My students tend to hunch over music placed on the table in front of the piano. No more. I found our music stands. I’ve placed them at two heights – for shorter or taller singers. Now, stand tall and look straight ahead when you sing. It’s better for breathing, singing and appearance. Remember you don’t want to sing to the ceiling either. We want to see your eyes, not your chin.
Blog
The Rush
Something that came up recently during our weekly studio meeting (aka Sunday afternoon teatime after walking the dog), was the difference between working with students who are “serious” and “not serious,” what that really means, and how to encourage talented students to consider becoming “serious.” It’s true that we’re always going to be teaching quite a number of students who are in it “just for fun” and there’s nothing wrong with that. But what is especially rewarding for us and where we can best enjoy the fruits of our labors, is working with students who have a serious goal in mind, whether that goal is to make a career in the arts or even just to have a stronger audition for next year’s school musical.
A Dream Unrealized, But Not Forgotten
Years ago, about twenty-five or thirty, I think, a small group of, at that time, current and former students sat in our family room in Bridgeport, Michigan and tossed around the idea of one day living and working in a shared arts community. It was referred to then as the “family mansion”. We truly considered ourselves one large family and in many ways still do. These were young people, high school and college kids who had worked closely with us in school and out. We talked about it a lot in those days.
Of course, it wasn’t at all realistic. No consideration was given to the reality of them one day having families of their own or the financial enormity of such a venture. It was just a wonderful thing to contemplate. The thought of the “starving artist” never entered the conversation, but gads it was inspiring and fun.
The extended family is much larger now and many of them continue to pursue their artistic visions. Many do have families of their own and all are much more aware of the “starving artist’ scenario. The realities that restricted the original dream are still in place, but in quiet moments a stray thought of that time long ago manages to creep in. At my age I should not entertain any such thoughts. But hey, any of you out there have any hot ideas?
Let’s discuss practicing
Your use of practice time between lessons can definitely influence “getting your money’s worth.” You will make progress even if you rarely practice between lesson sessions, but you will get more for your money and get ahead more quickly if you make good use of your practice time. Here are some thoughts. Feel free to comment or add to the list.
Borrowing the Good Stuff
Stealing the good stuff is probably closer to the truth. As educators and artists we do it all the time. At least I know that I have and will continue to pilfer the truths that I find in others’ work and observations. Of course, we tinker with the knowledge we glean from other sources, tweak it in ways that make it, in some way, our own and convince ourselves that we have created a better thing. Or, we just take it as we find it and quietly use it word for word without shame. No guilt is necessary, I think, unless we claim it as our own and try to profit from it on that basis.
So, now is the time for me to “fess up” by acknowledging the people I “borrow” from daily. If you are a former colleague or student, be assured that I have borrowed from you a lot. As I have stated before, over the years I have learned more from colleagues, friends and students than they have ever learned from me.
In my teaching and coaching of actors, I have harvested and continue to harvest huge amounts from writings by Constantin Stanislavski, Lee Strasberg, Sanford Meissner, Maxine Klein and Uta Hagen. There are others, but these are, in the main, the ones I rely on most. I sought them out on my own with the exception of Maxine Klein, whose book, Time Space and Designs for Actors, was introduced to me over twenty years ago by the drama instructor at Saginaw Valley State University. Three of my high school students, Maria Infante, Kathy Christian and Melissa Stenzel and I, signed up for a summer acting class. It was great and I have been stealing from all of them ever since. Thanks kids.
The most recent of the books from the above-mentioned authors is Uta Hagen’s, The Challenge for the Actor. I have found it most useful and highly recommend it. I only borrow the good stuff.
The Authentic You
While coaching a student recently, I found myself going on at length about the importance of bringing “yourself” to an audition. As I went on, I realized that this has multiple meanings for me. Each of these is equally important and also perhaps equally contrary to what many students are taught in school.
The most obvious element to this is simply being yourself. What I think many young actors don’t realize when they first begin auditioning, is that the folks behind the table are just the same as anyone they’ve worked with on a show before. They are talented, passionate people with a love for their work, and the thing they are looking for at an audition–sometimes more than anything else,–is someone they will like. The actors they cast from this audition are people they are going to be stuck working with for the length of their show’s rehearsal period at the very least and just like you, they want to have a good time. I don’t necessarily mean “a good time” as in “hours of partying, fun, and frolic” (though with some companies that may be accurate) but this is a business people go into because they genuinely love it and part of what makes that sustainable is choosing fun, adaptable, talented people to work with. Forget everything you learned from voice recitals, college auditions, and drilling for the SETCs, and just be yourself. Be a polite, well-groomed, articulate version of yourself, yes, but don’t be afraid to be warm or to smile or laugh if something is funny, and above all show them who you are. When I was performing professionally, I was never the person who fit most perfectly into anyone’s preconceived notion of what they were looking for in an audition, but with a combination of talent and an easygoing, distinctive personality I was able to be someone people wanted to cast, and the directors I worked with would alter their preconceptions to make that happen.
Secondly, one of the most important things you can do for yourself as a professional performer is to recognize your greatest strength. At any given audition, there are going to be at least forty people (that is a completely made-up statistic, but you get my point) who fall into the same general category as you do in the minds of the auditioners. What is it that makes you special? Do you have an exceptionally fantastic singing voice? Are you an extremely strong actor? Can you dance circles around everyone else? Chances are, no matter how hard you’ve worked to shore up your skills, there is still one thing that you do better than the other people around you. Be honest with yourself about what this is, and use that in any way you can. Maybe what makes you special isn’t any one of these things, but the fact that you are genuinely competent in each (this is much rarer than you think). Or maybe the truth is that you are simply better-looking than anyone else in the room. If you’ve got it, use it. What makes you special is your foot in the door. Keep working to improve your weaker areas, but don’t hesitate to show off what’s best in an audition, and don’t be ashamed to take steps to cover up those weaknesses. If you are worried you can’t hit that high “A” every time, don’t sing a song that requires it. Find the piece that shows off your strength and nail it at every audition.
Lastly, and this is the one that’s going to get me in trouble, don’t let ideas of perfection train your uniqueness out of you. Some of your teachers may hate me for saying this, but sometimes your faults are what make your talent unique. I was listening to Rufus Wainwright in the car today. He’s one of my favorite singers, though his technique is terrible. He barely opens his mouth, giving him a lazy, nasal tone. He’s a heavy smoker, which makes his mid-range raspy and kills his breath control (this is most obvious in live performance). He slides all over the place, like he’s singing with a slow drawl. It is all these things, however, that make him sound like Rufus Wainwright and the truth is, I absolutely love that sound. I can’t get enough of it. I’d even go so far as to say that his studio recording of “Poses” is one of the loveliest performances in my entire CD collection. Now, I’m not suggesting that you should all start smoking and stop opening your mouths when you sing (no, please no), and certainly Rufus’ particular characteristics are not things generally accepted in theater. What I am saying is that there may be something unique about your talent that is contrary to accepted norms and it’s not necessarily something you should get rid of, at least not entirely. If it makes singing, acting, etc. harder (like Rufus’ smoking), then absolutely you should. And yes, if you want to get first class chorus work, you’d better work to have that perfect voice. But if you want to be remembered, sometimes that little imperfection is what will push you over the edge. If you think this is the case, don’t fear it. Use it. Even as you’re working to be your best, you want to be the best you, not someone else.
As you train for a professional career in theater, remember that the instrument for your work is you. Never lose sight of who that is and don’t underestimate its importance to your success.