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.