Professional
Life is too complicated for this tenor to keep things straight. I have been meandering through many muddy mental matters trying to work out how to clarify them all, and I am only becoming aware of the futility of my quest as the number of ideas competing for my attention becomes impossibly large. Even this tenor can now see that too much is just too much. I’ve got to put these thoughts in some sort of order, but even ordering them is beyond my ability….. So let’s forget order and try random access to my mind’s thought pool and put a few on the blog.
Wikipedia is one of my favorite catalysts, and I will blame it for today’s bit of clarity. I went there to get an idea of what the “High Minded” thought the words “Professional and Professionalism” mean.
What a fabulous monster I found. I have spent a lifetime using a word that now means the opposite of my understanding.
In my development as a singer, I was always aware of the bits of artistic genius that passed in front of me from my very advantageous position on the stage with some really wonderful singers. The artists from whom I stole the largest number of tools of the singing trade set a high bar for me to jump. I thought of the word “Professionalism” as being printed in large letters right in the middle of that bar. I did my best to organize what Renata Booth taught me and everything I lifted from the best of the professionals around me to bring my work on the stage as close to that (Professionalism) bar as I could, even if I might have failed, in my own eyes, to attain-to it. Click here to see the lowest point I can think of for setting that bar.
Wikipedia has dug a trench for that bar.
“qualified professionals are less creative and diverse in their opinions and habits than non-professionals,”
Modern Professional Creativity
I did a little criticism of this attitude of “mediocre is like so happening” in “Soup and Sandwich” and wish I were able to leave it alone with that single blog, but the cloud of witnesses against my point of view is too dense to let me walk away from the subject. As I kept my eye on Ann Midget after my blog “So Why Should Anyone Belt?”, I ran across her husband, Greg Sandow. I guess he could be labeled a professional consultant, even within the limits of the definition of “Professional” that the professional thinkers and writers at Wikipedia are keen on selling. I subscribed to Greg’s blog, and he recently kicked the hornet nest of thoughts that trouble my tenor brain with the gem:
“Better to aim low, I might think, and plan small, practical steps, and then be surprised when things take off. Better that than to start off expecting big things, and then fall on your face when they don’t happen quickly.”
http://www.artsjournal.com/sandow/2013/10/from-liza-figueroa-kravinsky-you-scratch-my-back.html
Perhaps we could call Greg a professional “inhibition consultant”.
I could live with the above advice if we were talking about a bicycle I may buy for nearly nothing at a garage sale, or walking out my front door intending to burn up a few calories jogging during an ice storm that “Climate Change” is supposed to eliminate for us Rock Eaters of the far North. It is a long way from the philosophy I followed when I first thought to become a “professional singer”, and I believe I shared that “Reach for the stars” attitude with my colleagues who became successful professionals. Just because a few inevitably disappointed individuals shared this “Devil may care” manner of pursuing the profession does not make INHIBITION a better policy for all aspirants to professional status. Especially when the majority of the disappointed from among my generation were actually following Mr. Sandow’s advice and had all the inhibition he might think they needed.
Wikipedia serves well to bring into focus the thinking of the chattering class, and Mr. Sandow’s profession would seem to make him a chattering charter member. His advice for professionals to go “low ball” in their expectations would seem to fit right in with Wikipedia’s “low ball” estimation of the creativity a “Professional” can be expected to possess. Both these opinions fit together very well with Karen Sell’s attitude that interpretation/“artistry” is by nature innate and un-teachable. (See “Soup and Sandwich”). Since professionals are supposed to lose the ability to be creative through the very education process Wikipedia asserts as necessary for attaining to “Professionalism”, and Karen Sell believes creativity is ultimately un-teachable it would seem logical that Mr. Sandow would advise low expectations for any effort a “Professional Artist” may make in “creating” a career. What is education for, anyway?
My last bash at this subject will be to reiterate my opinions contained in my blog “Barcelona and Friends”. The people with whom I collaborated in Barcelona, mostly from Mr. Sandow’s chattering class, seemed to agree with Mr. Sandow’s opinion that a “low aim” is better than a big disappointment. As we gathered to see and hear young people show their desire to be, preparation for and accomplishment of “Professional”, the largest vocal gifts, the biggest and riskiest bets, were eliminated early. The less gifted and more “Professional”, according to Wikipedia and effectively the least impressive, were promoted to the final. Those “Wikipedia Professional” artistic organizers voted their agreement with Mr. Sandow, and guaranteed my ultimate boredom in that magnificent theatre: Liçeu. Those Viñas participants who have the greatest likelihood to attain to my definition of “Professional Singer” were just too “iffy” in the eyes and ears of the supporters of the status quo. I wish those Wikipedia favored youngsters well, but I believe they are part of the problem that troubles even Mr. Sandow. Click here to see the first blog that I was happy to receive from him after I subscribed. There are no coincidences.
Crisis is what it’s about.
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Telephone – Internet – Interview
Just a quick note to let everyone have a link to an article that came out today at www.liricamente.it.
I want to thank Mrs. Gloria Bellini for writing so nicely about me.
Mrs. Bellini and I had fun talking while I was still in my Rome Hotel room. The attached photo is a good example of the fun singers can have, on or off the stage. That’s me in white hair. Guess who is with me?
Read MoreRemembering A Little Nothing
Once upon a time there were two tenors auditioning for a Major Midwest Orchestra. These tenors were not competitors because they did not have similar voices. They were, and still are friendly, in fact able to share a rising star manager whose office had organized the audition in which these two guys were participating.
These tenors, being tenors, were certainly aware of one another. But more than there being another tenor on the scene had little probability of penetrating their concentration on the job at hand. Selling! They were there to sell themselves to the Major Midwest Orchestra. These two were so different in character that the project of selling was like one tenor selling a Rolls Royce and the other tenor selling a Renegade. They will both get the job done, but not the same way.
These tenors were well familiar with the ambiance in which they would make their pitch for a contract at that Major Midwest Orchestra. They had arrived via the normal entrance, back door or stage door, to be nice, on West 65th Street in NYC. One tenor made his way directly to the active center of organization, off stage right, where the chronological audition list was in the hands of the person responsible for shoving all the singers onto the stage one at a time. The other tenor made a quick appearance and quickly departed after he discovered his estimated wait time before his pitch could begin. The tenor still on hand found a chair, almost the only chair available, and sat down in a strategic location. He had an unobstructed view of the piano and of the singer who had been shoved onto the stage of Avery Fisher Hall to audition. Given the fact that the singer auditioning at the time was not a tenor, the seated tenor soon forgot who it was that was making a pitch for a contract…. You know, with that Major Midwest Orchestra. He even forgot which Major Midwest Orchestra was the reason for the audition because he did not get a contract from this Major… sorry. I expect the other tenor, who was diligently warming up his Rolls Royce (RR) voice, has forgotten the entire affair, but the Renegade salesman never forgot.
In the fullness of time the warmed up RR tenor reappeared and proceeded to pace the rather small L shaped hall way that served as waiting area. Auditioning continued on the stage, the seated tenor continued to gather fodder for forgetfulness from the activities in the Hall and the warmed up RR tenor kept legging his way past the seated tenor as he measured the length of that L shaped hall way.
As time began to weigh heavily upon those still waiting, the pacing RR tenor seemed to speed up. Suddenly he stopped in front of the seated tenor and exclaimed: “Rocky, will you stop sitting there like that!? You’re making me nervous.” Yes, I was sitting there, but what I did at that moment I cannot remember. Memory is so selective.
Anyway, time past, singers finished singing, other singers were shepherded onto the stage and finally the RR tenor got his turn. I found myself watching the RR tenor put those very active legs to good use. Out onto the stage he went and he sang gloriously. Then I smiled and understood the challenge.
As often happens, the order of appearance of disparate acts/skits/performance artists can be a tremendous disadvantage to the act that follows. There is sage advice that still floats around in the theatre. Never follow a Kids Act or Animal Act. As soon as the RR tenor approached the end of the aria he was so magnificently singing, I was told to get ready to stand and deliver. When Neil Shicoff finished his aria, he set his sights on the door, stage right where I was waiting for my turn. I wish I could remember if/and/or what I might have said to him as he left the stage, but I do remember that his voice seemed to me to continue to ringing in the theatre as he passed me on his way to the stairway and 65th Street. Onto the stage I went to meet the challenge that Neil had left floating in the auditorium for me to face.
I don’t remember what I sang or how I sang, but I do remember the vision of the two individuals in the center of the auditorium. The one we were singing for and the other one, our agent, Matthew Epstein.
I guess I was heavily influenced by listening to Neil sing his heart out, because when Matthew got hold of me after the audition he asked me: “Why did you sing so loud? You sang louder than Neil!!” I will never forget that audition because of the features so far explained, but I have to say that I never quite believed what Matthew said about my singing that day.
The last and, at the time, most important feature to this story was that no contracts ever came to anyone as a result of these auditions. It turned out that the person I remember seeing seated next to Matthew Epstein in the auditorium had no authority to offer contracts from that Major Midwest Orchestra. We singers turned out to be a free afternoon entertainment. As far as I know that guy who sat with Matthew may never have worked for that Major Midwest Orchestra.
Life is full of satisfactions that cannot be anticipated, and that audition is more valuable to me now for the pleasure it has given me in memory, than anything a contract could have delivered as a consequence of it.
Read MoreMontisi Morning
It’s great to be back in Montisi. Rural life is my favorite, and a quick stop in this little hill top town is just what I need between big town visits.
I just finished a Master Class in Rome exclusive to all but Santa Cecilia students and am on my way to Florence for a similar encounter with young people engaged in educating themselves in the vocal arts. Today marks the first morning of diminished cold virus symptoms that attached me as soon as I hit terra firma this trip. It is such good planning to give oneself
time to acclimate before having to go to work, but this cold gave me fits in Rome notwithstanding the three day recuperation period I built into my schedule. My first day in Europe I dedicated to my pillow. Yes I bring it with me. And it served me well. Sleeping would seem a great battle plan since I was able to meet my commitments in Rome even on the edge of losing my voice to laryngitis. My pillow was my destination when not engaged in my
employment.
Anyway I had every intention of writing new blogs about singing and voice and Rome and and…. Well, let’s just say I wanted to dispel any mistaken impression that I had lost interest in this blog site after putting it on line over a year ago. And here I am enjoying small town Italy in the company of Opera loving friends getting things ready for the Montisi Master Class.
Yesterday Silvia and I had fun working in the little jewel box theatre where the Montisi Class will take place. The piano on loan from Silvia’s friend had to be placed appropriately for the space, and I was there to watch the expert from Siena direct three local strong men as they helped him maneuver the baby grand piano down a set of stairs and into the theatre. After it was well situated in the mini-orchestra space between the front row
seats and the stage, the Montisi muscle men departed as did the expert from Siena, Silvia and I walked her dogs and back we came to do a little sprucing up before the main events of next week.
My symptoms had by yesterday reached a plateau. My voice was hanging by a thread but, at least, my constant enervation had lifted. A retired tenor has no business worrying about his voice, and
I adhere to that policy with great joy. But, to have to push myself forward from lack of energy is something no tenor wants to do. We want to be inspired and full of motivation. Today is a day of inspiration. The sun is up, the weather is perfect and I went out to greet my favorite views from the Montisi mount.
As you can see, spring has sprung on this part of the world and this tenor is happy to enjoy every sight and smell…. Yes, I did pass this little local bakery and was drawn through the front door by the aroma of
yeast and baking bread wafting through the street. I’m now happily consuming my purchase.
This afternoon I’m Florence bound. I hope to have something useful to publish in the next few days, but in the mean time I want to thank everyone for coming to read my blog.
May good health be your constant companion. Sneezing and coughing are no fun at all.
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Merry Christmas 2012
Snow on the ground, lights in the tree, fruit cake soaking up the Bourbon, Champagne on the chill, family to arrive in the morning and only a few gifts left to wrap. That’s what I call a great prelude to Christmas, and God has allowed me to arrive at this very reality. We celebrate Christ Jesus, our Savior Born.
Let’s not get bogged down about the actual point in our time line when Mary gave birth to Jesus. Let’s avoid quibbling about the reality of His Existence. Let’s even evade justifying why we put up such a fuss on 25 December every year. I know why I do, and you are free to find your own reasons.
One of mine is a very small thing in the greater scheme of life and history. Writing a blog, and that blog only being about vocal things, makes my thing shrink even smaller. I am still going to jump up and down… only a few times because of my advanced years. Those few jumps will be for joy that a year has come full circle from the birth of this little blog. One year ago I would not have guessed that my subscribers would be so numerous. Some time ago the large number of update announcements caused my email server to block them all. I never knew about email per hour limits. Now that I do, everyone who signed up, (thanks for doing so) should get a heads up about this Christmas blog. I’ll do one jump, at least, for that.
The year was a great time trip. It was interesting writing, corresponding, teaching and learning. That learning thing keeps me humble and young at heart. No small thing for a tenor. Anyway, I have learned that I have so much to say and so little talent for saying it. I keep learning that fact every time I face my computer screen wanting to put my thoughts in rational order, and, even after coming to some grudging contentment with the results, my wife, Debbie, has the best editing talent for finding weaknesses in my texts. I need her in many ways. Being my net for this high wire act is only a small sample.
The year even had a trip to Europe that I blogged about. Travel is a great education, and I am happy to say that my expectation to learn things was well fulfilled. Those things may not all be positive, but one, that good and possibly great voices are not extinct, was a welcome revelation. That is worth at least one lift of the Champagne glass.
Thanks for following my writing efforts.
I want to be useful. If I can be useful to you, I will call it a blessing. Don’t get me wrong. It would be a blessing for me.
PS. It is now Twenty four hours later than when I started this blog. Six hours have passed since Christmas Day began in Plattsburgh. I got the last gifts wrapped, a lot of the little bit of snow that decorated yesterday morning is gone, items chilling and soaking are still undisturbed and family is still going to arrive…. Unlike me they may be on time. I let Midnight pass without posting this blog which is only explainable. Not excusable. But….
God knows my heart, and knew that I had to get to bed on Christmas Eve and get those gifts wrapped and this blog done early on His Birthday. I fell asleep trying to count my blessings…. I’m afraid I only got through the top of my list. Christ, Debbie, Dot… well I drifted off and can’t remember any of the other visions my dreams brought me. Life is good and everything else hangs on those top three.
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There’s no place like home.
Landing on up country ground again and having a week with my wife, furry kids, flowers and lawn has given my memories from Rome, Romania and Paris a very special patina.
My little Suzy
Teddy
The week of rest was absolutely necessary. Old people know what I’m talking about. Old tenors are no exception. I’m beginning to feel my batteries holding a charge, and I’m up to bringing my mind back to the word processor to get it to spit out some thoughts. They may be a little Jet Lag limp today, but I expect things to get better soon.
I am so encouraged about the state of the human voice. I wish I could say the same about the human mind. Rome and Sibiu were revelations in my exploration of those human attributes. I know my job is the voice, and will stick to that part of the anatomy as much as possible. Every voice I found on my latest quest was worth developing. Each hopeful singer had every material gift necessary to the craft of singing. However, they all sang with the standard technical deficiencies. Many of the singers are seeking work, but the world is not handing them stacks of contracts every time they audition. Is that something new in the world? Shouldn’t everyone expect rejection? I don’t think so. Rejection should be a puzzle to young people. It was to me. (I’m a tenor, right?) No, the committed singer needs to be puzzled by unsuccessful auditions. First, in the realm called the mind, which is “not my job” today, the singer has to get over the disappointment of a fruitless audition on Monday in order to have a positive attitude when planning for what’s next on his calendar, another AUDITION with time and place attached. Getting through these trials is a mind thing that must be addressed, but not by me at least not today. What I want to address is why the singers I met on this trip get the cold shoulder in auditions. They have been sold a bunch of lies.
I’m happy to say that the above accusation: “Liar!!! Liar! Pants on fire!!” is only mostly true. These students, at least, got some truth. They were all told at some point: “You have a voice! You should take voice lessons and make singing the focus of your life!” The lie came when they heard: “Come take lessons with me and I will make you a star.” Or, on the other hand, they may have heard the derivative: “You need to enroll in my University to get ready for a life in music.” The first lie is easy to dispel. No one can make that claim! The full measure of what it takes to attract enough public attention to be able to claim star status is beyond any teacher’s ability to control. Anyone who would claim star maker abilities needs to be avoided, but what are young people to do when they can’t know these things because of their youth? The University track is the same problem wrapped in a prettier package that I already covered in “Factory Made”. If you think I need to say more on that or any other issue, “Please Write”.
The Rome participants cracked my shell of low expectations and hit me with a set of challenges that might be considered individual nightmares by some teachers. They were dream world stuff all right, but they didn’t give me cold sweats. They filled me with energy, caused my days to start with a burst of ideas rushing to my mind directly from Garcia’s writings and made the close of the day an unexpected arrival. It was my first Master Class in which I could honestly raise my glass of mineral water in a toast to the improvements most of these young people made.
Two of these success stories will continue to be written when they come to Plattsburgh next month. These two from Rome who want more truth about how to sing were among the closest to being “Ready for Prime Time”. That’s why Garcia’s success with them was so obvious. The excitement these young people experienced and expressed was fully matched by my own.
My first days in Sibiu set me up for almost the same experience I had in Rome. Great instruments with as many signs of unfortunate instruction as were presented in Rome. Garcia’s teachings worked again and I had a wonderful time watching as these singers absorbed his advice. One of them even took notes… Surprise! It was a tenor. There were some differences between the Rome experience and my Sibiu work. Whereas in Rome those closest to “Prime Time” moved farthest, in Sibiu those farthest from “Prime Time” made the biggest moves. In Sibiu I had no arguments from any of the singers. In Rome there were a few who just couldn’t believe me, and, one by one ceased to attend the classes. Sibiu and Rome were the best master classes I’ve ever had the pleasure to do, and my satisfaction at being able to confirm Garcia’s teachings with the help of these singers is beyond my ability to quantify. I credit the singers who came trusting me to present Garcia’s wisdom to them.
My excitement with these master class experiences has renewed my faith that God is still making wonderful vocal instruments. I joyfully listened to and worked with many more than I expected to find. They are out there. If these young singers want to learn the best way to use their voices, they need the teachings of Garcia. I come home with a renewed commitment to waving his banner.
I left Europe with an invitation to help create a special kind of Master Class in Montisi.
Morning in Montisi
That project is still in the idea phase, but I have high hopes that my friends there will be successful. My week of home rest had not completed before I received an invitation to return to teach another Master Class in Rome. I hope I can go back this coming February/March.
Accademia Musicale Praeneste, Roma
Going out to glorious vocal discoveries in Europe and coming back to our secret corner of beauty gives me an unreal feeling that all I did was switch dreams. 
I feel like Dorothy took my hand and clicked her ruby slipper heels together, and there I was confronting gorgeous voices dressed in unfortunate costumes. I reached into my bag of Garcia magic, handed out some new clothes and great things happened. Then Dorothy came back and grabbed my hand, did her clicks and here I am again surrounded by Technicolor Treasures. I know the two realities are not dreams, because I had the “Hurricane” of travel that separated Home from Garcia Wonderland. It is also truly real to me because a few of the people in possession of those voices in Europe still talk to me, and here I am, home again, using Garcia’s teachings to help my students who had to wait for Dorothy to bring me back to the wonders of Technicolor.
Do you have a voice and feel like joining me next year in Italy to explore the teachings of Garcia? “Please Write”
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