Some memorable moments from Saturday’s State Solo & Ensemble competition at UW-Parkside…… (and texts from Handel’s Messiah for my headings – for no particular reason)
*”Great was the company. . .” I love State Solo & Ensemble as much as anything because of who I get to be with and see all day long. First and foremost are the young musicians with whom I’ve been working …. some for quite a few years …. who fill the place with such energy and enthusiasm. Second, it’s actually fun and intriguing to watch various judges in action… especially when you might play for five singers in a row for the same judge, and thus get to hear how they react to and interact with a variety singers. (And some of these judges are incredibly interesting people.) And then of course there are the choral directors and voice teachers, without whom none of this would be possible. It’s always especially fun to have teachers from both Kenosha and Racine and other nearby communities gathered together at the same competition. . . it’s roughly akin to the thrill when Iron Man, Thor, and Captain America join forces as The Avengers. I know Polly Amborn and Elizabeth Steege (high school directors from Kenosha-Tremper and Racine-Case, respectively) aren’t typically likened to Marvel Comics superheroes, but maybe they should be! And contest would certainly not be the same if it weren’t for all the family members who sweep in like a tidal wave.
“To Receive Honor. . .” Beyond a I rating, the highest honor that a given performer can earn is an Exemplary Award. Each judge has a very limited number of such honors which they can award throughout the day, with certain judges not giving out any for whatever reason. So it’s a special honor indeed. I’ve had several voice students- including Max Dinan, Josh Hamm, and Mike Anderle, earn this award in the past…. and this year I was privileged to see two of my students receive Exemplary Awards. One was tenor Ryan Anderson, who had earned at least one Exemplary Award in the past – who earned this particular one for an especially intense performance of “This is the Moment” from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. which left the judge all but speechless. It was a great honor but not completely unexpected. More dramatic because neither of us saw it coming was the Exemplary Award given to baritone Andrew McNair, one of Polly’s most valuable singers at Tremper and a senior. He sang the performance of his life of Handel’s “Si trai ceppi,” an aria that is so much harder than it sounds and is only likely to be fully appreciated by an especially astute judge. But Andrew’s judge recognized the superb work that he had done, and was only too pleased to reward him. Here’s what was so great about that: Andrew loves singing and loves music as much as anyone I’ve ever taught- but for as seriously as he takes it and for as hard as he works on it, I don’t think the ratings matter to him- and as I said before, I’m quite sure that it never crossed his mind that he might be in the running for an Exemplary award. And that’s what quadrupled the joy of the moment and what brought both Polly and me to tears. It could not have happened to a kinder, more deserving young man.
“The Trumpet Shall Sound…” This time around, my contest schedule was so much simpler than it’s typically been. I had only one complication, but it was a doozy. A fine young trumpeter was scheduled to play quite late in the afternoon- too late for me to get to Carthage in time for a recital I was accompanying. The advice that was ultimately given to JR was to show up at the room at the very beginning of the day and ask to be slipped in, if the judge was willing to be accommodating. The guy very kindly agreed to hear JR during the break scheduled for 8:50…. and as we walked in and I started to thank the judge for being willing to help us, he cut me off with “The way I see it, I”m here to listen to music. . . NOT to take breaks!” I loved his attitude! And by the way, JR played up a storm on the last movement of the Hummel Concerto. And as he and I finished playing the last measure of this intimidating piece, I breathed a gigantic WHEW for more reasons than one!
“Behold, He Shall Come. . .” One of the comical moments came very early in the day. I had just finished playing for Brian Nielsen, a fine young baritone from Racine (and my church) and was standing by to play for Mateo Garcia- Novelli, who happens to be the son of Carthage Choir director Eduardo Garcia-Novelli, as soon as he got there. Just then, a Kenosha student of mine, Scott Bredin, scheduled to sing a few minutes later, came up to me to say that someone waiting out in the hallway didn’t know where their pianist was and wondered if Scott would mind going in their place. You guessed it. Mateo was out in the hallway, expecting me to come walking down the hall- and I was already in the room, waiting for him. It was good for a laugh, and maybe that helped loosen up Scott to sing the best performance he’s ever given of “Gia’il sole dal Gange.” Interestingly enough, Mateo sang the same song- albeit it in a different arrangement- and it proved to be a fun exercise in comparison between two fine baritones in 2 different versions of the same song. And of course, the moral of the story is: When looking for your accompanist, don’t forget to look in the room.
“Keeping Watch. . . “ One of the perpetual challenges of the day was in trying to keep my music steady and stationary on piano music racks that were SO badly designed. 3 ring binders seemed to be okay because they were heavier, but I was playing off of loose sheets that refused to stay up and more often than not ended up either in my lap, on the floor, or both. The worst was my second to last event, a young woman from Tremper singing an old Italian song called “Le Violette.” Just as I began to play the introduction, the sheets started curling over and falling over each other, and in the frustration of the moment, I grabbed the music and just plopped it on the top of the piano, figuring it was easier to play without the music than to play with music that was just going to be falling every which way. But then I realized that this is one of those Italian songs that isn’t all that tough to play, but because it’s so repetitive – and because there are a couple of different versions of it – it’s tricky to keep track of what’s next. So I found myself having to listen incredibly closely to the young lady in question and trying my best to anticipate what she would sing next, so my accompaniment would be right. I’ve never sweated so hard through one of the simple Italian Top 24 songs – but I’m happy to say that I followed her just fine, both by listening and watching her as closely as I possibly could. And when the performance was over and I glanced over my shoulder, Polly was giving me a very sweet smile which essentially said “I am aware of what you just managed to do. Thank you.” I will savor that moment for a long time to come.
“Who can be against us?” . . . Remember my countertenor voice student Jacob Beckman? His judge for district contest, much to my relief, absolutely loved his singing and had no trouble whatsoever with the notion of a young man singing as a countertenor. Oddly enough, his judge at State Contest seemed much more taken aback and asked Jacob a couple of pointed questions about how and when and why he was doing this – what gave him the idea – why did he enter in the Unchanged Voices division. In fact, the judge said something to the effect that in thirty years of judging and bringing people to contest, this was the first time he can ever remember encountering a counter-tenor. But while the questions made Jacob understandably a bit nervous, I tried to reassure him afterwards that I think the judge was just trying to be honest and forthright about his own inexperience. And Jacob, much to his credit, did a good job of fielding the questions – and of deftly throwing the ball both to me and to Ms. Amborn when things got a little too complicated. It was interesting because it was probably a good reminder for Jacob that being a counter-tenor means, among other things, sometimes singing for people who will not begin to understand what it’s all about. And in those cases, all you can do is sing the best you can and let everything else take care of itself.
“A Vain Thing. . . “ I do have to mention one judge who was a real piece of work and who seemed to have the whole concept of “it’s about the students” or “it’s about the music” twisted into “it’s all about the judge. It’s all about ME.” I don’t know her name and wouldn’t share it if I did, especially because she seemed like a perfectly competent judge with some worthwhile things to say. But in all of my years of doing this, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a judge more desperate to be nominated for Entertainer of the Year. First of all, she tried to phrase everything in a sort of mock teenager lingo that made me want to scream – told extravagant stories about herself, about how she almost went into opera but chose teaching instead and plenty of other stories of negligible relevance – cracked jokes – and after one young singer’s performance, sang the high B- flat for her not once, not twice, but three times. And it’s not that the few comments and suggestions she made weren’t solid- but in her haste to be a comedian it was amazing how often she failed (for instance) to tell the baritone singing a certain Italian song that he sang wrong rhythm in two of his entrances. I guess that would be too boring when there are jokes to crack and amusing yarns to spin. I’m not sure I’m doing this lady justice or adequately conveying how immensely annoying she was, at least for Polly and I – who were in that room for about seven straight competitors, and thus a captive audience to this woman who did everything but don ridiculous Lady Gaga outfits between each competitor. I think I might have run from the room screaming if it hadn’t been possible to exchange glances Polly from time to time, which was like tripping a little escape valve. In those situations, Polly gets this very funny look on her face- a sort of twisted look around her eyes – that looks like she just ate some unexpectedly rancid cheese. The look is typically there for just a moment, but it silently screams “O MY GOD!!!” I don’t know if my facial expression in such situations is quite that subtle, but I hope it is – especially because I’m typically sitting right up front on the piano bench in full view. But then again, I’m pretty sure that all eyes were on the Entertainer Of The Year. (And by the way, I think that if I had gone up to this woman and said something to her about the way she was grabbing the focus away from the students she was hearing, she would have been horrified. I’m sure she does not realize what’s happening- but I hope someday somebody says something to her.)
I mention her not so much to criticize her – although I think she deserves to be taken to task for wresting the spotlight away from those who should rightfully have it – but rather to underscore the tireless, selfless contribution of the judges who gladly give up a Saturday in May to be a part of this amazing event to try and make a difference for the better in the lives of young musicians whom they don’t even know and yet – somehow – care deeply about.
My, what nice lessons one learns while experiencing the up’s and down’s, the joys and disappointments of State Solo & Ensemble.
pictured above: Here are my two Gia’il sole dal Gange guys: Scott Bredin and Mateo Garcia-Novelli. They both did a fine job.