Wolf Trap Opera

I often refer to the “standard” audition repertoire as having a useful analogy in gymnastics compulsories. There’s a checklist of things that the panel needs to know that you can nail, and the most efficient way to do that is to attack the warhorses. Yes, I know everyone sings them. And because of that, you have to work harder to distinguish yourself from the pack. And they’re so hallowed that you can’t possibly sing them as well as the generations of phenomenal artists we’ve heard on recordings. Still, they are the best way for us to get a glimpse into your basic command of the craft and the depth of your musicality.

More on the athletic analogy: Think of it this way. Each aria has its profile – lowest notes, highest notes, difficult phrases, linguistic challenges, important articulations and dynamics – the singer must dispatch all of those “compulsory” requirements and make music at the same time. Just like the best floor routines aren’t just a checklist of tools, but examples of how to impose your own artistic stamp on standard territory.

But we are always happy to have the chance to hear something different, and we love to see artists immersing themselves in new and different music. We don’t always have the time to hear these rare gems, given the exigencies of the audition tour schedule, but sometimes just seeing something uncommon on the list makes me smile. Occasionally we’ll get to hear a bit of it. Its presence is an indication of a healthy artistic curiosity.

So yet again, it’s all about proportion.

Let’s assume you’re shooting for your optimal 5-aria package. Allow one of these to be quirky – maybe 2oth/21st-century music, maybe a rare aria in an historic idiom. (Just be sure the accompaniment isn’t impossible to play – and if it is moderately difficult to play, be sure that you can sing the spots off it even if the pianist struggles.)

The remaining 4 arias are probably going to have to be dedicated to fulfilling requirements. We need to know that you can sing in Italian and at least one other language, that your voice is capable of both lyricism and agility (on a sliding scale, as appropriate for your Fach), and that your characterizations aren’t all monochromatic. (No, I’m not really asking you to be all things to all people, just to show enough differentiation that I don’t get bored in 10 minutes.)

So go ahead and stretch your artistic boundaries a little. Try to make the offbeat arias short ones, so they have a fighting chance to ever be heard. And revel in the chance to make them truly yours, in a way that’s intimidatingly difficult to do with Caro nome.

Getting down to some brass tacks this week. The outline:

• Monday – Depth vs. breadth
• Tuesday – Standards vs. fresh fare
• Wednesday – Cuts and alternate versions
• Thursday – Stretching
• Expert Friday – Don Marrazzo, Glimmerglass Opera; & Joshua Winograde, LA Opera

So…

Jack of all Trades? Master of One?

Depending on when you ask me to address the issue of versatility vs. specialty / breadth vs. depth, I’ll give you a slightly different answer. If I’ve just been treated to a series of superficial and glib performances by artists who know a little bit about everything and really not much about any one thing, I’ll rail against spreading oneself too thin. If I’ve spent time with a young singer who refuses to show any interest in anything except the one genre/composer that speaks most easily to him, then I’ll go on and on about how important it is to immerse oneself in all of opera history and styles.

Here’s the good news: American singers are the best-trained, most versatile singing actors out there. Having wide-ranging interests and a smattering of training in a broad range of styles is a wonderful thing. You avoid the trap of specializing too soon, possibly before you have a chance to discover your unique strengths. And to an extent, everything you learn – no matter how far afield from your core knowledge – has the potential to make you a more vivid performer and a more interesting artist. This acquisitive spirit is the essence of liberal arts education, and it has its place in the development of a performing artist.

But, at the age of 25 or so, when you hope to move beyond the classroom, can you really be good at everything the YAP industry expects you to demonstrate? Italian, French, German & English at a minimum. Maybe Russian, Czech or Spanish, too. Baroque improvisation, Mozartean elegance, bel canto fireworks, lush Romantic lyricism, and contemporary 20th- and 21st-century musicality and stagecraft. And on and on.

We on the other side of the table demand versatility. The specific requirements vary across different companies, but we invariably ask for multiple languages and styles. And face it, you’re going to be better at some of it than the rest. So let’s think about it critically and do some triage.

In my brief stint in the mental health field, we would think in triage terms on a daily basis. It seems cold and clinical, and it probably is. (It’s of medical origin, and Wikipedia tells it pretty straight if you’re interested in learning more. Not strictly necessary, so feel free not to link.) Triage helps any time you have to face what seems to be an overwhelming task.

Divide what’s in front of you into 3 categories:

• 1) Your undeniable strengths. What speaks to you. What you’re intrinsically good at. The music that will continue to grow and improve because the pursuit of it is intrinsically rewarding. This is probably where your bread and butter will lie once you get past the point in your development where you have to be all things to all people.
• 2) The challenges within reach. A step removed from #1, these roles and styles will form the periphery of your career. If you open yourself up and work honestly, this music can become a part of you. But it won’t be as comfortable as the first category, and it will take longer to find a level of familiarity. You ignore it at your peril, though, for stretching in this way keeps you sharp, and it just may give you enough diversity to make a living.
• 3) Music that makes no sense at all to you. Don’t bother. Really. For every singer there is a subset of the repertoire that is a bad fit. There is no shame in this.

Now, the dangers of this approach are not insignificant. This exercise is not static, nor is it ever really over. You will grow and change, and these three lists should be allowed to fluctuate. Something that makes absolutely no sense to you right now may smack you upside the face in amazing clarity in two years, and you should be open to it when it does.

What’s important is that at almost any point in time, you should have a decent instinct for which music lies at which point in this spectrum. At this moment. Then craft your aria list accordingly.