Four years ago, I was asked to start an “opera camp” at St. Edward’s University. Since that time, we have grown from a one-week event with fewer than 10 singers to producing fully staged and costumed operas, with close to 40 participants. It has been a great learning experience for me both as a singer and as an administrator.
Singers are always wondering “what were they thinking?” when it comes to those elusive People in Charge. Well, as someone who sits on both sides of the table, I’m happy to be in a position to tell you, in the hopes that it will help you have a more successful and fulfilling experience with your next program.
The Application
For some reason, it seems next to impossible for people to fill out an application correctly or fully. We receive so many filled with grammatical or spelling errors or missing vital bits of information. This creates extra work for me and my staff, and this makes us cranky. It gives the impression that you are too stupid, lazy, or careless to take time to make sure your application is right. It may not make the difference in whether you’re accepted into the program, but it certainly influences what kind of roles you get. I cannot risk giving a leading role to someone who is sloppy or unmotivated.
Do yourself a favor and proofread your applications. Make sure you include exactly the information requested, with specifics. If you’re asked what roles you would like to work on, “Anything Mozart” is a poor answer. “Despina, Zerlina, Papagena” not only shows that you are focused enough to have an opinion, it also tells us something about how you think about your voice and the direction you hope to go. It also helps us decide whether you have realistic expectations based on your current abilities, or if you might need some guidance in that area.
The Audition
Is there any single component of singing that causes more consternation in a singer’s heart than the audition? How we all agonize over what to offer, what to wear. How we second-guess ourselves and usually over-think things that aren’t that important. Young, inexperienced singers in particular are very focused on the negative—not making mistakes, not looking bad.
This is entirely the wrong attitude to take into an audition. An audition is a performance, and your job is to entertain and engage your audience—which, in this case, happens to be the audition panel. By the time you walk in the door, you can no longer be fussing over details—what you wore, whether you’re going to hit the B-flat, whether they’ll like you. If you aren’t sure you can hit a particular note, or if you don’t know your piece well enough to concentrate on artistry rather than merely “getting it right,” you shouldn’t be auditioning with that aria. Maybe you shouldn’t be auditioning at all, if that’s your level of preparation.
Besides, I’ll tell you a dirty little secret. The only time an audition panel is sitting there ticking off points for mistakes is when you’re singing a jury. In real auditions, we’re looking at the big picture. Nobody cares if you mangle a word or bobble a note, as long as it’s not chronic. An engaged, beautiful performance is bigger than the sum of its parts.
When you walk in the door to do an audition, you must be energetic, warm, confident, calm, and ready to put on a show. Or you have to fake it very well. Your outfit should be comfortable, stylish, clean, modest, and flattering. It should not distract. Your hair should be clean, styled, and out of your face so that we can see your eyes and your expressions. You should always, always take an extra set of materials to an audition, even if you already sent them in. Don’t bring your materials stapled together or placed in a folder. Simply stack them and hand them to the panel. Be respectful to the monitor and to the pianist. It’s OK to take the time to tell the pianist what you need, give tempi, etc.
As for repertoire, the most common mistake young singers make is to choose what they believe is impressive repertoire—or, in other words, going for flash rather than substance. Repertoire is impressive only if it is sung well. I would much rather hear a 20-year-old soprano sing a clean, charming “Danza, danza fanciulla” than struggle through an embarrassing “Un bel dì.” Don’t mistake being able to hit all the notes and having it “feel easy” for being able to actually sing a role.
I expect to see a certain lack of experience reflected in auditions for an opera workshop. What I am looking for, as an administrator, is someone who carries himself well, projects a pleasing personality and energy as a performer, and sings appropriate repertoire well. I want to see that you are self-aware. That doesn’t mean I won’t take on someone who comes in needing a lot of work in these areas, but he is unlikely to be cast in a leading role.
This next point probably seems like a “no brainer,” but don’t argue with or chide the audition panel. If they ask you for a set of materials, don’t say, “I already sent them to you.” Even if you did, it sounds petulant. If they ask you for repertoire, tell them, even if you included a written sheet (chances are they want to hear you talk). You don’t have to bow and scrape, but be sure you are polite.
Before we leave the subject of auditions, a final piece of advice: don’t waste my time by auditioning for my program if you have no intention of accepting an offer, and especially don’t wait until I’ve called you with an offer to tell me you don’t want to participate. You’d better make sure you have the money and the time to do the program before you audition. Casting is a complicated and time-consuming undertaking and, in some ways, not unlike a house of cards. If one piecefalls, sometimes the whole structure comes crashing down and you have to start all over again. The singer who wastes my time this way goes directly onto the “do not hear” list, and any other administrator, teacher, coach, or colleague who asks me about that singer will certainly get an earful.
The Follow-Up
Once upon a time, I directed a program staffed largely by very hard-working volunteers. One student who was scheduled to sing a leading role kept dragging his feet about returning some information. He was rude to the volunteers and finally told them that if they had to have it right then, they could get it from his website! In the time it took for him to write several long e-mails explaining why he couldn’t get us this information, he could have fired it off easily. Long story short, he was replaced.
This is an extreme example, but when you are really interested in something, you get on the ball and respond. It makes a good impression. As a program director, one of the things I hate most, which wastes so much of my time and makes me think of a singer as being lazy and immature, is having to drag information out of people. I hate it even more if a singer is making my staff do extra work.
We are all busy people, and we know you are too, but this is part of your job. You may not be a pro yet, but if you want to be, you’ll do yourself a huge favor by acting like one now. If you’re not sure what exactly that means, just know you can never go wrong by being courteous and prompt. When you get your information packet for your program, sit down right then and fill it out. Get your bio, get your measurements, gather whatever other information is needed. You should have it in the mail no less than one week from the time you receive it. And, yes, you will get brownie points from the administration for that.
The Preparation
The biggest difference between professionals and students, amateurs, and developing professionals, in my estimation, is that pros do whatever it takes to get the job done, no excuses. And one of the biggest mistakes amateurs and students make is underestimating the amount of time and effort they need to put into preparing a role—as well as lacking a definition of what “prepared” means.
A role that has been prepared properly and is ready for staging rehearsal is one that has been researched. You have read the entire score cover to cover, you know the plot and who every character is. You know the historical background of the play and the characters and have read the original play or story from which the plot derives. You have some understanding of the era in which the action takes place, what kind of clothing people wear, transportation they use, housing they have. You understand the characters’ social standing.
This role has been learned, note-perfect and rhythm-perfect. You should not be grasping for notes and rhythms. You have translated every word in the score. It is memorized. You may have a few slips when you’re staging, but you should be able to pick it up easily when someone throws you a line.
This role has been “sung into your voice.” You know where the pitfalls may be. You understand where you may need to pace yourself, where you can give more. You have studied different performance practices and tempi and are not locked in to one interpretation.
If you have done any less than that, you are not prepared. And if you have accepted a role, no matter what the time frame you have for preparation and what else you have going on in your life—work, school, family—you have agreed that you can have that role ready to rehearse by a certain date.
At my program, there is no grace period. We give singers a couple of days to get acclimated, but it’s clear at the first rehearsal who has done his homework and who has not. I guarantee you that by the end of that first rehearsal, if I have a singer who is not ready, I will either be putting the cover on alert or I will be on the phone finding a replacement. At our program, people who are not prepared do not perform, and we do everything we can to minimize their drag on their colleagues.
In professional productions, I have seen unprepared singers summarily dismissed at first rehearsals. It rather boggles the mind that so-called pros would show up unprepared, and it happens rarely, but it does happen. And I can guarantee you that if it happens to you, you will never audition, let alone perform, for that company again. At a program like mine, the only way an unprepared singer gets a second chance is if he works very hard and shows me that he has learned from his mistake and won’t make it again.
A final word about preparation. If reading the above filled your heart with despair, or sounds like a huge drag to you, you may be in the wrong business. This is the business. There is a tremendous amount of preparation that needs to be done before you are ready to take the stage.
There is a certain amount of drudgery involved in any job, even glamorous ones like singing, but think about this: you spend more time prepping roles and working on the business side of your career than you actually do on stage singing. Either you need to be as eager to tear into that work like a tiger into fresh meat, or the reward of getting to perform needs to be so strong for you that you are willing to do that work in order to get it.
The Gig
The very best way to make a great impression and, consequently, get the most out of your summer program, is to show up with a great attitude, ready to work, and to have fun.
Summer programs are usually hectic. The living arrangements, food, and even facilities may not be optimal. There may be a lot of schedule changes and last-minute issues to be worked around. You may not get much time off. This can be frustrating, but keep your focus on why you are there and what you hope to accomplish. One of the best things about summer programs is the intensity. If you work and keep a great attitude and sense of humor, you will emerge at the end of those few weeks having made greater strides than you might in a whole semester of school.
Show up on time for your rehearsals and coachings. Have some idea of what you want to accomplish when you get there, but be open to different ideas, especially about things like technique and repertoire. Remember, you are there to learn and to receive feedback, not necessarily to have your own ideas reinforced. Have fun, but don’t let your fun interfere with your work—if you stay up all night talking or enjoying adult beverages, it is going to take a toll on your voice and it will be noticed.
Everything is noticed, by the way. There are no secrets. You’d be surprised at what the faculty knows about quarrels, opinions about repertoire and faculty, and sleeping arrangements among the students. Some gossip and blowing off steam is inevitable, but try to keep the complaining to a minimum. At my program, we actively work to keep the atmosphere positive. It is so much more pleasant for everyone, and we accomplish much more by encouraging everyone to be team players. Behave respectfully toward your colleagues. Never correct them, and keep your opinions to yourself. In short, practice what my high school English teacher (hi, Ma Hilsabeck!) referred to as The Three D’s: Dignity, Discretion, and Decorum.
Leave your personal drama at home. I’ve observed that some singers seem to think that their issues will garner them sympathy—and on a personal level, they might. But program staff is overworked and short on time, trying to make sure every singer has a great experience, and from a professional standpoint, we just don’t have time for it. If you have a physical issue such as illness or injury, we certainly want to know and help you. Ditto if you’re having a hard time for personal reasons and need a little extra time or certain considerations. You shouldn’t hesitate to bring it to the administration privately. But it should be reasonable, it should stay private, and it shouldn’t leak over into rehearsals. If it gets to the point where it is interfering with rehearsals, performances, or your colleagues’ experiences, you may need to bow out. Needless to say, this will indeed make a bad impression. Sure, you’ll have sympathy, but you will also have created doubt about whether you can be counted on in the future.
Don’t make excuses. Ask for help if you’re having trouble—after all, you are at this program to learn—but take responsibility for yourself and work it out. Here’s another dirty little secret for you: in some situations, effort and attitude count for more than ability, and a summer program is often one of those situations. When you hit the professional world (and I include apprenticeships in this), the most important consideration is that you are able to deliver the goods. But in educational programs, I’d rather work with a less talented singer who is working hard and making progress than a lazy, attitude-filled diva to whom everything comes easily.
The Aftermath
Summer programs can be stepping stones to YAPs and even professional gigs. Many of the people you meet and work with, both faculty and students, are going to end up higher up the food chain in the industry—as singers, coaches, conductors, teachers, managers, and artistic administrators. (Examples: Metropolitan Opera baritone Mark Oswald attended Brevard the same year I did. And I apprenticed at Central City with bass Kelly Anderson, now Florida Grand’s new director of artistic administration—as well as with Metropolitan Opera sopranos Mary Dunleavy and Emily Pulley, and tenor Matthew Polenzani, and many more.) It pays to be, and stay, on good terms with people! This is a business of connections and networking. Often whom you know is the key piece of knowledge that will open a door for you. After all these years, I remember who the cut-ups were and who worked hard and got the job done, and that shows up on the roster of who is working in the business now and where.
The staff does a postmortem on the summer. We send out evaluations to the students (relatively few are returned, so if you don’t return one, don’t complain next year) to offer an opportunity for feedback and so we can try to better meet their needs. We also informally evaluate each singer and talk about what we would consider them for in the future. We even plan future repertoire based on singers we really like who we think might return. Then we go our separate ways, to different teaching jobs, administrative positions, and performing, where we come in contact with many, many other colleagues. And while we would never go out of our way to broadcast a singer’s failings (although I have been known to confab with a singer’s teacher over issues on and off the stage), we certainly will offer our opinions to other educators and administrators when asked.
The point is, even at this early stage in your development, word gets out. So what’s the best way to have a great experience at a summer program and ensure that “what they were thinking” is that you’re an asset they would love to have back? Bring your A game. And if you can’t do that, stay home.
