Friends, please let me know which is your favorite Amanda! Leave a comment below, or email me. Thanks!
Bedhead 
Tilted
Straightforward
Eager
Wise
Friday, September 29, 2006
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Let me rephrase that.....
After re-reading my somewhat gruesome previous post, I realized I should clarify something: I’m actually starting to like auditioning! After I left the audition I wrote about before, I felt jumpy, that’s true, but fairly pleased with how things turned out, and knowing that I couldn’t have done better than I did. The self doubt etc. comes when I think thinks went poorly, but mostly I’ve learned not to worry about it. After showing up and finishing off, there’s nothing more I can do about it.
That audition even earned praise from the chair of the opera department for my poise. But as for my placement in the opera program? The lowest rung of all: a performance class with no chance of being considered for one of the productions. I was stung, but my teacher was pleased. Apparently, not all voice majors are accepted in the class or the operas, and it was something of a coup for a singer from the historical performance department. In general, opera singers view the early music singer as an ugly, retarded second-cousin. I’ll learn something from this class (and maybe my younger colleagues will learn something from me), and it’s a smaller time commitment that frees me up for other things……
………such as more auditions. It is the beginning of audition season now, as every youngish singer in the country chases after summer programs, young artist apprenticeships, and any other opportunity that will get them onstage. I’ll join that flock, and meanwhile, I’m auditioning for local things around Boston. Quite a few, I must say, and some particularly exciting ones. I have my eye on a role I feel destined for, perfect for a tall mezzo, at a place where they just might want to have me….. I won’t even describe it, for fear of jinxing it. Whatever happens, I am learning to audition, and that’s valuable enough.
* * * * *
“A lot of good voices went down with those towers.” It was days after September 11, 2001, when learning how to sing seemed like the most frivolous thing in the world, but I had dutifully come in for my voice lesson. My teacher was explaining that the World Trade Center was a favorite place for singers to temp, where the financial giants paid the best hourly rates to help working (and aspiring singers) in the lean months. (At the time my teacher was in remission from cancer. It would soon return with aggression, and he would die within 30 months.)
There must have been singers who were just returning from summer programs, or singers who perform during the year but work in offices during the slow summer. Singers just about to quit their jobs for a chance to sing, singers just out of college trying to work to pay their debts before pursuing their career — later.
Whatever my failures or disappointments, I accept them gratefully, as I’m sure these colleagues would have done.
That audition even earned praise from the chair of the opera department for my poise. But as for my placement in the opera program? The lowest rung of all: a performance class with no chance of being considered for one of the productions. I was stung, but my teacher was pleased. Apparently, not all voice majors are accepted in the class or the operas, and it was something of a coup for a singer from the historical performance department. In general, opera singers view the early music singer as an ugly, retarded second-cousin. I’ll learn something from this class (and maybe my younger colleagues will learn something from me), and it’s a smaller time commitment that frees me up for other things……
………such as more auditions. It is the beginning of audition season now, as every youngish singer in the country chases after summer programs, young artist apprenticeships, and any other opportunity that will get them onstage. I’ll join that flock, and meanwhile, I’m auditioning for local things around Boston. Quite a few, I must say, and some particularly exciting ones. I have my eye on a role I feel destined for, perfect for a tall mezzo, at a place where they just might want to have me….. I won’t even describe it, for fear of jinxing it. Whatever happens, I am learning to audition, and that’s valuable enough.
* * * * *
“A lot of good voices went down with those towers.” It was days after September 11, 2001, when learning how to sing seemed like the most frivolous thing in the world, but I had dutifully come in for my voice lesson. My teacher was explaining that the World Trade Center was a favorite place for singers to temp, where the financial giants paid the best hourly rates to help working (and aspiring singers) in the lean months. (At the time my teacher was in remission from cancer. It would soon return with aggression, and he would die within 30 months.)
There must have been singers who were just returning from summer programs, or singers who perform during the year but work in offices during the slow summer. Singers just about to quit their jobs for a chance to sing, singers just out of college trying to work to pay their debts before pursuing their career — later.
Whatever my failures or disappointments, I accept them gratefully, as I’m sure these colleagues would have done.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Next?
Non-musicians will often marvel when I mention to them that I have an audition coming up. They will sometimes gasp with astonishment, and then remark that it must be a frightening experience that they would not have the mettle to undergo.
If you’d like, you can simulate the feelings that surface during an audition without having to go through the process yourself. Simply insert a dull knife just below your breastbone. Then cut a shallow incision from the top of your gut to your navel, just deep enough to sever the lateral abdominal muscles. Then, remove your intestines with your fingers. See, wasn’t that easier than standing in front of strangers and singing a song?
Auditioning is a critical part of the process of becoming a professional, but it’s an overlooked skill. When I practice, I imagine the pleasures of performing, not the anxiety of being judged. Poor auditioning skills have been the downfall of plenty of worthy singers, and my own attempts at the craft certainly need some strengthening.
Over the summer I had the chance to sing for various different people and groups, and start to figure out how it works for me. If I begin to judge myself, even with positive thoughts (“Oh they love me! That note was fabulous! I’m born for this!”), I set myself up for trouble. The negative thoughts soon follow: “They hate me. That note was awful. What the hell am I doing here?”) I’m finding that the system I need to follow includes making sure I start and stay on my breath (either singing or at least moving around immediately prior to singing is crucial to this), and imagine a singer I admire standing in front of me, singing along, and encouraging me all the way. Is that corny or what??
But the thing is, as a singer, every single encounter with colleagues, directors, professors, conductors, instrumentalists, or nearly any other musical professional is an audition. Whether I’m singing or not, I’m trying to communicate my intelligent professionalism, my profound musical understanding, my sweet and amenable personal manner, my ravishing acting style, and my seemingly psychic connection with composers’ intents. Any contact or any occasion can ultimately help advance – or stall – your career.
I have my audition for the opera programs at school tomorrow, which will decide my placement in productions for the year. I’m actually confident, regardless of the fact that the teacher I rejected last year will be among those hearing me. I’m singing well right now, I know how to pull myself together, and I also know that even when I think I do poorly, the net performance is still passable.
But undoubtedly, I will leave the 7-minute audition tomorrow feeling like I always do: frightened, unhinged, covered in self-doubt, inferior, untalented, and wishing I could try again. For even if I do well, even if I win a terrific role, I will not come away with what I really want from an audition. I want the person hearing me to take me in their arms. I want to nestle my head in their shoulder as they kiss my forehead. And I want them to promise me that everything will be alright in my career.
If you’d like, you can simulate the feelings that surface during an audition without having to go through the process yourself. Simply insert a dull knife just below your breastbone. Then cut a shallow incision from the top of your gut to your navel, just deep enough to sever the lateral abdominal muscles. Then, remove your intestines with your fingers. See, wasn’t that easier than standing in front of strangers and singing a song?
Auditioning is a critical part of the process of becoming a professional, but it’s an overlooked skill. When I practice, I imagine the pleasures of performing, not the anxiety of being judged. Poor auditioning skills have been the downfall of plenty of worthy singers, and my own attempts at the craft certainly need some strengthening.
Over the summer I had the chance to sing for various different people and groups, and start to figure out how it works for me. If I begin to judge myself, even with positive thoughts (“Oh they love me! That note was fabulous! I’m born for this!”), I set myself up for trouble. The negative thoughts soon follow: “They hate me. That note was awful. What the hell am I doing here?”) I’m finding that the system I need to follow includes making sure I start and stay on my breath (either singing or at least moving around immediately prior to singing is crucial to this), and imagine a singer I admire standing in front of me, singing along, and encouraging me all the way. Is that corny or what??
But the thing is, as a singer, every single encounter with colleagues, directors, professors, conductors, instrumentalists, or nearly any other musical professional is an audition. Whether I’m singing or not, I’m trying to communicate my intelligent professionalism, my profound musical understanding, my sweet and amenable personal manner, my ravishing acting style, and my seemingly psychic connection with composers’ intents. Any contact or any occasion can ultimately help advance – or stall – your career.
I have my audition for the opera programs at school tomorrow, which will decide my placement in productions for the year. I’m actually confident, regardless of the fact that the teacher I rejected last year will be among those hearing me. I’m singing well right now, I know how to pull myself together, and I also know that even when I think I do poorly, the net performance is still passable.
But undoubtedly, I will leave the 7-minute audition tomorrow feeling like I always do: frightened, unhinged, covered in self-doubt, inferior, untalented, and wishing I could try again. For even if I do well, even if I win a terrific role, I will not come away with what I really want from an audition. I want the person hearing me to take me in their arms. I want to nestle my head in their shoulder as they kiss my forehead. And I want them to promise me that everything will be alright in my career.
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