Last weekend was the annual Wisconsin NATS competition, when talented collegiate singers from nearly all of the colleges and universities across the state (plus a few gifted high school singers as well) come together in a spirited competition. And this year, for the first time in several years, I was not busy playing piano for Carthage students, but instead was sitting where I very much prefer to sit at NATS- in the judge’s chair! I absolutely love judging NATS, although I find it to be exhausting- especially if it turns out to be a busy gig, as it did for me this year. I had three back to back judging assignments: adult avocational, senior men, and finally the semi-final round of sophomore women. By the time I walked out of there at five minutes to six, I was ready for bed- but it was the happiest, most satisfying sort of exhaustion.
I should add that this year’s NATS competition was odd for me in that I did not have any students competing, for the first time since Carthage started going to NATS back around 1997 or so. It was mostly because this year’s competition was almost five hours away, which means two hotel nights rather than one and other added expenses. And in a year when the Carthage Choir is touring to Ireland, this was just more than most of my guys cared to take on, financially. I did have one student who decided at the last minute to compete, only to succumb to illness and withdraw. I actually did have one student competing but he entered under the auspices of his other teacher in the music theater category. So I officially had nobody competing- which felt weird but was also kind of nice in that I did not have to worry about any of them. I’m not talking about worrying that they might set the lavatory on fire- but rather worrying about how they would sing, how much they would enjoy the experience, and how would they respond if they didn’t advance in the competition. Because the harsh reality of NATS is that literally hundreds of singers perform very well but do not advance; it’s simple mathematics… but that doesn’t make it any easier for either student or teacher to accept the disappointments that come with this unforgiving competition. But this year, I didn’t have any of that to worry about.
Or so I thought.
It turns out that I worried and fretted plenty about the Carthage students that did go and compete – knowing that from our small group that made the trip this year, it was entirely possible that nobody would advance. And indeed, nobody did. . . a disappointing turn of events after last year’s competition in MIlwaukee when little ol’ Carthage College advanced eight. But I am so proud of our students for weathering that disappointment as well as they did and for being there for each other as much as they were. And those that sang well KNOW that they sang well and I hope still gained something from the experience.
So why do I love to judge NATS so much? First of all, it is so incredibly exciting to hear one splendid singer after another. . . and when you take a category like Senior Men or the semi-finals of Sophomore Women, you are pretty much hearing nothing but excellence, plus a handful of young singers who are so spectacular that they leave you slack-jawed with wonder. But that’s when the matter of judging becomes particularly fun – when you hear a singer whose performance leaves you immediately thinking “Wow!” but you have a responsibility to say more than that. So for instance, as I listened to a superb baritone from Viterbo named Aidan Smerud who had won NATS more than once before, I found myself listening to him with the utmost care and attention, so I could discern at least a couple of ways in which his wonderful singing could be even better. (Fortunately, he sang an opera aria – Bella Siccome un angelo from Donizetti’s Don Pasquale – that I myself sang in college and know like the back of my hand.) And once in awhile – although most emphatically not in the case of Aidan – you hear a singer with a spectacular voice who is not yet a fine singer in every sense of the word, and if they give off this air of “look out, folks! I’m about to amaze you!” I find myself taking a certain pleasure in taking them down a notch or two, in the hopes that they will wake up to the work they have yet to do. I say that as the grateful recipient of such an experience. I STILL remember from my sophomore year how a judge – I believe he was Albert Gammon, who taught at either Iowa State or U. of Iowa – lowered the boom on me for being sloppy with the details, especially in a song by Finzi called “Rollicum Rorum.” I can still rattle off, verbatim, the final words on his scathing ballot:
This student clearly has the raw potential to be a professional singer. He needs to learn that having a wonderful voice is not quite enough.
I won first place (and it was the second year in a row that I won first place) but I did not walk away from that competition with any sense of glorious accomplishment . . . but rather with an aching sense that I was a far lazier singer than I had ever imagined and that I had to do something about that. Those words on the page, for as shocking as painful as they were to read, changed me forever – and I will always be grateful to Dr. Gammon for writing them. Which is not to say that I suddenly became the hardest working singer you ever saw- but at least from that point on I was not operating under any illusions about my work ethic, and I really did try to do much better in that regard rather than coasting on my talent. And when I judge NATS, I pray that I will be just that unstintingly forthright and perceptive as I judge these young singers…. the vast majority of whom I will never meet again. Maybe part of what I appreciate about this experience is that in-person I have a lot of trouble with this Tough Love thing – and maybe when I judge NATS I make up for lost time. To be clear, the vast majority of singers I heard at NATS are as committed as can be- you can just tell when singing is truly CENTRAL to a young singer, rather than just one of a bunch of things they like to do – or something for which they are willing to be just as good as they happen to be versus longing to be as good as they can possibly be. And for sure you can tell the difference between a singer who likes to sing and a singer who LOVES singing more than anything else in the world – as the thing which makes them feel especially alive. When judging a singer like that, more than anything I just want to say “thank you for brightening up this room with your unbridled joy.”
By the way, the most interesting division I judged was Adult Avocational, because that is always a crazy quilt of widely varied ability levels. It can range from singers fresh from serious collegiate study in music to housewives who have just discovered their love of singing – and everything in between. Judging an array of singers like that felt a bit like riding a roller coaster of sorts, but it was exhilarating to be so potently reminded that good singing is a joy open to everyone.
A last quick word about judging at NATS. One of the strangest moments of the day came at the end of the day when I was walking through the crowded commons room where the singers gathered to await the posting of results. More than once as I made my way through the crowd, I walked right past singers I had just judged a few minutes earlier as they were reading their comment sheets, one of which would have been from me. Rather than slowing down in order to eavesdrop, I found myself quickening my pace for fear that I might otherwise overhear someone say “Listen to this. This is even crazier than the last thing he said!” or “Man, what an idiot!” Walking through that crowd reminded me that back in the room where the performance took place, the judge holds the power . . . but once we have rendered our judgment, the power in a sense reverts to the singer. At that point they can embrace what we have said – or discard it out of hand and render it utterly useless and meaningless. My hope is that in at least a few cases, I had something helpful to say- and maybe, just maybe, I said something that may in some way alter the course of a given singer for the better. Judges can hope for nothing more satisfying than that.
Pictured above: The big commons room that I mentioned before. See the young lady with the pink coat on, immediately right of center? Just beyond her are several guys, one of whom I judged in the Senior Men division- and who was reading his critique sheets when I snapped this picture from across the room.