and was always adding new books to our rotation of favorites. When we wanted to see where Eloise lived, Gee and Papa took us to High Tea at the Plaza Hotel. When I decided that I wanted to sing opera, Papa took me to see my first opera at the Met (La Boheme).

(Above: Papa, me and Hillary on the steps of the Plaza Hotel before High Tea. Again, as a child, I reveled in taking things very seriously! I also liked to take non-smiling pictures because I thought they looked dramatic.)

(Above: Another pictures where Papa is reading and Hillary and I are wearing costumes.)

(Above: Getting ready to see CATS on Broadway.)

(Above: In Italy!)

(Above: My family after coming to see me as Eurydice in Orpheus in the Underworld at The Hartt School of Music.)

So Happy Birthday Papa! Thank you for making my childhood so vivid and memorable! Thank you for reading aloud for hours, never making me order off the children’s menu, and encouraging me to try anything that sounded interesting to me! Thank you for bringing opera into my life, encouraging me to pursue my dreams, and for teaching me to approach everything with creativity!

I love you so much!

Sara

Fun with Bios

I can’t speak for everyone, but personally I think writing a bio is one of the most uncomfortable and difficult career related tasks put before young singers. The first time I was asked to submit a bio was in grad school and I required quite a few glasses of wine before I could muster up the courage to actually write it. I sat there with my resume turning each line into a sentence, trying and failing to avoid all opera bio related cliches, while attempting to sound humble yet accomplished, impressive enough, but not delusional. I waited a day or so before taking it out again to edit it, and even after going through it with a fine toothed comb, I still cringed as I sent it off. Writing about oneself (especially in the third person) is just awful!

Here are the worst things about writing a bio:

1. When you are self-managed it is very obviously you writing a bio about yourself. Everyone reading it is supposed to imagine that it’s someone else writing about how great you are, but in reality, it’s just you. I’m realizing now that when I read the bios of singers who are a tier or two above me in their careers, I always assume that someone else (their managers) wrote their bio for them, but is that the case? I wonder when you get to that point? For all I know, that’s the definition of ridiculous success. You know you’ve truly made it when someone else writes (and updates) your bio for you!

2. When writing a bio, you obviously want to sound accomplished, but you don’t want to look like a complete idiot by making a big deal out of the things you’ve done when your cast member just won a bunch of major competitions and finished up a debut at the Met or something like that. Likewise, you don’t want to downplay your accomplishments too much because the whole point of a bio is to make yourself look good to the audience. All you can really do is just state the facts of what you sang, where you sang it, and what someone wrote about it. The facts will inevitably speak for themselves. The audience will say “oh look, this guy just sang at the Met and the New York Times thought he was AMAZING….this Sara girl got her M.M. kinda recently and then she sang some stuff and some publications I’ve never heard of though it was pretty good.” Meh…I’ll take it.

3. Try as you might to be unique, bios all sound like one big lump of cliche. “Equally at home on the recital stage” anyone?

4. Reviews. We all know that reviews are stupid. Reviews are some stranger’s opinion (whether qualified or not) and no one should really take them too seriously. Easier said than done of course when it’s your performance being reviewed. I’ve heard it said that if you believe the good reviews you are also required to believe the bad ones, but I disagree completely and think that the ONLY mature way to handle reviews is to only believe the good ones (and put them in your bio) and disregard anything negative as utter hog wash (unless your teacher agrees, and then work that stuff out)! But now the important part: how do you make that sentence fragment with your name in it fit gracefully into your bio? Pull up your online thesaurus and start looking up synonyms for “praised” my friends, It’s time to put those ellipses and brackets to work!

My beloved friend Kyle and I had a really funny conversation about reviews and bios a while ago. There are a lot of really humorous “what-ifs” when it comes to this subject. I’m not sure if these are even funny to anyone else, but as I’m writing this I am cracking myself up so here goes nothing:

What if a really big publication reviews you and it’s not a positive review. Wouldn’t it be just too hilarious if you used in in your bio anyway? “Hailed by the New York Times for a performance that “had all the grace and beauty of screeching ally-cats”, soprano Tilda Tremolo is making her mark on the New York opera scene”. Or what if there aren’t any specific details about your performance mentioned in the review at all. No problem! “The Chicago Tribune praised “Bob Baritone [for his beautiful performance, as he] sang the role of Papageno”.

So for your amusement (and admittedly for my own), here are some fictional bios.  Enjoy!

Hailed by chorus girls across the state of New Hampshire as “a god among men”, and by his mother for “the most beautiful voice [she has] ever heard”, American Tenor Caleb Cuperto is poised to become one of the most sought after singers of our time. Equally at home on the opera, musical theater, concert, and karaoke stages, Cuperto possesses a “strong and impressive sound”. Now in his senior year of High School, he is a three year participant in the New Hampshire All-State Choir, where he impressed judges with his “adequate musical preparation”. He was acclaimed by the Davidson High School Newspaper for his “…high notes…” and his recent performance as Tony in West Side Story with Davidson High School Players left most of the audience in tears. His director remarked “he hit all the notes and his dancing wasn’t too bad either”. Cuperto made his international debut with his church choir on their trip to Italy in the Summer of 2013, and after a successful turn as Fredric in Pirates of Penzance with the neighboring girl’s school, Our Lady of Sorrows, there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that Cuperto will soon be a household name within the operatic arena.

With a voice like the richest of flambéed chocolate fondues, mezzo-soprano Portia Portamento always leaves her audiences hungering for more. One of the worlds leading interpreters in the iconic role of Carmen, Ms. Portamento’s delivery of the seductive anti-heroine is bold on the palate, with hints of cinnamon, bergamot, and cassis, finishing with a lingering whisper of shoe leather and cigar box. For her performances in the role she has been praised by the Allgemeine Zeitung for her “command of the stage” and “provocative performance”, by the Daily Mirror for her “strong projection” and “solid diction”, and by the Philadelphia Inquirer for her “emotionally informed portrayal”. Ms. Portamento’s Charlotte smacks of decadent crème brûlée with boysenberry glaze and a caramel drizzle, and for those craving something lighter, her Siebel is like a refreshing platter of crudités, with hints of crispy carrot and plump juicy cherry tomato, surrounding a decadent assortment of many luscious dips.

And last but not least….Opera Singer Bio Mad Libs:

(Voice type) (Name) captured the (noun pl.) of (noun pl.) across (place) with his/her (adjective) (noun) and (adjective) (fach) (voice type) voice. Recent performances include (role) in (opera) with (company) under the (noun) of (celebrity), (role) in (opera) with (company) under the (noun) of (celebrity), and (role) in (opera) with (company) under the (noun) of (celebrity). (Singer in question)’s other operatic appearances include (role) in (opera) with (company), (role) in (opera) with (company), (role) in (opera) with (company), (role) in (opera) with (company), (role) in (opera) with (company), and (role) in (opera) with (company), for which (news publication) praised his/her “(adjective) (noun)” and “(adjective) (gerund)”. Equally at home on the (musical genre) stage, (singer in question) has sung (work) by (composer) with (performance group), (work) by (composer) with (performance group), (work) by (composer) with (performance group), and (work) by (composer) with (performance group)

An avid recitalist, (singer in question) has sung (foreign language adjective) (foreign language noun) by (composer), chansons de (French word) by (French composer), and (German composer)’s die (as many German words as you can think of smushed together) Lieder.

(Singer in question) (verb past tense) at (name of music school) in (place) under the tutelage of (name of person), and earned (degree) and (degree) in (major).

He/she currently (verb)s in (place) where he/she likes to (verb) and (verb) in his/her spare time.

Have a great week! 🙂

Sara