AmyCSings

Say “Ah”!

2012-01-12T12:23:00.000-08:00

Functional listening is the cornerstone of the techniquethat I teach, taught to me by the late, great Cornelius Reid. This is the storyof my introduction to both the maestro himself and the concept and transformativepower on the singing voice of functional listening.

In March of 1998, my wonderful, beloved graduate school voiceteacher, Julian Patrick, invited his teacher (yes, the 70 year old,Metropolitan opera singer still had a voice teacher), CorneliusL. Reid, to give a series of master classes for the University of Washington.We were all very excited and nervous to meet and work with this legend in thevoice teaching world. I had read his book, “Psyche and Soma,” for one of mydoctoral topics and it rocked my world with its insights. The thought ofsinging for him was a tad terrifying but exhilarating as well.

Now, a master class can take many forms, but for Cornelius, itmeant giving a “private” half hour voice lesson IN PUBLIC! If you think havinga voice lesson with a new teacher can be stressful, you should try doing it infront of an audience. Talk about standing naked, baring all, vulnerable and exposedfor all to hear. And with Cornelius, there was no way to artfully cover up yourvocal flaws; he found them like a heat-seeking missile. When it came my turn, Istarted like he almost always started a lesson, with a descending arpeggio on “ah”,as in “father” or “bravo”. And immediately he began to critique my “ah” vowel. “No,that is not a pure vowel.” “No, try again. Listen.” “Do you hear that it ismore of an “uh”…or “aw”…” And on and on. We did do other things besides “ah”but that is what I remembered most at the time, as well as to this day.

(I must put in at this point that in that half hour, Mr.Reid had me singing better than I had ever sung in my entire 25 years of lifeand even my fellow singers/audience members, notorious for not being at allsupportive of one another, competition being the overriding emotion for most ofmy colleagues at the time, commented upon it. Of course, this was the week thatchanged my life forever since by that September I had moved to New York City tostudy with this vocal guru. But that part of the story is a post for anotherday.)

For the rest of the day, I could not get the idea of abetter, purer “ah” vowel out of my mind. It is fair to say that for the firsttime in my vocal life, I was obsessed with a technical issue. I thought aboutit walking down the street, watching TV, eating dinner, even while brushing myteeth. Didn’t I sing an “ah”? I’ve been singing forever and been taking voicelessons for almost that long. How is that I wasn’t aware of this? Ah. Ah? Aw? Uh?Ah!

The next day, the master class sessions resumed, and I onceagain took my place in the crook of the piano. We once again started with thedescending arpeggio on the now infamous “ah”. After about two or three scales,he stopped me and said, “You’ve been thinking about this vowel, haven’t you?” Iwas stunned. HOW DID HE KNOW? Was he psychic? I looked at him incredulously. And since, as Icame to discover in the coming decade studying with him, he was sort of psychic in a way, certainly highlyintuitive, he said, “I know you have because your “ah” vowel is infinitelybetter than yesterday. Just by thinking about it, by being AWARE of what isactually coming out of your mouth, it got better.”

EPIPHANY #1 of so many to come working with this brilliantman.

It was so simple and yet so hard, and ultimately so profoundand empowering an action/concept: functional listening. In my quest for a bettervoice, I, like so many others, had clung to the convoluted, mysterious aspectsof singing; often used as an excuse for not improving. And yet the straightforward,seemingly obvious path was right there the entire time: awareness of the soundsI was producing. What DO they sound like? Yes, you CAN hear yourself to a highdegree of accuracy. And yes, it takes time to develop your ear in this way, butit is completely possible. It will change your life as it has changed mine.

I had always been under the false assumption that my teachershad all the knowledge on how to make my voice better and I had none, and wasnot allowed to have their knowledge until I proved myself somehow. No one,until this moment, had truly empowered me with the tools to troubleshoot, diagnoseand fix my vocal issues on my own. Ofcourse, outside guidance by a trusted, skilled (hopefully compassionate) professionalis always necessary, incredibly valuable and important. But think about it, weare without our teachers more often than we are with them. We are the ones whohave to stand on stage and sing, not our teachers. And what if something goeswrong then? Look longingly into the wings, hoping they will be standing thereholding large flashcards with guidance? If we are listening functionally andarmed with the vocal tools to solve issues that might arise, we will (almost) alwaysknow what to do in a crisis. If I teach my students nothing else, my greatestdesire is to give them this knowledge and these tools. I never want anyone tobe as in the dark about their voice as I was for far too long.

I am happy to report that I continued to improve and refine my“ah” vowel (and everything else) over the decade I spent under Cornelius' experttutelage. I learned to truly hear my voice in ways I could never have dreamedof previously. However, at my very last voice lesson with the maestro before hepassed away, he still was tweaking my “ah” vowel to achieve its ultimateexpression of perfection… AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

It's Christmas time in the city

2011-12-23T16:31:00.000-08:00

Christmas time presents me with the perfect opportunity to writea love letter to New York City. As mentioned previously, I have not reallymissed living there…until this month. As my thoughts turn to December 25^thand all its accoutrements, I am suddenly incredibly homesick for my formerhome. I am very much missing all the joyous sights and sounds of NYC during theholidays. The city really knows how to celebrate this time of year and the bestpart is that so much of what is wonderful about it is free! All you need is awarm coat and comfortable shoes (gloves, scarf, and a cup of hot chocolate arealso advised) to experience the magic.

First event, the 5^th Avenue stroll. My boyfriendand I made it an annual Christmas tradition to walk up the storied avenue onenight in December starting at Bryant Park on 42^nd Street, pausing inthe middle to ogle the Rockefeller Christmas tree, that justly famous fir, and endingat The Plaza Hotel on Central Park South: 17 blocks of twinkling lights ofevery hue, glittering trees, bedecked wreaths, beribboned garlands, sparklingornaments, shining stars, whimsical department store windows and Christmascarols wafting through the air. (There are also a zillion tourists and maddeningcrowds of shoppers but I promised myself this would be the positive side ofNYC, so enough said. And actually, the crowds are mostly festive too. It’s hardto be a grumpy New Yorker in the face of such Christmas merriment. Like all thesongs say, there really is something special in the air this time of year inthe city.)

But my very favorite event of the Christmas season in NewYork City is the Holiday Train Show at the New York Botanical Garden in theBronx. It is not free but worth every penny! It is the perfect festive holidayouting. An artisan from Kentucky creates scale models of every famous New YorkCity landmark and historical building out of natural materials (leaves, bark,berries, nuts, stones, etc…) which are placed among the plants (in the gorgeouscrystal palace of a conservatory/greenhouse built in 1902), with toy trainsrunning alongside and twinkling lights everywhere. It is a magical experience.It is a must-see for kids from 1-92.

And then there is the eggnog. Yes, you read that correctly.I miss New York eggnog made by Ronnybrook Farms! Ronnybrook is a small family-ownedfarm about 2 hours from the city that produces only high quality dairyproducts. And this, in my opinion is their crown jewel. It is the definitiveeggnog, the gold standard. Creamy, fragrant Christmas deliciousness in a glass.

I do confess that even though I always enjoyed seeing the city’s Christmas sights prior to meetingmy love, the rush and crush of the crowds usually made me into a Scrooge. Ilooked more forward to leaving the city for calmer climes than relishing the city’sholiday offerings. However, sharing Christmas time in the city with my love allowed me tosee the city’s wonders again and in some ways for the first time.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight.

The Other Side of the Table

2011-12-07T12:40:00.001-08:00

Auditioning isprobably one of the most stressful things anyone can put themselves through. The scheme of stressful events should be amendedto death, taxes, moving…and auditioning! Besides wanting to perform well, your onlyother desire is to be able to read the minds of the auditioners. Whatare they thinking? She’s smiling- does she like me? Or am I so bad thatshe is laughing on the inside? He’s nodding- does he realize that I am the perfectperson for this part or is he nodding off? What are they writing? Hire her? Shesucks? Their grocery list for tonight’s dinner? Wait, he’s whispering in herear and pointing at my resume- don’t look at that! I’m much better than myresume says I am. If only I had gotten more sleep last night, if only I hadgone with that other song, if only I had practiced more, if only…

And then yourminute is over and you leave the room. And then the torture really begins. WillI get a call back? Did the high note sound alright? I think it did. But maybenot. They seemed pleased with me, but then again, that guy on the end neverlooked up. The director laughed at my monologue- that’s a good sign, right? Butmaybe she was laughing because it was so bad. Oh, I don’t care anyway; I don’teven like this show. Who am I kidding, of course I want this part! I really want this part. PLEASE let me getthis part…

And on and onuntil your head explodes or you get so busy with the rest of your life you eventuallyforget about it. Or not.

I experienced somevariation of the above scenario for years. Well, actually I just experienced itwhen I auditioned for The Wizard of Oz.The difference is that now I do have an inkling of what those people on theother side of the table are thinking because I have been one of them! And oh,what a revelation it is to be there. I got my first chance to be an auditioner in2008 when I was a visiting professor at Ball State University and part of my jobwas to help choose the new Musical Theatre majors for the following year. And whata fascinating, valuable experience it was. Based on what I learned there, sittingin judgment, I believe every performer should have a chance early on in theirauditioning lives to experience auditions from the auditioners point of viewand listen in on the decision making process.

You learn thatit really is not personal. We (generally) don’t know you. BUT we actually do want you to dowell. We really are routing for you to be amazing, to be “the one”! We need tohire someone and it might as well be you! My very first director, the wonderfuland beloved Rhoda Klitsner, first imparted this pearl of wisdom to me when Iwas a teenager, but I am afraid I didn’t quite believe her. When you are sonervous and the panel of judges staring at you looks so forbidding (or bored),you just can’t fathom that you aren’t facing the Inquisition instead of awelcoming committee. But it is true, mostly (please see my previous post onauditioning in NYC for the exceptions).

And if you don’tget the part, it actually may not be that we didn’t like you. You might havebeen awesome, but too young, or your voice didn’t work with the person we hadto hire to play opposite you. And I’ll admit there are other, less flatteringreasons, like politics and favoritism and the like, but that’s life. And it isstill not personal.

Experiencing anaudition from the other side of the table also teaches you:

1. What you wear affects the impression youmake. (Dressing sloppily and/or too casually suggests how little you care aboutthe audition even if that is not the case. Dress for the part you want. This istrue in the rest of life as well.)

2. How you treat the accompanist says a lotabout you as a person. (Be polite!)

3. How prepared you are tells us how muchyou care about performing.

4. What you sing tells us how well you knowyour voice and its abilities, even sometimes how smart and thoughtful you are.

5. Your general demeanor speaks volumes, ie:how you carry yourself physically, how you announce yourself and yourrepertoire, how you enter and exit the room.

6. No detail is too small to go unnoticed.

Knowing all ofthis doesn’t really make auditioning any easier but it can make it a littlemore fun and certainly less mystifying. I try to remember all of this when Iaudition to keep me on a somewhat more even keel. And this weekend, as I sitbehind the table in my role as vocal director for Pentacle Theatre’s “25^thAnnual Putnam County Spelling Bee” auditions, I will try to remember how hard it is forthe people brave enough to stand in front of me, putting it all out there,hoping for the best! Break a leg, everyone!

Photo Card

2011-12-01T10:59:00.001-08:00

Flourished Frames Christmas

Customize your Christmas cards this year at Shutterfly.com.

View the entire collection of cards.

The Most Wonderful (Musical) Time of the Year

2011-11-30T20:12:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow is December 1^st which means that my family and I may now commence listening to and singing Christmas carols. I imposed this December 1^st rule, or seen another way, the ban on Christmas music prior to December, many, many years ago when I actually burned out on Christmas music. How did such a terrible thing happen, you may ask? Well, I'll tell you.

It all beganwhen I was in the San Francisco Girls Chorus and we started learning ourChristmas concert music in August, at camp,if you can believe it. Yes, in the middle of the California pines, dry, goldenhills, 100 degree heat, and log cabins, we began to learn our Christmas repertoire. We learnedit so early because it was often very difficult music, in multiple languages,with multiple verses and there was so much of it that if we didn’t start early,it would never have gotten learned, memorized, and polished to perfection if put off until, say, September. Westarted our Christmas concert season in late November and ended a few daysbefore Christmas with our huge Christmas caroling extravaganza at Davies SymphonyHall in San Francisco. I had always loved Christmas music prior to my tenurewith the SFGC, but the rigors of the Chorus and our evil maniacal director (definitelya post for another time!) tested my adoration for the entire Christmas carolgenre. I never anticipated that “Stille Nacht” would strike such terror in my youngteenage heart. (Come to think of it, “Silent Night” in either its German orEnglish versions should only ever yield loving, peaceful feelings, don’t yathink?)

And then came my sophomore year of high schoolwhen I was in both the Girls Chorus and my high school chamber choir, which ofcourse had its share of holiday concerts to do as well. In 1985, I sang in at least one Christmas concert every single day between the day after Thanksgivingand three days before Christmas. When it was all over, silver and gold were myleast favorite colors, there was nothing jolly about holly, and this angelneeded to rest her voice!

By the end of college,I knew practically every carol and Christmas song known to man; every verse, inevery language, every arrangement, every descant, every harmony, and almostevery part from soprano to tenor! (Strangely, the one carol I always wanted tosing, “Carol of the Bells”, I never sang!) And I did love singing the Christmasmusic, performing in the concerts, the caroling, the Renaissance madrigaldinners… I loved discovering a new classic carol, a new 1940s tune by BingCrosby, learning yet arrangement of Jingle Bells. (“Jingle Bells in 7/8 time”is one of my particular favorites.) The repertoire made me happy all by itself and sharing it with others made me even happier.

But then Istarted to grow weary of it; burned out from the arduous rehearsals, the demandson my voice and memory, the exhortations to look cheerful. I started to losethe joy that should always come with singing Christmas music. Even my favoriterecordings stopped thrilling me like they used to. And I knew this was aproblem because I did love it and I needed to find a way to preserve myexcitement for the genre. And thus the Cheifetz rule was born. This way,limited to just a few weeks, the music I loved became special again. Now, I eagerlylook forward to December, pulling out my CDs, dusting off the sheet music,awaiting the day when Christmas carols can burst forth with their beautiful sounds and joyous words!

And I am sohappy to report that after far too long a time, I am going to sing in a Christmas concert at a retirement home here in Salem in a few weeks! I’ve startedchoosing my repertoire and it’s hard to decide what NOT to include, it isall so wonderful! Joy to the World!

“We gather together to ask the Lord's blessing; he chastens and hastens his will to make known…”

2011-11-22T20:57:00.001-08:00

When I was younger, Thanksgiving was nice but not particularly exciting in my eyes. Ialways enjoyed watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, eating my mom’sdelicious food, and of course having a few days off. But that was about it. Butthe older I got, the more important Thanksgiving became. I was suddenly acutelyaware in my early twenties what the holiday really meant: a day to be grateful.Celebrating together with my family and friends and counting our blessings was justso very important and beautiful.

So when stress andfear and anger were threatening to overwhelm me last week, the impending lastThursday in November pulled me up short. Besides the menu planning, shoppingand cleaning that needed doing, the meaning of Thanksgiving needed my immediateattention and intention. I shut out the clamorof my stress, put the brakes on the speed of my anxiety and I sat quietly inthe stillness of my beautiful home, surrounded by the two people I love most inthis world and counted my blessings. I took deep breaths and breathed in howthankful I am for my life.

Since this blogis supposed to be about singing, it is appropriate that I say a few words abouthow thankful I am to be singing and performing again. It is a tonic for my soulto make music with my fellow humans again. Rehearsals are a welcome, badly neededworkout for my voice, body, psyche and spirit. Thank you to friends old and newfor your encouragement and support in getting me back to what I love. I can’tbegin to tell you how grateful I am.

New York...when civilization falls apart, remember, we were way ahead of you. -David Letterman

2011-11-12T17:43:00.001-08:00

“Do you miss New York?” is a question I get asked on aregular basis these days. Some people look at me with great pity that I am nolonger there; others look incredulous that I ever lived there in the firstplace. Do I miss New York City? No. Yes. Depends on the day, really. Today Ifeel compelled to elaborate on the answer “no”.

I do not miss the constant defensive posture you inevitablyadopt to live there and just get around on a daily basis. I do not miss the suppressedanimosity just behind the surface of almost everyone, in the street, on the subway,in line at a store... the attitude that everyone is the center of the universeand you are the nobody who is in their way. I do not miss the total anonymity, thenever meeting anyone’s eyes, the constant engarde. I do not miss the unceasing racket that no matter how high up youare reaches you. (Even on the 25^th floor of the Waldorf-Astoria youstill hear the sirens and the honks.) I do not miss the feeling in many shopsand restaurants that you just don’t belong there because you don’t have theright clothes, enough cash, or ‘coolness factor’. I don’t miss the $20hamburgers and $5 bottled waters and the rents that require more than 50% ofyour salary. I don’t miss the whippingwind and rain through the artificial canyons the tall buildings create thatdestroys your new umbrella 5 minutes after you purchase it. I don’t miss the unrelentingpace set permanently on high.

And the funny thing about all of the above is that I didn’trealize that it bothered me so much or how it was affecting my psyche. (I always hated the untimely demise ofumbrella after umbrella.) I lived there just over 12 years and enjoyed much ofmy time there- most of my time there. I won’t say all because that would be disingenuous.It is a hard place to live at the best of times even with all the money in theworld (not that I would know about that). Even the rose-colored haze that camewith falling deeply in love didn’t hide all the city’s flaws. But the noise andhigh octane pace- it actually gave me a great feeling of energy, action, get upand go excitement. The staccato, vivace rhythm and even the never-ending clamorinvigorated me a good deal of the time. I developed a New York City walk tokeep up, to sometimes even out-distance. It gave me a (false) sense of strengthand importance at crucial times. The noise became a pleasant background chatterthat kept me company when I was feeling lonely. (Except for the jackhammers. Thereis always a jackhammer yammering away when you are longing for QUIET!) I eventhought I liked the anonymity. No one remembers you at a store or restaurant soit doesn’t matter if you buy something embarrassing or have to go back a thirdtime when you forgot yet another item. The 8 million people zooming by you justdon’t care that you are having a bad hair day-they aren’t paying you or yourhair one whit of attention. And yet…

Now, here in the relative calm of Salem, I don’t miss what Ithought I didn’t mind, liked, even. I love going out of my front door eachmorning to get the newspaper and breathe in the wonderful clean, earthy smells,see the beautiful foliage and changing sky, and hear the birds, the wind in thetrees, the occasional car going up the street. I feel calmer after this ritual evenwhen I’m feeling totally stressed out. I feel more connected to the naturalworld, more with the world ratherthan against it. I didn’t even know I felt so disconnected. Afriend who grew up on a farm visited me in the city once and he thought it was anamazing place but said there was just not enough nature for him (no place forcows). And I remember that I replied that Central Park was enough nature forme. Apparently not anymore, I am discovering. All that concrete was wearing outboth my soles and soul. And human connection is what I had been missing aswell. Don’t get me wrong, I had wonderful friends, wonderful students and of course my beloved Kenneth, but that’s not what I mean. The anonymity that I hadonce so enjoyed- to never be remembered, to hardly ever be acknowledged as aperson- had been eating away at my psyche. And again, I didn’t realize it untilI experienced the opposite: Ken and I ate at the samesushi restaurant in our old neighborhood at least twice a month. We were always waited upon by thesame one or two servers and we more often than not ordered similar menu items. Notonce were we ever recognized or did the servers ever acknowledge that theyremembered us. We were strangers even after the tenth time dining there. (The restaurant did have the most incredible view of the city but that would fallunder what I do miss about myformer home which is a topic for another day.) We now go to our new neighborhoodsushi place (yea, Fuji Ricetime!) with about the same frequency and on our thirdvisit the waitress greeted us warmly and remembered what we wanted to drink. Ihad not realized how important and valuable this human interaction, connectionand recognition is to me. You do have pleasant, human interactions withstrangers in New York City but in my experience they are few and far between.We’re all in too much of a hurry, too wary, too too. And we have to be becauseif you slow down too much or in the wrong place, you’ll get run right over,literally and figuratively.

So for now I will savor the soft gentle sounds of rain on mywindow, the shush of the leaves in the trees, and watch “When Harry Met Sally…”.For now, that is all the NYC I need.

One size does NOT fit all

2011-11-01T15:48:00.000-07:00

One more post about repertoire:

One of my favorite things to do is find repertoire, both forme and for my students, for anyone, really. It can be a wonderful treasurehunt. You never know where it will lead you or what you will find! I think Ilike the search as much as I like to work on the resulting gems. As excitingand interesting as it can be, the search can also be frustrating and dispiriting.It helps if you can leisurely discover what is out there. It loses its fun, andin fact can be incredibly stressful, to have a looming deadline.

There are so many ways to approach your search. My favorite pathto start down is listening to one of my favorite singer’s recordings. This is especiallygood if your favorite singer and you have similar voices. This avenue can alsointroduce you to new composers and shows which in turn might acquaint you witha new performer who could become a new favorite. And while we are on thesubject of performers, if there is a particular performer that you think yousound like/look like/act like, looking up what other roles they have played andrepertoire they have sung is a great way to find songs that might be a good fit. This in turn will make you aware of other composers and shows which in turn...you get the idea.

One thing I try to remember and always tell my students whenon the repertoire hunt: the process of finding great repertoire is likeshopping for a great outfit to wear. Yes, a song is like a good piece ofclothing; one size does not fit all. The question is: what “fits”? Scenario: you walk into Macy’s to buy clothes. There isno question that more than one item of clothing will fit you somewhere in thestore. But do you buy everything that fits? No, because not everything isexactly right. It might just be a tad too long or too short, the color isslightly off, the neckline not perfectly flattering, the fabric not exactlywhat you feel comfortable in; it just isn’t “it”. Or when you look in themirror, in that outfit you see your mother or grandmother (or father orgrandfather for that matter!) staring back at you! Horrors! Or you try on something that suddenly makesyou see a whole new side of yourself- sexy, powerful, silly, whatever… Likeyour favorite go-to outfit that you love to wear, that will make any daybetter, the right song should make you feel excited to sing it; it is so “you”it is as if the song sings itself. Warning: usually you will start to refer to thissong as “yours” and guard it zealously. You can't imagine anyone but you singing this piece. Be sure to hide this slightly irrational personality trait. For some reason, it can be misunderstood... (Reason #457 why singers are CRAZY.)

It may be hard at times to find the perfect fit in a song,but it is worth the search. When you sing a song that you love that also suitsyour voice, personality and temperament, singing is even a greater pleasurethan it is normally.

Channeling Billie Burke

2011-10-27T20:34:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled to report that after far too long a time, I amgoing to be back performing on the stage! I found out last night that I havebeen cast as the Good Witch of the North in Pentacle Theatre’s production of The Wizard of Oz. It will be the firstweekend of January 2012. I am very excited. I miss performing like I would missa limb and the prospect of doing it again makes me sort of giddy and giggly.

I was terribly nervous to audition last week- ridiculouslyso considering my advanced age and supposed level of experience. I guess itgoes to show that you never really get over the nerves. It is one level of stressto perform; it is a totally different level of anxiety to audition. Auditioningmeans putting yourself out there, opening yourself up to criticism, judgment, theunknown; in a word, being vulnerable.Will they like me? Am I good enough? And in my case, “Can I still do this? Do Iremember how to sing, act, connect?” You try to tell yourself it’s not ME thatthey are judging, it’s my voice, but come on, who are we kidding? It is you that they are judging. Oursinging, our voice IS us. It is practically impossible to untangle the two. Andfrankly, I’m not sure we should anyway. Our voice is us with all of our beauty,flaws, and individuality.

I searched my brain and truly cannot remember the last timeI auditioned- must have been at least 5 or 6 years ago…probably some dishearteningoperatic audition that I never heard back from… Which leads me to sincerely thankPentacle Theatre and the Oz production staff. The audition process waspractically painless if you can imagine such a thing. Everyone was friendly andlow-key but also professional. I felt like they were actually paying attention toeach person auditioning. What a concept! How many times have I auditioned whenthe auditioner never even looked up! When they were so eager to leave for lunchthat they left the room before I did! (true story) And unless you get the part,forget about actually hearing back from them. Demoralizing and dehumanizing. Itdoesn’t take that much to treat each singer in front of you as a human withfeelings. This does not mean you have to hire everyone or tell everyone howgreat they are. But the least you can do is acknowledge that they are probably nervous and worked hard tobe standing in front of you. And actually listen to them. Watch them. Have some simple courtesy for your fellow human. But,back to my original point before my mini-rant, this experience was lovely. Eventhe callbacks were as relaxed and positive as could be- they even clapped wheneach person finished. You felt human and valued. And they got back to you whenthey said they would! Remarkable.

And happily, I got the part! I’m glad to know all thoseyears watching The Wizard of Oz paidoff. Thank you Billie Burke! You wereright there with me, whispering inspiration into my ear with your sweet, trillyvoice. “Are you a good witch or a badwitch? Which?” I am honored to follow in your footsteps. The big question is: do I get to wear the fabulous glittery ballgown complete with wings?! Please, please, please…

"He chooses them as he chews them"*

2011-10-21T15:13:00.000-07:00

So, how does one choose the right repertoire?

1. You do NOT get points for trying, meaning: Always choosea song completely within your ability level. It will not show you off to your best advantage if you attempt to singsomething that is too hard for you. This does not mean that you can’t give yourselfa challenge. But there are doable, achievable challenges and then there are just plain dumbrisks to take at your own peril. My motto is quality over quantity. A beautifully sung “easy” song is far betterthan a badly sung “hard” one. I know how tempting it is, I do, first hand. AndI can tell you, it hardly ever ends well. Believe me, I know.

Keep in mind, unless the piece you are auditioning for requires it, not everyaudition song has to show how high you can sing and/or belt. (FYI: shouting isNOT belting.)

2. When auditioning for a specific show, choose a piece in the styleand from the general era of the show. Unless they specifically ask for it, you should never sing a song from the show that youare auditioning for. Since mostcomposers have multiple shows and songs to choose from, you can always find asimilar song. But the same composer is not always necessary. But do get the eraright. Don’t sing something from Oklahoma!for Rent or something from Wicked for Annie Get Your Gun.

3. Consider the general mood of the show and the specificcharacter(s) you are interested in playing. If you want to be theingénue, don’t sing “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” (don’t sing that anyway…unlessyou’re at least 45!). If you want to be the villain, perhaps “Younger thanSpringtime” is not the perfect choice. If the show is generally fun and comic, probably an uptemposong is your best bet. Singing a “Debbie Downer” song will not help theauditioner imagine you in the show. Conversely, if you are auditioning for,say, Next to Normal, perhaps youshould strongly consider a serious contemporary ballad.

*However, if you are also required to do a monologue, youmight consider having the song and monologue being contrasting in feel/tempo.

My final caveat: if you don’t have enough time to prepare “theperfect song” for a specific audition, sing what you sing best and let thechips fall where they may. (Unless it’s totally wrong…ie: if all you have is rock/pop,perhaps My Fair Lady is not your thingor, if you’re like me and attempting to sing something pop/rock is likespeaking Chinese, I would recommend bypassing anything by Jonathan Larson.) It’sgreat when everything lines up just so, but let’s face it, sometimes we have togo with what we have ready and hope for the best. Besides, good singing is goodsinging. To me, being prepared, polished and comfortable with your material isbetter than throwing something together at the last moment. Not only will youdo better in general, you aren’t likely to be quite as nervous.

* Thank you Singing in the Rain

The Right Rep, Part 2

2011-10-12T16:50:00.000-07:00

The subject of selectingrepertoire resurfaced in September after I judged the Youth Division (10-17 yr.olds) at the Oregon State Fair talent competition. There were two basicproblems with 99% of the singers’ song choices:

1. They almost all sang inappropriate repertoire for theiryouthful ages

2. The difficulty level of their songs was generally just beyondtheir abilities.

The other 1%, well, thatyoung lady won the competition. Not only did shehave a solid belt, a strong stage presence and personality, she was successfulbecause her song was age appropriate and totally within her abilities. Shelooked comfortable singing every note and understood what she was singingabout. This familiarity and ease freed her to focus on the performance; she hadfun and therefore so did her audience. Every other singer, mostly young womenaround 14-15 years old, sang about how their man ‘done them wrong’, how ‘thereain’t no good men left,’ etc... Um, no. I didn’t buy it. They were juststrutting around the stage pretending to be at least 10 years older than theywere, awkwardly imitating their favorite adult singers. Just alittle more research and thought and most of these young singers would havebeen far more successful and competitive. Especially for Musical Theatre, but Iwould argue in every genre, age appropriateness is so important. There is somuch repertoire out there to choose from, for every age, voice type,personality, ability and style. All it takes is some research, time andthought.

And frankly worse in mymind than inappropriate subject matter, there was always at least one note ormusical phrase that took these young people beyond their vocal limits. Thiscaused them to resort to basically shouting which in turn caused them to singout of tune. Oh the strained necks and contorted faces, the notes that didn’tquite reach their mark or pushed horribly sharp. (Not to mention that few ofthem knew how to use a microphone effectively which is a totally separateproblem and skill set!) The minute they started to strain, push and go out oftune, they irrevocably tainted the rest of their otherwise good performance.Especially in pop music and especially with today’s technology, you shouldalways have your music transposed into a comfortable key. It makes all thedifference and it’s thankfully not like classical music- no one cares that it’snot in the original key! It’s whatever works for you, whatever sounds best thatmatters. (Oh how I wish that were true for classical music…oh to be allowed to singGlitter and Be Gay down a half-step!)

Case in point: there wasone young man who had the beginnings of a great young tenor voice, a wonderfulstage presence and engaging stage personality. When he started to sing, I wasready to give him top marks. And then the song started to go way too high andhe struggled for more than half the song to hit the high notes. Furthermore, hewas no more than 12 and singing about how he wanted his ‘baby to come back.’ Hemugged his way through the piece but it had a false ring to it and his vocalfatigue took its toll on his natural charm and abilities. He would have beendelightful (and infinitely more successful) had he sung something from Aladdin or Oliver,or even, forgive me, High School Musical. But no matter what,certainly not as vocally challenging. (If he just had to dothe song he did, at least transpose it down a few steps!) I wasdisappointed for him. He had really positive performing qualities that justcan’t be taught but a bad repertoire choice did him in.

The Right Rep, Part 1

2011-10-06T13:00:00.000-07:00

I have had at least 5 different conversations with 5different people in the last month on the multi-layered topic of choosingrepertoire, for young singers in particular. This is a subject near and dear to my heart as both a singer and ateacher because I know first-hand how incredibly important it is; song choicecan make or break an audition or a performance, or a voice for that matter. Awell-chosen piece can transform a singer; it can make a beginning singer soundlike they’ve been doing it all their life, a brilliant singer transcendent andeven a bad singer look decent! The power of carefully and thoughtfully selectedrepertoire should never be underestimated.

Before I start my inevitable rant against those who get itwrong, let me begin by enumerating the times I personally have failed miserablyto choose well for both myself and for my students.

In graduate school I was often guilty of choosing badly. I wouldfall in love with a piece that was too hard or too big or just not right for meand instead of listening to that inner voice of reason, I went right ahead andprogrammed the piece on my recital anyway. I have to admit, I often got awaywith it through sheer force of will and acting the heck out of it, but Iultimately lived to regret it and have not sung those pieces since. Live andlearn.

And oh my goodness, my first semester at AMDA was quite thelearning experience on this subject. I mistakenly thought that any studentbrave enough to come to New York City to study Musical Theatre would be, well,musically inclined and informed (read “musician”). Oh how wrong I was! A largepercentage of my first group of students didn’t even know what a quarter note wasor where middle C was on the piano. And part of my job was to teach them aclassical art song in either Italian or English from roughly 1600-1820. Well, inover my head is an understatement. All I knew about that repertoire was themuch maligned (wrongly so, I might add) 24 Italian Songs and Arias of the 17th and 18th Century (the dreaded yellow book) andthe music I personally had sung like Bellini, Mozart and Purcell. So I plungedin and assigned songs as best I could. But my best was not good enough. Theydidn’t do badly at their singing final but they certainly didn’t do as well asthey should have and that was my fault. At the tender age of 25, right out ofgrad school, I did not yet know the fine art of fitting the song to the student,let alone how to lead them through the learning process step by step. (It is now one of my greatest pleasures to find the perfect song for someone and a joy to introduce students to the art of learning and crafting a song.) ThankfullyI had the most amazing boss who sat me down after the end of that first exhausting,terrifying semester and gave me invaluable pointers on how to choose repertoirefor these kids. She introduced me to an entire new world of songs from the timeperiod that might suit these beginning singers better. (Enter the English folksong!) She also wisely advised me to almost always give them something slightlyeasier than they are capable of- they will not have to worry so much ingeneral, allowing them to focus more on new and basic concepts of singing and music-making.She reminded me to remember back to when I was first learning this stuff: take them through the piece slowly andmethodically and NEVER assume anything. Oh the difference it made! My secondsemester with these kids was infinitely more successful than the first. Thesimplicity (“directness of expression”*) of the repertoire let them focus ongood vocal technique, legato, diction and performing the song with sincerityand purpose. It changed my life as a teacher. Thank you, Anne Cotton!

But alas, not everyone has learned these lessons. I amconstantly confronted with young people being given wildly inappropriate musicto sing and it makes me crazy! And sad too, since it can sabotage their growth,confidence and even potentially erode their talents!

*Thank you Merriam-Webster.

Thank you Dawn Upshaw

2011-09-29T10:22:00.000-07:00

My absolutely favorite opera singer, Dawn Upshaw, wassupposed to perform with the Portland Symphony this weekend and I was going topay a pretty penny to see her- it was going to be inspirational andmotivational. Alas, she cancelled the concert, so I will have to findencouragement from her recordings which are numerous and sublime. She was goingto sing a very varied program starting with Benjamin Britten’s Les Illuminations and ending withBernstein, Gershwin, and Sondheim songs! (I told you the signs wereeverywhere!) Even this choice of idol is yet another clue that I too belongsinging both genres, as she does so frequently and brilliantly. Dawn Upshaw ismy favorite for many reasons. She sings everything exquisitely and with greatfeeling, theatricality, musicality and perfect diction. Her operatic singing isglorious. (I think my favorite is her recording of “No word from Tom” fromStravinsky’s The Rake’s Progress. Iknew the minute I heard it that I had to someday sing that aria. Little did Iknow how devilishly hard it is- she makes it seem ridiculously easy.) She singsMusical Theater equally well and best of all, with a perfect sense of theSTYLE. One of my biggest pet peeves is an opera singer who singsMusical Theater as if it were opera. ARGH! (Renee Fleming comes to mind. Her “Icould have danced all night” is just wrong. But her “Ain’t it a pretty night” from Floyd’s Susannah is very beautiful and expressive. This kind of American music she understands.) Ms. Upshaw seems totake great joy in the uniquely American qualities of Musical Theater; thephrasing, the diction and theatricality. She always sounds like she is havingfun while singing- what a wonderful quality!

I confess that some of the very best compliments I have evergotten on my singing are the rare and amazing times I have reminded people ofthe great Ms. Upshaw. That makes me feel so wonderful, humble and warm allover. To even be in the same sentence as her is an honor.

I actually met her my freshman year of college when she cameto UCI to give a Masterclass. I did not get to sing for her because I was alowly underclassman. But after the class I got to shake her hand and in my laryngitis-riddledvoice thanked her for her insights and her talents.

Thank you, Ms. Upshaw, for always being aninspiration to me.

A clarification

2011-09-28T14:27:00.000-07:00

I suddenly realized that one could construe from my previousposts that I now hate classical music and opera. Let me set the recordstraight: this is absolutely false. I still loveclassical vocal music in all its forms. I love to sing and teach it as much asI do Musical Theater. That is the point, after all: BOTH genres getting equaltime and love in my musical life. Just as I found my way back to MusicalTheater, I am also finding my way back to classical music as well, partlybecause I gave myself time away from it. I am rediscovering why I was drawn toit in the first place: the beauty, the elegance, the nuance, the power, the scope,the lushness, the intimacy. I am getting back to wanting to sing it for itspure qualities and the joy it brings to me as a singer and a teacher, to my audiencesand students, not for this audition or that, this requirement or that technicalmilestone.

Cole Porter to the rescue

2011-09-27T20:30:00.000-07:00

After my musical epiphany, I sought out my dear and über-talentedfriend Jeff Caldwell, who also harbors an equal passion for both opera andMusical Theater. If anyone would know what I should do about this situation, hewould. And he did. Coming home on the 7 train one evening he suggested that Ido a cabaret and that having never done one before, I should do it with someoneand he would happily volunteer. Yes! Brilliant idea! And so, two years later wedid our original cabaret, “The Boyfriend Back Home” at Don’t Tell Mama Piano Bar and Cabaret in New York City. We created a sort of mini-musical from alreadycomposed Musical Theater songs. We wrote a script, had props, choreography- theworks! It was a fantastically wonderfulexperience from beginning to end. I loved everything about the process; thecreativity, the collaboration, the rehearsals, and the performances. Afterevery brain-storming session or rehearsal, I felt exhilarated and rejuvenated; Iwas genuinely, profoundly happy! I wasso proud of what we had produced. It was the first project in a long, long timethat I felt completely connected to- it came from a place of real joy and inspiration.And we did it for the pure satisfaction of creating something new and personal and then we got to share our vision and talentswith the outside world! It doesn't get better than that!

I had planned on trying to shop the show around, but 2009brought huge changes to my personal life (my mother almost died and I felldeeply and totally in love with the most wonderful man) and that did not happen.But it was so deliciously fun to do and so well-received, I hope to somedaygive it a second life!

There are signs everywhere*

2011-09-26T15:36:00.000-07:00

Once I decided to be a vocalperformance major in college, there was no turning back. For four years ofcollege, eight years of graduate school and a decade in New York City, Iimmersed myself in the classical vocal world. And I did truly love it. At bothmy universities, my professors taught me to adore art songs, find thetheatricality in a well-programmed recital, and flex my operatic muscles. And mybeloved voice teachers Julian Patrick and Cornelius Reid taught me how to singit all beautifully and healthfully. Ironically, all those skills would turn outto be just as invaluable in singing and teaching Musical Theater as they are inthe operatic and classical repertoire. But a few years ago the business of it all just got to be toodemoralizing and my passion for my art started draining away. Frankly, I practicallystopped singing altogether. At about this same time I did a favor for my vocalcoach and sang a bunch of Cole Porter songs with him to show him the style sothat he could play them for someone else’s recital. When we finished thesession, I was practically levitating off the ground with joy. It was a high Ihad not experienced in my singing in far, far too long. I took this as a sign.

But the signs had actually been everywhere that I wouldeventually find my way back to Musical Theater, I had just ignored them. ForHeaven’s sake, the first and biggest one was my being hired as a voice teacherfor the American Musical and Dramatic Academy (AMDA NY) when I first moved to NYC.Here was Musical Theater at its most intense and varied. I remember thinking inthe first few months of my employment there how much I had missed the genre-the energy, the fun, the American-ness of it all. Sign #2? the most wellreceived, most enjoyable set in my recital in Paris, the songs that had the audiencejumping to their feet: four songs by George Gershwin! And did I listen toclassical music or opera for fun? Did I hum Puccini and Schumann while I didthe dishes? Nope. Musical Theater, again. Did I go to the Met when I had themoney? A handful of times. But Iracked up more debt going to Broadway. Opera had somehow become a job to bedone and Musical Theater a relaxing vacation.

On the subway ride home after that fateful coaching session,I pondered the meaning of my elation. I knew that it meant something profoundand that I HAD to do something with these feelings, but what?

*a nod to the movie "Fools Rush In"

From Annie to Die Zauberflöte

2011-09-25T19:56:00.000-07:00

When I was nine years old, I wascast as Duffy in Annie with theDiablo Light Opera Company in the early1980’s fervor for that wildly successful new musical. At the time, every littlegirl clamored to be on stage wearing that curly red wig, hugging that shaggyblond dog and belting their brains out. But ironically, I was not one of them. I wanted to be Eliza (Julie Andrews), orMarian (Barbara Cook), or Adelaide (Vivian Blaine). Thanks to my mother, I grewup listening to records of all the old school musical theater with the originalcasts. I knew every word and every note to such classics as Anything Goes, Music Man, Guys and Dolls, and most especially My Fair Lady. Annie was way too new to be noticed in the Cheifetz household asanything more than a passing fad. I auditioned on a whim because my friendwanted to be Annie more than life itself and somehow she convinced me toaudition with her. I have no idea how I came to this wild decision since I hadnever done anything remotely like this in my very young life. But I learned asong from the show (little did I know you should never do this!) andauditioned in an auditorium of 500 other hopeful little girls and their anxiousparents. I thought I would die from fright. To this day I don’t know how I gotthrough it- I don’t remember the actual singing, just my heart pounding soloudly that I thought everyone must be able to hear it! When I finished andfound my mother, I burst into tears from fear and relief. Fast forward a fewweeks and two callbacks later and I was cast in one of the 12 coveted orphanroles (double cast for child labor laws). And my friend, you ask? Well, she did not even get a first call back. Somuch for that friendship…

For the next year I washappily immersed in the wonderful world of Musical Theater and the land of Annie. We did two runs, 64 performances- oneentire year of my life was devoted to Annie Annie Annie.And it was fantastic. I was entranced by the process, the theater, the actors,the director, the stage hands, the show, everything. Mostly the other orphansstayed in the greenroom when they weren’t on stage, but not me. I stayed out ofthe way in the wings and backstage watching every minute of almost every show.I knew every note, every lyric. I was devastated when it ended because at thetime it never occurred to me that this joy could continue. I thought of it as aone-time thing. Happily I discovered I was wrong. Two more shows with the samecompany followed. And then something fateful happened- I hit puberty and anoperatic voice started emerging from my throat. Everyone around me who wasmusically and theatrically inclined persuaded me that classical music was myfuture. And who was I to argue? When Musical Theater wasn’t playing on therecord player, it was Beethoven, Mozart and Schubert, courtesy of my father. Itwas beautiful music that seemed interesting and certainly challenging, so Idove in. First there were three grueling, emotionally galvanizing years ofchoral boot camp, otherwise known as the San Francisco Girls Chorus. Throughtears and great struggle, I became an excellent musician and a second soprano who could (barely) hold her part in the middle of 6+ part harmony. Andfrom there it was a natural progression to classical voice lessons completewith art songs and arias. And opera suited my temperament and intellectualcuriosity. But Musical Theater was always home. I found my comedic talentsdoing Winnie from Washington in No, No Nannette and my serious side with Hodel in Fiddler on the Roof. But opera beckoned at the same time thatMusical Theater moved in the pop/rock direction, something I knew instinctuallywas not “me”. So two musical roads seemed to diverge in the wood, and I, I (for the next twenty years) tookthe classical/operatic route.

Recovering Operatic

2011-09-25T14:16:00.000-07:00

My name is Amy Cheifetz and I am a recovering opera singer.My recovery involves finding my way back home to my first love of AmericanMusical Theater while also making friends with all that glorious “high-brow”classical stuff again, but with an altered perspective. Too often singers aretaught that they can only serve one master, that only one genre deservesattention and respect. This is wrong and misguided! Why can’t the two genrescoexist peacefully and joyfully even? First of all, please remember thatwithout opera there would be no musical theater. And really, aren’t Despina andEliza Doolittle cousins of sorts? Ithink Herr Mozart, Mr. Sondheim, Signor Puccini, Messrs.’ Rodgers and Hart andall the other esteemed creators of both genres would have enjoyed each other’swork tremendously. I have an equal passion for the two (wrongly disparate)worlds of opera and Musical Theater and am on a mission to let them happily co-mingleand share the love!