Of everything that was on the schedule for the recently completed NATS convention, what excited me the most was a special session designed to help us as voice teachers to prepare our students to sing the best possible opera audition. A panel of four experts was convened to speak to us – and they included Christopher McBeth, Artistic Director of the Utah Symphony and Opera. . . Matthew Horner, who is a vice president with IMG, which is one of the biggest management firms for classical vocalists. . . George Shirley, a former star tenor with the Metropolitan Opera (among other companies) who has gone on to be a distinguished voice teacher. . . and last but not least, Gayletha Nichols, who is executive director of the Metropolitan Opera Auditions. That was a lot of expertise up on that stage and they held us spellbound with a wide-ranging yet perfectly cohesive discussion about what matters most in opera auditions. . . including the things they hear which tend to be absolute “deal-breakers.” Aside from musical basics such as “singing out of tune,” “singing wrong notes,” and “singing with wanton disregard for the markings in the music,” they also mentioned stuff like being rude to those who are helping facilitate the auditions. (I think it was Mr. McBeth who said that every single singer is nice to him because he’s the guy who is ultimately doing the hiring – but quite a few singers won’t be nice to anyone else involved in the process. . . “as if we won’t talk with each other!” he crowed. “As if the auditions receptionist wouldn’t let me know about who acted like an impossible diva!”) The panelists were smart and articulate – and occasionally funny- and we were hanging on their every word.
Although all four of them were great, I was especially excited about Mr. Shirley because he was a wonderful singer whom I had just heard on Sirius Radio a week or so earlier. And as luck would have it, right before the discussion began, he was standing around at the front of the room, all by himself . . . as if no one recognized him. . . so I went up to tell him how much I admired his singing- and he proved to be a perfect gentleman who was also very easy to talk to.
I was also very excited that Gayletha Nichols was on this panel, since she was featured very prominently in a recent documentary called “The Audition” which followed the finalists of the 2007 Metropolitan Opera Auditions. I was really impressed with her smarts- as well as her heart. One of my favorite moments came towards the beginning of the film, when it was time for her to announce which twelve singers (of 22) were about to advance to the final round. Just as she was about to begin reading off the names, she paused – cleared her throat – and then choked out the words “this is hard.” She knew that with that announcement she was going to be delivering thrilling news to about half of the singers in the room and heartbreaking news to the rest of them. . . and the fact that she was sensitive to the feelings of all these young singers, even after all these years of running the auditions, says a lot about her as a human being. Anyway, she was in many ways the star of the panel – or at least the person who was really good at tying things together. I loved what she had to say.
And then . . .
And then came an experience which was by far the most unpleasant and uncomfortable experience of the entire five days of the convention. In fact, just thinking about it is giving me a sick feeling in my gut.
Evidently, the organizers of the convention asked that the panelists listen to two young(ish) singers in what would amount to mock opera auditions. . . except that instead of what happens in the real deal, the panelists would say exactly what they thought about what they had just seen and heard. . . with complete frankness. This was not about giving encouragement- This was about delivering the cold, hard truth, no matter how painful. In an actual audition in the real world, spoken critique or comment is almost never given. It’s all about whether or not you offer someone a role- and that’s the only feedback a singer typically gets. . . although the singer gets some idea if they’re cut off before they’ve finished their first aria. That’s a good clue that they’ve heard enough. 🙁 But in this scenario, the panelists would verbalize their reaction to whatever these singers offered. . . and they were specifically asked to be completely and even brutally honest.
And they were.
A soprano got up on that stage and sang a very pretty and fairly expressive performance of a Mozart aria that wasn’t very familiar to me. (It was in German, so it might have been from Abduction from the Seraglio.) Anyway, I found her to be a charming performer, even if the voice was not particularly remarkable. I thought she was perfectly fine.
The panel felt differently. Boy, did they ever. I can’t remember now exactly what they said except that they were completely unimpressed. And in the words of one of the panelists, “you lost me on the first line.” They did let her sing the first aria in its entirety and then asked for a second aria (“Depuis le jour” from the opera “Louise”) but they were even less impressed and cut her off after she had sung only a page of it.
It’s not that they were mean. They were about as polite as they could have been – and I was glad that Gayletha Nichols began by thanking her for singing and praising her for her courage. But then. . . wham! Voice isn’t big enough. . . support is suspect. . . German diction not good. . . style rather amateurish. . . It last a few minutes but it felt like hours to me – – – and if it felt like that to me, from the safety of my front row seat in the audience, how tortuous must it have been for that singer up on the stage, standing there and listening to these comments. I could barely look at her- but I did glance up from my notebook every few seconds just to make sure she hadn’t broken down in tears. (If she had started to cry, I’m pretty sure I would have as well – and then probably run from the room.) Part of what made it so hard was that voice teachers certainly have to hand out some criticism . . . it’s part of the job. . . but we tend to do it carefully and only if it’s couched in compliments about what the singer is doing right. But this was not about that at all, and on some visceral level, it felt for all the world like someone was beating up Bambi.
Then at last, mercifully, they were done – she left the stage (to very enthusiastic and encouraging applause, by the way) and a tenor took her place and sang the famous aria from “The Daughter of the Regiment” with its 9 high C’s. And he nailed it pretty well, and because they were almost out of time, they had almost no time for comment or critique beyond a couple of compliments.
WHEW!
It was a fascinating learning experience for all of us in that room. . . and for as difficult as it was for me to sit through that first audition and the critique session which followed it, I do have to mention one positive outcome. Those painful few minutes completely cured me of the feelings of regret which pop up every so often when I wonder what might have happened if I had really stuck to my guns and pursued an opera career. Hearing that unvarnished critique lobbed at that sweet, unsuspecting soprano like a bunch of hand grenades made me grateful . . . yes, grateful . . . that I chose the path I did. Because when God was handing out gifts and skills and talents, He forgot to give me a thick skin. And if a wonderful voice is Requirement #1 for an opera career, Requirement #2 is a hide as thick as an elephant’s.
Thanks, Mr Shirley & Friends, for the reminder.
pictured above: Former Metropolitan Opera tenor George Shirley and Met Auditions Executive Director Gayletha Nichols.