Singing in front of an audience can sometimes feel like a tightrope walk to me. I've heard that, in tightrope walking, you aren't supposed to think about the ground below, or you'll fall. You see it beyond your feet if you look down, but you need to divert your focus.
The same thing occurs when performing. You know your audience is there, but you can't really think about them, or you'll break your focus of the piece, losing character, breath engagement, and shattering the spell you have cast to create this space of illusion, this fantasy play world you're living in while you sing. You have to keep moving because the flow of the music carries you along, so you keep placing one foot in front of another, one note after another, breathing and moving with the music. But you can't think too much about what's ahead, or again you'll lose your focus.
It's different than public speaking for me. When I stand up to speak in front of a group, I know that I don't have to keep placing one foot rhythmically after another. I can stutter and stumble, and I won't fall. It's like having the ultimate net. I can backtrack, restate, refer to notes, and above all, not worry too much about "creating a character". As long as my technique is fine - the power in my sound, the intention of speech - I will convey what I need. True, to make it extraordinary, I probably need a "character" - a motivation, a clear set of objectives to accomplish. But it is still easier.
When you sing, you have to be simultaneously a master of details and someone who rises above them to let them all go, to allow yourself to glide on top of the waves. If you think too much, you don't tap into the intangible. But to perform well, you need to know the notes, the rhythms, the diction, how to shape your mouth for each vowel (it's different in singing than speech), the translation of the words, the subtext (what your character is thinking with each phrase), the physicality of this character, the breath support you need, the color of the notes, dynamics on each note, emotions for each phrase, the energy you need, and on and on... They have to be in your bones so much that you're not really thinking about them. These elements need to become part of you so that they arise organically and spontaneously out of what you're doing.
Yesterday, I sang "So anch'io la virtu magica" for my opera workshop class. It's a piece that Gaetano Donizetti wrote for his opera Don Pasquale. The character is Norina, a sparkly young woman. At the opening of the piece, she's reading a romance novel, and she begins to describe it. She talks about how the knight, Riccardo, is pierced with just a glance from a woman, and he falls to his knees and declares his love and total loyalty to her. Because of her, he vows never to think about another woman. At this point, Norina laughs at the silliness of the book. She launches into the main aria, which is all about how she too knows how to charm men. A little smile, a lying tear, a sudden languor - all the tricks of wily lovers - are hers to command. But above all, despite her rather odd head/mind, she has an excellent heart, and she loves to play.
The words of the aria are repeated throughout. "Mi piace scherzar" - literally "It pleases me to play" - is sung about 13 times. The trick is to keep it fresh and make it different each time.
When I sang this piece in my studio class last week, my voice teacher pointed out that my gestures were rather canned. I had meticulously planned my movements, and I've sung the piece quite a few times between all the practicing and the audition circuit. And it showed. This is not a good thing. It's almost like saying, "Now I'm going to be sad. [Frown]"
So my challenge over the past week was to try to reinvigorate the aria, to bring fresh energy back into it. I dropped the gestures and started working from just speaking the text. It's a lot easier for me to find expressive acting and appropriate, fresh energy when I'm talking instead of singing. Part of this is because the sentiments come more naturally, and I can work with tempo a bit better. Part is because I'm not thinking about technique and my BreathSupportDynamicsVowelShapeTone etc.
Yesterday, the opening bit was still a little stiff as I was working out nerves. But then I came to the part where Norina laughs, and the audience laughed with me. At this point, I just leaned back against the piano (another great suggestion from my voice teacher) and started to go with it. I didn't move my hands unless I felt like it, so it was much more spontaneous. No planned or canned gestures. And it seemed to work. :) I found my place on the tightrope, got that balancing act, and figured out how to really be in the moment in a performance.
It was so much fun!
There's still more work to be done on the aria. I still had some troubles finding spontaneity in all the different "Mi piace scherzar"s, so the professor had four students stand up in front with me. I had to play Follow the Leader with them while I sang. My challenge was to get them all in a line and then get them to follow me through whatever obstacles or movements I devised.
The accompaniment started, and we were off. Pirouetting, lunging on the floor, spinning a chair on wheels among us like a ball in four square, marching around the room, and above all, Playing, Playing, Playing. After all, that's "scherzar" for you. And that was the secret. The other students thought the sound had more joy, more fresh energy. Now I just need to find it in normal, stationary performance.
The other neat point the professor made was about Norina. She is evidently a very visceral character, the ultimate joie de vivre. Everything is juicy and savored and not at all intellectual. And this delight, this quirkiness has to come through in the aria. Something to work on for sure.
Tomorrow is a voice lesson, a couple classes, and lots of practicing. Friday is an audition for the Mozart Requiem soloist parts. A busy week for sure...
~Hope
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