1. Even if I turn 35 or 40 and still am nowhere near a career, or got rejected by every single company and school I ever auditioned for, or got nodes and couldn't sing, or was the victim of some terrible accident in which my larynx was damaged and I lost my voice forever and completely, I still cannot imagine being so sad or so embittered not to find it in me to love music and especially vocal music. Yes, I am a diehard opera lover, a buff, a theatre rat; I collect paraphernelia, I internet-stalk my favourite singers, I hang out at the stage door, I am a compulsive opera youtuber. Guilty as charged.
I think this is helping me come to a more general realization, however, or more specifically, a definition: "passion" needs to encompass even the inability to participate fully in the object of the passion, and is also characterized by a lack of fear of the possibility that this may happen. I have described my passion for opera as such. Many people say they would still love their spouse if he or she cheated, or was paralyzed in a car accident, or had a strange personality disorder. Passion is a til-death-do-us-part thing; this is the type of passion you need, I think, for a career as a performer, and I am starting to realize the magnitude and reality of this. Musicians, ask yourselves: Would I still read Classical Music and listen to the BBC and go to the concert hall and the opera house and genuinely be happy for my colleagues' successes and clap happily and enjoy the music if the ability to play my instrument was taken away from me forever?
2. Practice is for real. Practice does make perfect. My teachers were not kidding. The only route to improvement and success is hard work. If there is no reason you shouldn't be able to sing a cadenza, but it's just not sitting right, it's not that it doesn't "fit your voice". You just haven't sung it enough times yet. Maybe 287 is the magic number. You don't know until you've reached 288. It may take weeks; that is not unheard of. I am a hard worker, but I think I finally get exactly how hard I need to work to make one miniscule improvement. There is no shortcut.
I've been doing some thinking as a result of these realizations, and concluded that in light of them, I need to make some changes. For the past little while, I haven't been acting like an opera singer who teaches English to make money, I've been an English teacher who also sings. That's fine, because it taught me exactly how I feel at this point in my life about the prospect of another career path. I am sure you can guess how that is. It is within my control and my control only how much or how little I sing -- and this is the biggest realization of all: I could get rejected from every single organization I ever applied to, and still sing two or three hours a day if I wanted. I shouldn't need a reason to practice or to make music. The motivation needs to come from within; this is not something you can make into a goal-oriented thing.
I saw Verdi's Requiem tonight at La Scala, with Daniel Barenboim on the podium (with no score) and Barbara Frittoli, Sonja Gassani, Jonas Kaufmann, and Rene Pape. I was lucky enough to have an incredible first-row seat in the upper galleries, where the sound is incredible; the ceiling is slightly domed, and the hall is circular, so from where I was, it sounded like the singers were all around me. It was a very moving concert.
I went to the stage door and got autographs after, and spoke with Jonas Kaufmann and another young tenor about singing, and thought about how I would like to become as successful as he is, so I can share my experiences with young singers who feel as messed up and unsuccessful as I sometimes feel right now. I'd like to be able to tell them that it IS possible; I think that I want this because I myself would like to know that it is possible. And funnily enough, these types of thoughts always circle and come to rest on me, because it is I who decides whether it happens or not. I control whether or not I am successful as a singer. It does no good at all to think, "I can work harder than anyone else out there and STILL never get a lucky break", because those are fatalistic thoughts; better is, "I can work harder than anyone else out there, and it will pay off".
Artists, my friends, we are accountable to ourselves. We need to continually ask ourselves why we do what we do, and how we plan on going about doing that; we need to take responsibility for our own lapses and also our own successes. And we need to be our own best guy in the corner. And with that said, I have some adjustments to make.
1 comment:
Wow, you have done it! You have figured out the secret to success. Work! Committment! Your passion for your work is essential. Your talent is essential. But work is the key. Most would be artists never realize what it takes to get to the next level. They think that because they have the talent the rest will come. It's not enough. There are no shortcuts. Tons of artists have talent, have what it takes. The failure is they don't work on their craft. They don't hone their skills. They expect their success to be handed to them. They arn't committed. It doesn't happen this way. I have been involved and been around many, many talented artists. From music to the theater and the common thread is the committment to continually work on their business. I have also been around many who thought they were a shooin but laid back waiting for the applause. They didn't understand why it wasn't there. You have made the most important decision of your artistic career. You understnad you need to bust your butt and rise above the crowd. You understand what committment means. You will be a success. Of that there is no doubt. Congratulations Danielle!
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