The value of my art form...

I've recently applied to a very prestigious music college in the states. They ask for a (fairly) brief essay on what value you believe your art form has. A difficult thing to write about, I felt I was approaching the first chapter of a dissertation, trying to make my thoughts as concise and relevant as possible. Achievable?!

Essay...

As an opera singer, I feel I am a hybrid of two very different skills. I am part actress, part musician. I believe the musician prevails at every moment, informing the actress’ choices and helping her to make artistic decisions. The music of opera and art song evokes commitment, determination and passion in my studying and at a time when a global financial crisis is at hand, the question of what value art has for society is an apt one and one that I feel passionately about.

When Winston Churchill was asked by British Chancellor of the Exchequer, Kingsley Wood, if he would cut the government’s budget to the arts during the Second World War, he responded asking, if he did that, then “what would we be fighting for?”

To state that art, whether it be music, opera, theatre or dance, should have a price tag attached to it disregards the wealth of heritage and beauty that is in our history, crystallised through art. Art should be accessible to any who choose to be delighted and uplifted by it due to the invaluable nature of its overwhelmingly positive effects. Art must be continually created, made and cherished as it informs current society as well as providing an interpretation of the past. It should not be dismissed as ‘museum theatre’ but kept alive and breathing as a representation of our selves, past and present. Nor should art be reserved for an elite, select few, but be made readily available for any who choose to experience it. It is only in the codification and elitism of art that people become disenchanted and negative towards it.

In a recent interview for British newspaper The Guardian, opera director Peter Sellars states that ‘classical music gains its power from its subject matter, not its style’. I understand this to mean that opera is valuable to society because it comments on the lives of the people in it – therefore we must continue to live art and also to create it. Sellars’ triology of new contemporary works in collaboration with John Adams in the 1980’s (Nixon in China, The Death of Kling- hoffer and Dr Atomic) brought opera about current times, in modern dress, to a current audience and it shocked them much in the way that Mozart shocked the Viennese with his Da Ponte operas at the end of the 18th Century; the opera was about the people and for the people, it is relevant and valuable.

As well as paying respect to past works, we must also recognise the necessity for new music and opera to be continually created for the very same reason; to provide a window of honesty and truth of feeling and emotion for our current society. It seems absurd given the diffusion of popular music and modern culture to ask why we should keep past art forms such as opera alive. But I believe that we should because the colour of someone’s feeling and emotion is crystalised in their creative freedom – in their opera – and it provides a window to take ourselves somewhere else to experience it anew. Opera can be modern and relevant.

To look forward: if opera is only about one person’s creation it perhaps does bear little relevance to society at large. As culture diversifies and more avenues are available within the arts it becomes difficult to justify why any one art form is more worthy than another, and if one impacts or represents society better than any other and is therefore deserving of more attention. The simple truth is that any act of creation has value and has worth and speaks for one voice or for many in society. In the community the benefits of the arts as inspiration to those less fortunate is unsurpassed; in creation, people from disadvantaged backgrounds see possibility, hope and opportunity that they had previously not entertained as an idea. Taking recent projects with the Glyndebourne Opera Festival in Sussex, England, teenagers from the most disadvantaged areas in the surrounding suburbs were hand-picked through audition to be taught a new opera from scratch. With no previous singing or stage experience they premiered Knight Crew in March 2010 at Glyndebourne. For young people who perhaps had underachieved at school, or left school with no qualifications, through opera (and modern opera!), were able to see that if they really put their minds to something and gave it grit, commitment and determination that they could create something incredible. The value of the change that came over these young people when they felt the jubilation of their achievement on opening night will never be recaptured. The pride in their world premiere will stay with them whenever they feel they can’t achieve anything.

In its reflection of society, opera can provide us with valuable insight into past decades, centuries and eras that would be lacking from dry written accounts and letters. Past music colours the perception of our collective journey in history, it informs our image of ourselves now and it is a necessary part of our heritage, not only to remember it but to keep it alive today. If we consider the different styles of music emerging in Europe in the mid-nineteenth century we can see the Italianate power in Verdi’s music uniting the emotions and hearts of the Italians before the country’s final unification in 1862 through the unison chorus of the Hebrew slaves in Nabucco; ‘Va pensiero’. We can assess the importance of Beethoven’s triumphant 9th Symphony as a catalyst in the creation of the feeling of German nationalism through what we can now recognise to be an intrinsic German fingerprint in the core of the music which can be related back to the chorales of Bach that was of inherent importance in building a German national identity.

It is with art that we challenge ourselves and society to look further and deeper introspectively than we may willingly allow ourselves. If we are free to experiment we are free to create and in creation we reveal more of our true selves in the employment of honesty, openness and a willingness to communicate. There is no value that can be attributed to this.

To make it accessible I do not mean to say that opera should be dumbed down nor should those who do not wish to go to the opera be judged for their perceived ignorance. There is a need and a desire for art in all parts of society, but in the bid to make it universal it loses its value and meaning. So therein lies the paradox: Art is a representation of life in all its guises and is a valuable contributor to society, but there is no wrong or right way to enjoy it. I ardently believe in the importance of opera in today’s society and am determined to champion it to ensure that it does not become a museum art form but remains current and relevant to those who wish to appreciate it, and never loses its beauty. Opera is important to me as it enriches my life, allowing me view the world in a different way. I will never cease to be passionate about it, nor will I lose my willingness to share this passion with those around me.

Perchance to dream?

Why is it that we're all taught that dreams can come true in the Disney sense of the word? How can we then keep our feet on the ground, be down-to-earth and maintain a sense of reality? Now call me obtuse but I find the idea of doing both something of a paradox.

Everyday we are confronted with happily-ever-after situations, the belief instilled into us that only through a perfect family and finding a mate, preferably a soulmate, can we find true happiness and contentment (with little concerted effort I might add). It's everywhere; in films, in the media, the online dating machine portrayed as being the perfect way to meet someone, anyone. We see people with high flying careers who perhaps lack this fundamental factor (a significant other), therefore they surely can't be happy? They must be lacking something. Is it really that only through interaction with others that we can find this happiness? We seem to need others to validate our lives when in fact the only true way to happiness is through finding comfort in our own selves.

Vincit qui se vincit.

She conquers who conquers herself.

I feel some affinity to this. And believe and dream that through hardwork and dedication I will develop the artistry that I so crave and aspire to. But now I am stuck, between wanting to be able to dream; to set my sights as high as I am able to imagine and to will myself to get there with all my might, and, at the same time, feeling that I must be humble and honest enough to say that if I do not succeed I will be happy regardless. If I don't succeed will I have failed in conquering myself?

Can dreams can come true? Well, I am not sure it is not enough only to dream; we must strive to succeed with all that we are given. Through that you can make your dreams become part of your reality. In conquering your self and your own misgivings and self-doubts you can let yourself go to do what you wish. Achieve as you will.

Question.

What would you attempt to do, if you knew you could not fail?

The brevity of this post is due to being away from a computer (again) for the weekend. Food for thought.

Interview

Interview about being a young opera singer.

So how did it all begin?

In all honesty I couldn’t pinpoint an exact time or age. I come from a family of professional classical musicians so you could say music is in my blood. I’ve always adored it and singing is something that I became more serious about in my late teens and during my degree. Apparently when I was a tiny baby the only time I was ever silent was if opera came on the radio; my Mum used to say I became transfixed by the sound of voices, so perhaps that was the first sign that singing was what would truly get my attention even though I didn’t start training until two decades later.

What made you give it a bash?

At Edinburgh University the music department encourage you to take a second subject when you begin the course. My first study was piano and I’d had to stop playing the ‘cello due to problems with my left hand, so singing seemed the easiest (!) option. I was already singing in choirs and cast in various productions so when I got recommended to a good teacher I started going for weekly lessons. It was around the end of the first term when I began to take singing more seriously and by the end of my first year had changed to singing as my first study and stopped focussing on the piano. I became more and more serious about it over the subsequent three years until now when I’m preparing to audition for some of the top music conservatoires to study at postgraduate level.

How did you get started?

Having taken part as a young girl in school choirs and musicals I had always sung but never had any formal training. Starting with a classical singing teacher was fascinating as I realised how much more work there was to do. The most important thing is breathing and beginning to sing on the breath and ‘spinning’ the sound. Gradually all sorts of other things need to be worked on, such as vowels, diction, languages, intonation so it’s important to have a teacher that you trust to help you with all these things. A teacher is the best way of knowing what direction you should be going on, and they can inspire you and coach you into starting your own journey as a young artist and making your own artistic decisions.

Who inspired you?

My family have always inspired me to work hard and diligently at music, but what inspires me most now is watching performances of different operas or pieces by my favourite singers. I have several favourites, all of whom are wonderful artists completely dedicated to their craft. Their hardwork and success is inspiring as it proves that if you’re dedicated and focussed you can achieve something.

What do you like to sing (as an individual and as part of group)?

My favourite things to sing are operatic arias, preferably in Italian and above all Mozart is my favourite. He’s probably the best singing teacher you could ever have...

What was the first event you ever sang at/put on?

The first time I remember having to really work on singing in public was for my dance school’s end of year performance. I played Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and had to sing ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’ with a real dog on stage. I think it went well as all I thought about was the whether the dog was behaving so didn’t panic about singing!

What’s the best event you’ve sang at/put on?

The best event has to be a charity concert I sang at with a large orchestra in Manchester at The Bridgewater Hall. I sang to over 2,000 people and I think it’s when I first realised how much I enjoy performing. To be able to sing music which is enjoyed by so many people is a really gratifying experience and although that is probably the biggest performance I have done, I have sung in many other situations and been equally moved by people’s reactions and thanks following a performance. A smaller event can be even more beautiful because of its intimacy.

What’s the best thing about performing (individually and as part of a group)?

It isn’t the same for everyone, but for me the very best thing about performing is having the chance to communicate something from the music to the people listening. The music is so important and the wishes of the composer are paramount. If you can perform in a way that expresses the composer’s music in a way that is appreciated and enjoyed by an audience then it has been a success. The performance is never about the performer, it has to be about the shared experience of those listening and those creating the music. It’s because of that belief that I find singing such a liberating experience, there is a freedom in interpretation that is more important than the individual; than me! Getting lost in the moment and using all the practice, training and work to make something special that people can (hopefully!) enjoy is what I enjoy most.

What was your first tune you bought?

Embarrassingly, I believe the first tune I bought was a B*Witched track, luckily my taste has improved somewhat since then with my favourite thing to have on my iPod being Richard Strauss’ Four Last Songs sung by Renee Fleming.

Challenges?

Being British, one of the biggest challenges we face in opera is language. If we wish to sing classical music we have to sing in Italian, French, German at the very least, not including Czech or Russian or Spanish! The biggest challenge I feel I have completed so far is gaining fluency in Italian. I studied at the University of Milan for a year on the Erasmus exchange programme and am immensely proud to be fluent in another language. As English speakers we are accustomed to almost everyone we encounter globally to be able to say something, anything, in English. It is automatically a barrier as we are then lazy at trying to speak other languages. To return to the idea of communicating through singing, it is even harder then to make it mean something to your audience when you’re singing in a language that few understand. Musicality and the belief and understanding of the foreign language must be more profound than if you were singing in your native language. It’s an extra challenge that we have to face but one that is also incredibly enjoyable and rewarding.

Top Tips for budding singers?

Firstly, don’t be afraid to work hard! Even if you have a great natural talent, due to the nature of operatic singing you have to cultivate something more sturdy and reliable through regular practice and study. Be careful with your health, no smoking, watch how much you drink. Dream, and aim high, but always remember to enjoy it, if you’re performing and hating every second then it doesn’t matter that it’s a ‘big’ gig, if it isn’t something your gaining enjoyment from then it isn’t worth it! Music should always make you happy and remain something you’re passionate about.

Breathing

I've been chewing over writing a post about breathing for a week or two. It seems like the beginning, and the most important, so maybe it's also the last. It's one of the most fundamental things that enables us to sing properly, let alone live. I once watched a film starring Tom Hanks, I can't even remember the title, but at the end of the film he talks about how, even when things were at their worst, he knew that all he had to do was keep breathing, in and out, and in and out. There wasn't a choice. He couldn't stop living. He simply had to breathe.

I was profoundly moved by this scene, and when I think of it in regards to singing it seems to make so much sense. We need to remember to breathe. When we're hit by nerves, or we care a lot about a performance or audition, our pulse quickens, there's a rush of adrenaline; we forget the simplest thing required of us to sing. Breathing is paramount as without a steady flow of pressure on the vocal folds from the bellows below, the sound we make doesn't ring true. If we're not breathing correctly we don't create the sound we're used to and the quality of the performance deteriorates. Learning to breathe when nervous is a skill. Breathing is so important to us that for the majority of the time it is involuntary, it isn't something we think about, and yet when we wish to we can exert some control over it. I think the control can be unconscious at times and I have noticed that when I am excruciatingly nervous I all but stop my breathing as a defence mechanism. It is a way of controlling the situation that is no longer in our hands.

When we begin to learn to sing it is almost a given that the teacher will start with breathing. Closely linked to posture and ensuring that the body can support the flow of air, breathing becomes something singers are overly conscious of. Perhaps for the first time in their lives they learn to stand taller and to take a deep breath and without letting it escape immediately, use the air as the tool to make their instrument sound. Over time the intercostal and abdominal muscles grow stronger; we can exert more control. And yet, we can lose some, or even all, of the control we attempt to gain over it when hit by nerves. There was a programme recently on BBC2 which was presented by the wonderful soprano Dame Kiri Te Kanawa, and she said something that really hit me. Every time, before she goes on stage, she makes sure that she has time to breathe in, very slowly and calmly, twenty times. She takes her singing back to its simplest level and regains consciousness of her body's air flowing in and out.

As a young singer trying to understand what can improve my performance I have to assess what it is that is constricting me or what changes in my technique from when I'm practicing to when I'm in front of an audience. First and foremost I have to notice that it is my breathing that I need to be conscious of. And in the future, I will take Kiri's advice and go back to the beginning. Breathing in, and breathing out, in and out, in and out.

At the start

So really, what's this blog for?

I've always written a diary. Ever since I was twelve. As a sort of expunging of daily feelings and thoughts. The need to write lessened as I grew older and developed different ways of thinking. Perhaps because of deeper relationships with friends talking replaced the need to write so regularly as we spent time in discussion instead. There is still a pull to record things. My own thoughts, with no input from others, no incessant traipsing backwards and forwards over an idea in discussion. Simply to write, let the feeling or idea go into the air, or onto the page and into the calm. Writing is one of the most releasing things I know to do. That and making music.

I was once traveling on a long journey from Bologna to Milan on a train from visiting a friend. Perhaps I was having a moment of romanticism but I started writing poetry into my beautiful moleskin diary which I have with me always. We had spent hours of the first day searching every inch of an old Bologna book market. There were the most fascinating old books, some of which were dusty and falling apart, old maps of Italy printed on thick paper now browned at the edges. I found a sweet edition of some of Shakespeare's sonnets with translations into Italian. I cherish it now as a reminder of the wonderful year I spent living and singing and studying there.

I think the decision to start a blog online is something of a random one. I intend it to focus on singing and the idea for it came out from my observations of various other blogs; very few actually deal with the technical issues we come across as young singers, how we approach them and how the emotional journey we travel as we grow in maturity helps our performance and musical interpretation. I intend to tell a story I suppose, and maybe, if I continue, document my development from the beginning to now and see what happens in the future. Who knows what could happen...

Frizzante

Firstly, perhaps a little explanation is necessary as to my titular choice. The soprano bit speaks for itself, but 'frizzante' is maybe a little stranger. It's an Italian word that literally means fizzy, or bubbling. I like it when it refers to a sparkling wine. But mostly, when I think of it now, it refers to singing and the idea of a bubbling energy that drives the energy behind all of my singing. A similar notion to the idea that a swan can appear serene and calm on the surface of a lake. But that serenity is actually fuelled by a powerful drive from underneath that paddles furiously. The beauty of the swan gliding along the water is an allusion to the continued effort as it forges its way through the water. Similar, in some ways, to the effortlessness required for singing. When in fact, singing requires continued study, energy and passion...