The Milanese soprano Barbara Frittoli has been a regular fixture at Covent Garden for a decade, during which time she has appeared in a variety of roles including Mozart’s Fiordiligi and Vitellia and Verdi’s Luisa Miller. After it closed for two years of refurbishment, she also took part in the House’s reopening production of Falstaff as Alice Ford. Successes at Salzburg with Abbado and Vienna under Muti in the 1990s secured her position as one of the world’s foremost lyric dramatic sopranos, with Verdi a specialty; she remains a favourite in Vienna and at the Met. Her discography includes roles in Il trittico for Decca and Turandot for BMG, while her albums of arias by Verdi (under Colin Davis) and Mozart (with Charles Mackerras) remain highly-esteemed examples of this repertoire on disc.

Now Frittoli is back at Covent Garden to play the Countess in the second revival of David McVicar’s production of Le nozze di Figaro under Mackerras, a regular partnership. I chatted to her on the eve of the dress rehearsal to ask her about her welcome return to London and her plans to add roles such as Aida and Thais to her repertoire.

Le nozze di Figaro is one of Mozart’s best-loved opere buffe but as Frittoli sees it, the Countess is far from being a comic character. ‘Well, I think that none of the characters is comic!’ she declares. ‘It’s very important to remember where these people have come from. The Countess is Rosina from Il barbiere di Siviglia. Of course, she is married now, and she’s growing up a bit, but she’s still the same person. She’s a bit like Donna Elvira in Don Giovanni, very pathetic, and she finds herself in a strange situation with the Count and the others. Perhaps Bartolo and Marcellina can be comic characters, but none of the others is.’

Does that mean she’s a weak person? ‘No of course she’s not weak. It’s a little bit of a shame that this production is set a century after the play, because in the era Beaumarchais was writing about, women were not allowed any power: they could not have a say about anything. The Countess has to go on as she is, and the Count makes all the decisions for her. That’s why she has to have help from Susanna and Figaro, whose actions are in her favour as well as their own.’

In La mere coupable, the third of Beaumarchais’ Figaro plays, the Countess has had an affair with Cherubino. But Frittoli doesn’t think that’s part of the action of Mozart’s Figaro. ‘There’s not even a mention of it. But in the second act, there’s the brief scene where Susanna and the Countess play with Cherubino and dress him up. It’s obvious that he’s madly in love with her and wants her. But at the end of the day, they are just two young women who want to play with a boy, no more than that. In this production, there’s a brief indication that the Countess will have a baby with Cherubino, but for me it’s not so important. We know what happens in the future, but that’s enough.’

Although the Countess has two big arias and various other important numbers to sing, she doesn’t appear at all in Act I. Does that bother Frittoli? ‘It doesn’t bother me in the least. I mean, the title role is Figaro, and he and Susanna are the most important characters. Beaumarchais intended it that way: the servants were the people he wanted to write about. When the play was first performed, it was a social scandal because of the way it depicts the serving class and their interaction with their masters. So for me, it’s not a problem. Also, it needs to be clear to the audience what has happened in Act I before the Countess arrives in Act II, so I don’t care about not appearing in the first act. And I never care if I’m playing the title role or a small role – when the cast is so nice and good at what they do, as they are here, you don’t care.’

What’s the working relationship like with Sir Charles Mackerras, the conductor of this revival? ‘Oh, it’s very special. Of course, sometimes it’s not easy because he knows so much about the music and is so famous for doing it! And not everyone does Mozart like he does, but that makes it very interesting. The main thing is that he is so energetic, which is very important for Mozart. Mozart must be kept alive, and if anything, Sir Charles is even more energetic and funny in this production than he normally is. He’s also a great musician, of course, and he matches his energy to the stage action: to conduct this music well, you have to know how to follow what happens on stage.’

David McVicar’s production updates the action to around 1830. What does Frittoli make of that? ‘Beaumarchais was alive in the eighteenth century, not the nineteenth century, and for me, I normally like Mozart to be performed in period. However, the way they have done this production is fantastic – the costumes and scenery are beautiful. I did a modern production once, and I hated it: although I like the modern way of acting, I don’t like to update the setting. How can you talk about the droit de seigneur in a modern period, for instance? They’ve done it all well here, but in other productions I’ve worked on, they’ve changed the words because, unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work. It’s like Shakespeare: it doesn’t really make sense to do Romeo and Juliet in anything other than the original time period.’

Read more here!

The Countess is the only character in Le nozze di Figaro (well, maybe Marcellina is a runner-up) whose love-life isn’t complicated by her own narcissism. As a result, she’s the one character in the opera who sometimes seems a little too good to be true; if the Count’s honor is compromised by his self-confessed “human frailty,” then how does the Countess get off being so perfect all the time?

Speaking from the point of view of actor or director, the easiest way to humanize the Countess is to have her seriously tempted by the youthful ardor of Cherubino. After all, that’s what Beaumarchais was thinking. He even wrote a third Figaro play, The Guilty Mother, about the child Cherubino will father upon the Countess. You can hear her supremely loving, sexual yet maternal, feminine warmth in the incredible music Mozart created for the Countess, particularly her entrance aria, “Porgi, amor“.

We hear that aria immediately following Figaro’s “Non più andrai,” and Mozart’s juxtaposition of that cheerful, extroverted bass aria with this slow, delicate soprano aria couldn’t be more brilliant. It does introduce the Countess as a character who’s prone to be passive, sad, and introverted; the perfect wife gazing out the window at a world to which she’s denied access. And she continues to be mostly reactive, rather than proactive, for the balance of the scene in her bedroom–which makes Act 3 really her time to shine.

In Seattle Opera’s 2005 YAP Figaro, Robyn Driedger-Klassen’s Countess stood up to Andrew Garland’s Count.

My favorite moment for the Countess comes in the recitative that opens Act 3, that same scene in which the Count admits (to himself) his own human frailty. The Countess finally takes her destiny into her own hands when she urges Susanna to ask the Count for an assignation, and not to tell Figaro. (Earlier, Figaro had advised the Countess to catch the Count in the act, as it were; but he had suggested Cherubino-in-drag as the false Susanna. When the Countess takes over the plan, she decides to play the false Susanna herself.) The rest of the opera flows naturally from that decision. The Letter duet, the business with Barbarina and the pin, even Figaro’s jealousy of Susanna and the two arias exploring that. Musically, we hear the Countess’s heroic resolve in the up-tempo conclusion of her Act 3 aria, “Dove sono”.

Grace and beauty and maternal warmth and sexual allure are all well and good, but it’s her strength of character, her ability to figure out what it is she wants and to go get it, that makes the Countess an inspiring human being and the ultimate victor at the end of the opera.

Who’s the baddest bitch in Mozart?

Arguably someone ferocious like Elettra from Idomeneo, but HELLO, that opera never gets any play.

What about that feisty cougar Donna Elvira?

There’s also Fiordiligi who just never decides it’s time to leave the stage..EVER.

Queen of the Night who could easily “out-crazy” the moms on Toddlers & Tiaras is certainly in the running!

BUT everyone knows that the Countess would invite all these bitches over for tea and then sing them under her tea table…which is probably a very elegant tea table of the French design!

This month, Operagasm is dedicating our coverage to the Countess Almaviva and everything we love about her…and everything EVERYONE loves about her. This is all in addition to the news, reviews, and other fun stuff we brings ya on the regular, because we are not stupid like the Count. Making folks feel all unloved and stuff. He ought to be ashamed.

Enjoy this clip of Dame Kiri te Kanawa (considered by many to be the Countess of her time) singing “Porgi amor”:

Daniela Candillari

by Daniela Candillari

“You can reduce your anxiety somewhat by facing the fact that there isn’t a mechanic alive who doesn’t louse up a job once in a while.  The main difference between you and the commercial mechanics is that when they do it you don’t hear about it – just pay for it, in additional costs prorated through all your bills.  When you make the mistakes yourself, you at least get the benefit of some education.”

– Robert M. Pirsig: Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Performance anxiety is a topic researched and written about by many, and rather than writing another analytical paper, I decided to present a story of how I got from point A to point B, and back again.  In other words how I learned to be my own mechanic when it came to performing.

Since I could remember I wanted to be on stage performing and when I started playing piano my dream started becoming a reality.  My first performances that were built around those tough pieces of total 16 measures went really well and I could not wait for every single opportunity to perform, be it in school productions or our piano concerts.  Everything was going well and how it should in those early stages of music education.  However every good story has a twist.   The twist in mine happened one day while I was waiting in line for my turn to go on stage.   The way our concerts were run in the music school was that on a given day in a month selected students from all the piano studios would play the pieces they studied.  The younger ones would go first and the higher the level of the student the longer they had to wait for their turn to go to the concert hall.  Those waiting intermezzos could last anywhere from 10 – 45 minutes.  At the age of 8 I had already accumulated some experience in waiting and performing.  So, there I was waiting for my turn and a girl standing behind me started talking to me.  From nowhere she asked ‘Aren’t you afraid?’  A little bit confused by the question, I replied ‘What is there to be afraid of’,  and she continued with her explanation that a lot of things could go wrong.  After the short ‘coaching’ I was just involuntarily given, what was the next thing that happened?  Of course, I got scared and was dreading going on stage.  Things that never even crossed my mind somehow snuck their way and in the mere 7 minutes I had left before entering the podium, everything had changed.  It is sad but true to say that this was fear I had for the next 10 years.  There were good performances during that period, but think of the energy I could have saved myself had I not listened to a girl I never ever met again after that encounter.

Years later, after many performances and concentration exercises, and armed with a modest knowledge of how I came from one point to another one, I realize that as a child I was simply following my own instincts, and my instincts were only telling me to perform and tell a story with music.  They did not tell me to worry if my stool is going to be high enough, if a passage at the end of the 8th measure is going to run smoothly, or tell me I was going to have a memory slip.

Many specialists say there are around five main causes for performance anxiety, which can be fought over if you ask yourself the right question.  Some of these causes can be:

* fear of being judged by the audience: one way of dealing with it is to ask yourself why are these people here to listen to you;
* fear of failure as an outcome of the performance can be another cause: rather than focusing on the outcome of the performance, think of the present and enjoy the moment you are in;
* by trying to reduce the risk of failure, we can achieve exactly the opposite outcome; so instead of focusing on the possible negative aspect of your performance, it is more encouraging to think of a positive outcome.

Of course the power of preparation is never to be underestimated.  Daniel Barenboim put this beautifully when he said the better he knows a piece, the more free he feels on stage.

Nowadays the main question I ask myself before I stand in front of any-size audience is, what is the story I am trying to tell and what do I want my audience to take home with them.  Mistakes happen.  There is no other way around it.  One of the best pianists of the 20th century, Arthur Schnabel, was even recorded playing Mozart’s Piano Concert in A-major K. 488, some would say a concerto played by literally every pianist, and yet in this widely known piece a memory slip happened.  But in the grand scheme of things, the little mistakes can become charming.  It’s not the mistakes that make your performance, it’s your personality and the story you are sharing.  So go and tell a story every time you have one person wanting to listen to you.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Daniela Candillari, Ph.D., is Head Coach at Slovenian National Opera in Maribor, prior to this engagement she was on faculty at Indiana University Jacobs School of Music.  She was the recipient of Fulbright Scholarship and TED Fellowship, and has given recitals and masterclasses in Europe, North America, and Asia.  In recent years she developed a strong interest in multimedia projects, resulting in an invitation by Håkan Hagegård to Stockholm for performances of Dominick Argento’s From the Diary of Virginia Woolf and Ture Rangström’s Ur Kung Eriks Visor.  Her past projects include a recital Northern Lights with Ørjan Hartveit; Adjustments, a video production with Pablo Rodriguez and Ted Strauss, and a production for Bravo Channel (Montréal) on TV series Shakespeare in Words and Music.

For more information on Daniela, visit her website: www.danielacandillari.com

As General Director of Opera Vivente, I used to receive hundreds of audition applications each year, so I spent a lot of time sorting through headshots, resumés, review sheets, and recommendation letters. And year after year, I notice the same problems with all of the above materials. So, when Operagasm asked me to write an article about what professionals engaged in the hiring of singers actually look for, like, dislike, and downright despise, I jumped at the chance.

First of all, I want to go on record that, of course, the most important thing in an audition is how well you perform your audition arias. That said, however, the reality of the situation is that, in any audition environment, there will be many, many, many singers who all sing their audition pieces equally well. How do employers decide between all these really talented singers? It’s in answering those questions that those other (I’ve often heard singers refer to these as “peripheral”) materials come into play. Those other materials give us a snapshot not just of you as a performer, but of you as a professional, a colleague, and a person. And they are often far more revealing than you know. So let’s talk about the two absolute essential components to that package first.

HEADSHOTS – Back in the day, headshots used to be an investment equivalent to a luxurious week in the south of France. All the “best” photographers were in New York. No one shot digitally. No one gave you complete ownership of your negatives. Reproduction was so costly that singers often had to order literally thousands of prints in order to make it cost effective. Consequently, many singers who were unsatisfied with their headshots or no longer looked like their headshots were stuck with sending out the same unflattering or baffling headshot year after year after year. Well, happily, that is all a thing of the past. There are many excellent photographers in virtually every city in every state. Almost everyone shoots digitally now (and if they don’t, avoid them). Photographers routinely hand over a disk with all of your shots in return for the agreed upon fee and proper crediting. And with digital printing now at everyone’s finger tips, you can print yourself (or have your local Kinko’s do it) as few or as many copies as you need. SOOOOO –
NO MORE EXCUSES FOR BAD HEADSHOTS!!!!!

So now I can hear everyone in cyberland asking: Well, what makes a good headshot? So here’s a few things you should keep in mind when having headshots taken and when choosing which shot is “the one”.

1) Go color – The industry is trending towards color headshots across the board. And while it is very simple to take a color headshot and make it black and white if necessary, it is appallingly difficult to go the other direction. And the results are never good. Think of all those dreadful colorized black and white movies where the blonds all have hair the color of a school bus. YUCK!

2) Go simple – Avoid wearing anything that is too distracting the subject of the photo, namely you. Excessive jewelry (or inappropriate jewelry like tiaras, nose rings, etc.), hairstyles that would look more appropriate on an editorial fashion shoot or a reception line at Buckingham Palace, and clothing that engulfs your face are all no-nos. Dress as you would for a job interview: something that is flattering to your figure and skin tone, put together without being over the top, and above all makes you feel attractive and confident will result in a great shot.  Also keep in mind that the more you look like your headshot when you do the audition, the more likely the company is to remember you accurately.

3) Avoid the 1-900 look – Yes, yes, yes. I know sex sells. ON THE STAGE! Not in a headshot. Avoid shots of you that you would use as a naughty “thinking of you” card to your significant other. This is particularly true for all you lyric sopranos going after ingénue roles.

4) Change your headshot as often as necessary – If your appearance changes radically over the years: weight loss, weight gain, change in hair color, cosmetic surgery, etc. DO NOT KEEP SENDING OUT THE SAME HEADSHOT. Have another one taken. Remember, there are no more excuses.

Resumes – I have to admit, as puzzling as I find the bad headshot phenomenon, I find the state of most singer’s resumes even more puzzling. Things that I would have considered self-evidently huge no-nos, i.e spelling errors, factual errors, and (dare I say it) actual lies, are all too routine. Keep in mind that the resume is the first and most immediate way we have of assessing you as a professional. A sloppy and inaccurate resume makes us wonder about your attention to detail, your integrity, and your reliability. So spend some time on getting this right and show it to a number of people in the profession whose opinion you trust before you send it out to people who don’t know you except through this resume. Here are some things to think about while preparing your resume.

1) Be accurate – Make sure everything is spelled correctly (complete with all appropriate diacritical marks for international words). Make sure you follow appropriate capitalization rules for foreign languages, e.g. Le nozze di Figaro NOT Le Nozze di Figaro. Make sure that the way you state your experience is accurate. If you covered a role but never went on stage, that needs to be indicated on the resume. This business is very small, and you will be found out even in a tiny little “white lie”.

2) Be clear – Make sure that the categories on your resume are communicative of what type of information is in them. I find the following set to be quite useful (in order from top to bottom): Upcoming Engagements, Performing Experience (if you have a lot of performing experience this can be parsed out into “sub” categories like Opera Experience, Oratorio and Concert Experience, Recital Experience, etc.), Teachers, Coaches, Conductors, Directors (these can be put in neat little columns across your resume), and finally Education.  Within the Experience categories, you want the following columns for operatic roles: Role Name, Opera title (with composer name in parenthesis if not a well-known work), Company, Year(for upcoming engagements it’s often helpful to include the month and year)

3) Care about the look of your resume – Avoid too many fonts. They make a document chaotic and hard to read. Experiment rather with one font in a variety of type styles (Bold, Italic (de rigeur for titles), All Caps, Small Caps, etc.) and a variety of point sizes. Your name should be the largest point size on the paper. Think about a bit of visual break up on the page, either by being cognizant of “white space” or by using a simple line or wing-ding to add visual interest. However, avoid anything cutesy like a smiley face wing-ding or a line made out of musical notes. Print it on nice quality paper of at least 24lb weight. NOT the white copy paper that happens to be in the Xerox machine at Kinko’s. If you feel unsure of your ability to work on this from a design standpoint, consult a graphic designer. Once again, there are many very fine freelance designers in virtually every city who won’t cost you much more than you’re paying for your headshots, and this document is every bit as important as the headshot. So why not invest a little bit of money in this?

4) Keep it current – You should update your resume on an annual basis. Some singers go a little overboard with this and update their resume every time the phone rings. I would reserve these “latest developments” for a cover letter. It gets a company’s attention to know that you are currently being offered work. A simple sentence such as “I have recently been contracted by the Metropolitan City Opera of Lower Dubuque to sing the role of Third Diva from the Left in the newly rediscovered opera Emilia di Detroit by Carlos Fiamma di Dinario” will suffice.

Since these two items are a) the ones required by virtually every opera company on earth and b) the ones that singers most often have angst and trouble with, and since this article is already probably way more than the Operagasm folks bargained for, I will hold up there. If Operagasm would like me to talk about some other components of the audition package or auditioning itself, I’d be happy to write something further at a later point. One last word of advice for auditioning:

Prepare all aspects of your audition well, and then go into the audition with the same confidence and joy you would bring to a performance. In the end, that’s what an audition is: a performance for a small audience. If it’s a pleasure for you to sing it, it will probably be a pleasure for us to hear it.

“Say the word, and the tone will come.”  ~ Arturo Toscanini (to Jan Peerce)

“I am interested in music that is better than it can be performed.”  ~ Artur Schnabel

The Personality

Singers:  you can’t live with ‘em, and you can’t light their hair on fire.

Okay, well…while I’ve never had this exact thought, there have been times, in my years as a collaborator with all kinds of vocalists, when I may have glanced longingly at a book of matches during a rehearsal. Even if just for a second.  But alas, good sense has always prevailed.  (After all, enough histrionics is enough:  we’ve already got a high “F” above high “C”, fergodsakes, we don’t need a plume of smoke to add to the mix.  I do want my security deposit back when I move.  Plus there’s the whole assault and battery thing, which could wind up putting a crimp in my day.)

Lest you think that I have no affection for singers, please be disabused of that notion now.  I love singers who are also musicians: those who will sing the music rather than just singing their voices, those who care for the entire story they’re involved in telling and not just for how much manufactured “feeling” that can be squeezed into every note like so much mascarpone cheese.  These musician types are the ones I adore and come back to working with again and again.

What I have less than an ample amount of love for is the diva.  Oh, excuse me: The DIVA.  The one who enters the room and sucks all the air out of it, leaving even her own elongated eyelashes to flutter in a space-like vacuum, teeth glittering, like a fearsome disco ball that has learned to walk and (most of the time) dress itself.  The best-case scenario with such a one is that she (or he – glitter knows no gender preference, especially when you only see it in your imagination, stuck to the person’s aura as sure as gum to the bottom of a high-heeled shoe) has an incredible voice; the kind that, when the mouth opens, makes you temporarily forget the glare she’d given you when you’d admitted that you had not, in fact, heard of that particular Ippolitov-Ivanov aria about milking a goat, no matter how famous it is back in Belarus, or whatever farm-heavy midland in name-your-God-forsaken-caucus she and her bowties had crawled out of.

But let’s not get ahead of myself.

The Story and the Task

What makes a good musician?  My simplest answer (completely subjective, to-be-taken-with-a-grain-of-salt-if-you-don’t-like-it), ultimately, is: the ability to communicate the story of the piece – or, in the case of vocalists, the meaning of a text – without drawing unnecessary or undue attention to oneself as the storyteller.  The best art is made in a state of self-transcendence.  This is universally acknowledged by the greatest artists; invariably they will speak in some way of feeling like they aren’t doing it, like they are a vessel, like they are just catching the tail of the horse, clearing away the debris from around what is “already there” in the sculpture, etc.  Even if one is a huge personality in his or her day-to-day life, the moment of inspiration is one that outshines us in such a way that that personality, as entertaining (or…whatever) as it may be in social settings, becomes obsolete.

Therefore, in the moment of performance, it is enough that you are up there, telling the story; the story is what’s great; you can be great only if all your effort is bent to the task at hand, with nary a jot of attention left over for yourself as the vessel.  Just as an actor, to be great, must absolutely disappear into a part, so must we as musicians disappear into the story.  This isn’t a negative thing at all; it’s actually extremely liberating.  I would even venture to say that the better one is at doing this, the less of a need one might have to otherwise be a “big personality” in daily life, but I digress with my armchair psychologizing.  The point is, you are who you are no matter what; your understanding is what you’re bringing to the story, what you’re filtering it through, anyway.  As my teacher, Leon Fleisher, is so fond of saying, we are like prisms reflecting light; we will reflect the way we will in any case, so rather than become preoccupied with the prism, itself, let’s spend our time being preoccupied with the light.

But back to singers.  Diva or humble servant of the music, amazing or just okay, we are all on the same journey, and the bottom line is that, as a collaborator, I am on your side.  I do not want to see you crash and burn in the moment of performance, even if you tend to be a raging bitch or arrogant prick offstage.  I will do my best to uphold the music as best I can, and hopefully you will join me in this endeavor in our collaboration. And if you make choices (whether in the moment or beforehand) that seem at odds with what I think “needs” to be done, I won’t leave you high and dry; that would be me getting involved with me and, therefore, getting “dis-involved” with the story.  That serves nobody.

The Bitching

I’d originally intended this to be sort of a vent about some of the more extreme personalities I’ve worked with over the years, often in audition-type scenarios, but as you can see, the more serious side of the discussion seems to have taken over.  That said, here are a few things, in no particular order, which singers have done (or often do) which make me want to reach for the nearest bottle of gin right after I beat myself soundly about the head and neck for twenty seconds.

1)  Please, please, please:  when in doubt, make a phrase.  Now, I realize that lots of “diva” types are likely unfamiliar, or at least not very good friends, with the concept of “doubt”, because clearly everything you choose to do is perfect in every way, but hear me out on this, at least: just because a note is high is no reason to linger “lovingly” on it, especially if these high (dare I call them “money”?) notes happen to occur every other line.  Direction is a powerful thing, and when you blow your wad every other measure, you have about as much direction as a canned ham in a bowling alley.  And the music makes about as much sense as that image.

2)  Work on developing consistent inner rhythm, such that when, for instance, you enter an audition and go up to the pianist, and he asks what your tempo is for a song, you don’t hum/conduct something that is at least thirty clicks away from what you actually wind up doing when you open your mouth, thereby making your poor accompanist look like an asshole who is trying to sabotage you.  Foolish consistency may be the hobgoblin of little minds, to paraphrase Emerson, but smart consistency keeps the pianist from reaching for the pepper spray.

3)  Learn how to use a photocopier properly.  When you hand us your binder of art songs from Malaysia, be sure that the top or bottom staff (usually bottom, in my experience) isn’t cut off.  Chances are I don’t know these songs, and I’d be more comfortable with the notes the composer intended, rather than having to improvise a pentatonic left hand like some racist, even if the song is about how awesome Kuala Lumpur was in the year eight.  Or whenever.  So please: the “reduce” key is our friend.

4) It’s only an audition; there is no need to wear an outfit and accessories that can be seen from space.  (See something above about not drawing needless attention to oneself.)  If you want a more practical reason for this one, how about this:  your pianist will likely play more correct notes if he isn’t blinded by that diamond-festooned wedding dress that looks like Lady Gaga banged a lunar excursion module.  Similarly, the [judges/faculty/doctors] will heartily appreciate being able to see the [paper/laptop/anything] on which they’re going to want to write a big fat [yes/no/please kill me] for your [acceptance/win/commitment to the sanitarium].

4a)  While we’re on fashion, a note about glitter:

b)  Don’t.

c)  Why?

d)  It gets everywhere.

e)  Including, one time, inside my actual cornea, during a particularly intense pre-audition powwow about tempi.

f)  Okay, that last one was a lie, but still.  (See 4b.)

5) I know you’re likely nervous under all that mascara, but please BREATHE.  Not only will it calm you and enable you to get through a phrase (high notes notwithstanding), but it will also help your pianist to know when a sound might come out of your face which he must play a note or chord with.  You know, that whole “there’s another person in the room besides me” thing.  (I think it’s called “ensemble”.)

6)  Your pianist can likely read.  Not only music notes, but also, even, perhaps, words.  When we’re given a piece of music we’ve never seen before (or even one we have, but it’s been a while, or whatever), the first thing we do is scan for instructions from the composer: not just notes, of course (and key changes), but also words, like tempo changes, expressive markings, section markers, etc.  It’s enough that you feel the need to hum/gesticulate a wrong tempo to us at the beginning; there’s no real need to point to the “meno mosso” section and say “here slower”. (I’m familiar with the concept of “meno mosso) or (I swear this happened to me once) to point to “maggiore” and say, helpfully, “this is in major”.  Thanks, the notes already kinda told me that.  (And actually I’d like a word with the composer on that one:  you’re an idiot.  Stop confusing singers; they have enough on their plate, what with remembering things like how to eat and the phone number for the nail salon.)

6)  Do not glare at me if I don’t follow your every twitch.  I’m sight-reading.  Again, I’m on YOUR SIDE.  You know that Sondheim song about no one being alone?  I think it’s called “No One Is Alone”?  It’s like that.  Just chill out and go on.  I’ll apologize later, and it’s pretty much guaranteed that anyone listening will realize that it was my mistake and not yours.  Feeling the need to turn that deadly sunbeam of a gaze in my direction in the middle of (what passes for) a phrase because I didn’t quite match your 42nd attempt to hesitate and create a pre-barf situation before a downbeat will not only erode my probably-already-thin desire to help you not be a giant pain in the ass in your audition/jury/Oscars routine, but it will also send a clear message to those listening that you are the very thing you’d probably like people to avoid thinking you are.  High-maintenance is not a desirable quality, ummm…yeah, I’m going to say “pretty much ever” on that one.  Let’s just be nice.

In Memoriam

Since I’ll likely be dead by the time anyone wants to ask me any questions about this (look for telltale signs of glitter, and perhaps a scarf), I thought “in memoriam” might be more appropriate than “in conclusion”, but either way:  enough is enough.  Honestly, I learn something from everyone, even the divas, and I guess the world is spicier with you, but if you could maybe tone it down here and there, it would make my headache situation drastically improve.  Pretty please?  In any case, all of this, while perhaps containing some practical advice amidst a sea of sarcastic bitchery, is said with affection and in the spirit of helpfulness and fun.  By all means, be who you are and do what you do; just know that you are being watched.  And that the eyes watching you may occasionally roll.  And that those rolling eyes may be attached to fingers which – in addition to saving your butt (and, admittedly, sometimes inadvertently doing the opposite) in an audition – type-type-type away about you (if anonymously) on an opera blog.

Whether we like it or not, singers have a poor impression on people sometimes. Go forth and don’t be an idiot to your pianists.

For more information about Michael Sheppard, visit the following link: http://www.michaelsheppardmusic.com/

Baltimore Concert Opera presents: So You Think You Can Sing Opera?

The Baltimore Concert Opera holds its principal auditions in front of a live audience every year. So whatcha think about that? Too much like being on NBC’s “The Voice”, or is it actually a brilliant step towards creating a non-threatening audition situation while creating a buzz for the upcoming season, AAAAAnnnd considering what the audience looks/listens for in a singer? I think this could make for a really fascinating discussion. Please share your thoughts about this audition format in the comments section!

This year’s auditions take place on Monday, April 30th, and Tuesday, May 1st from 7:30-10:30pm at The Engineers Club in Mount Vernon, Baltimore. Here’s some more information from Baltimore Concert Opera:

“We find that having an audience present for our auditions really enhances the experience for the singers as well as for the audition panel.  We offer our audience a “behind the scenes” look into running an opera company, and we have a whole lot of fun along the way.  Audience reaction could actually play a role in casting future seasons!  Singers…this is way more fun than singing in a tiny room in New York City to two opera admins and a file cabinet…What a great way to peek inside the process of auditions from both the singer’s and company’s perspective!  Here is a chance for an aspiring singer to watch, and de-mystify the audition process.”

Please join us on Monday April 30th, and/or Tuesday, May 1st from 7:30-10:30pm at The Engineers Club in Mount Vernon. Tickets are just $10, available online at https://www.vendini.com/ticket-software.html?e=800f33abdb1395c49505e92f5d7201a8&t=tix , by calling 443.445.0226, or at the door if still available.

A select echelon of classically trained singers need never audition again. Then there’s the rest of the opera-singing universe.

Plenty of talented artists face a relentless tide of auditions for roles, awards, scholarships, coveted spots on training program rosters, etc. It’s the equivalent of the cold call for salespeople except that salespeople don’t have to study intensely for four, six, or eight years in highly competitive environments before they even pick up the phone.

Carol Kirkpatrick, author of Aria Ready

“Climbing the ladder to success as a singer takes perseverance, tenacity, fierce mental focus, and an absolute love for your art,” explains dramatic soprano Carol Kirkpatrick, author of ARIA READY: The Business of Singing, the All-New Second Edition of the Acclaimed Career Guide for Singers.

At the center of the ladder climb is the audition. That is, until singers have obtained enough expertise and industry prominence that word of mouth and their track records can get them hired. But that hardly makes auditioning a comfortable or natural process. Hearts race. Stomachs ties themselves in square knots. Hands shake and knees knock.

They won’t like us, we fear. If we audition poorly, they’ll tell everyone they know to never ever  hire us, or so we speculate, when feeling especially vulnerable or understandably paranoid.

For more singers than not, auditions are a necessary evil.

Are audition fees true evil?
It’s a given that singers who want to be heard will have to plunk down some dough. After several audition seasons, all that dough can accumulate, seemingly like loaves multiplying to feed the 5,000. While some artists find paying steep audition fees akin to evil incarnate, Kirkpatrick believes it has become an economic reality, especially for arts organizations. Kirkpatrick says, “Charging audition fees is a practical practice so that those doing the auditioning can afford the audition space , the accompanist, and the rest of the expenses incurred while creating this opportunity to hear singers in strategic cities around the U.S.”

Evil incarnate?
When auditioners layer unnecessary tension on top of an already stressful event, now that smacks of unwarranted evildoing.

One artist reports that a certain nameless opera company has a reputation for offering five-minute slots in front of an eccentric panelist who talks through the audition. When she went in to sing, she had been mentally prepared to be stopped short or distracted. She was not, however, prepared to hear someone yelling, “WHERE ARE THE PAPER CLIPS?” halfway through her aria.

Other singers reported that questions and discussions about their weight and or other physical attributes were introduced during the audition process, which sounds as painful as being told you have stretch marks while giving birth.

Prepare for the worst to do your best
Everyone with a stake in the audition process—artist, coach, auditioner—agrees that preparation helps singers mitigate the potential for failure—from preparing the sheet music to preparing the repertoire to preparing one’s instrument to preparing for the audition itself.

So assuming you are ready to audition, per Kirkpatrick, completing that all-important reality check, carefully evaluating where you are, not where you imagine yourself to be on the professional ladder, how do classically trained singers prepare themselves?

Rene Barbera, tenor

Tenor René Barbera won three first prizes in Plácido Domingo’s Operalia in 2011—for opera, zarzuela, and the audience prize, the first such artist to be the sole recipient of all three awards. He’s participated in some high stakes auditions and stresses the importance of eating healthy, getting a lot of sleep, and keeping yourself hydrated.

Barbera says, he “used to be more ritualistic.” In the past, he had to be awake five to six hours before an audition, have a hot bath, and use steaming towels. Meals were a precise ritual, too—a whole wheat bagel with hot ham and cheese.  “Now, I just make sure I’ve eaten at least two hours before an audition—you don’t want to burp while you’re singing—and consumed a lot of water. For auditions, do whatever puts you in a comfortable place.”

For baritone Craig Philip Price, who has a master’s in voice from the Manhattan School of Music, auditions are about keeping things as normal as possible. “I don’t do anything out of the ordinary other than resting my voice,” Price says, “and avoiding diet decisions that could cause trouble.”

Even with proper attention to rest, food, and water, other things can compromise one’s ability to audition well.

Despite hydrating and eating healthy, Barbera once had a bad audition for reasons he failed to anticipate. “After singing an entire opera, I went out with cast members after a show the night before an audition,” Barbera says, “and spent too much time talking over the noise in the bar.”

Prepare more than your repertoire
Let’s assume you’ve  tended to your all-important instrument and didn’t spend the previous evening screaming over a bar band. Good for you. But don’t forget to practice your entrance—your physical entrance, not where you begin singing in your music.

Bill Florescu, General Director of Milwaukee’s Florentine Opera Company, hosts a blog called The Opera Audition (http://theoperaaudition.blogspot.com) that’s chock full of wisdom for those auditioning. He’s on record saying that many talented singers neglect how they walk into the room. However, potential employers are already judging them at that point, before they’ve tucked themselves into the crook of the piano and before one note has even left their lips. He also offers as fine a checklist as I’ve seen in a post called  “Singer Training Workshop,” which offers seven nitty gritty audition tips for opera singers.

Ellen Frohnmayer, an assistant professor of voice at Loyola University, also advises adopting a positive outlook before you walk in. “Be glad to be there. Introduce yourself and be friendly. Look your panelists in the eye and shake their hands, and they won’t notice your nerves.”

“And no matter how you did,” Frohnmayer warns, “walk out with the same confidence that you walked in with,” which needs to be at least considered and visualized if not physically practiced before auditioning, the general consensus being, that with every choice that’s yours to make, show the panelists who you are instead of who you are not.

Feed your head
You can prevent the mind games auditions can play on you by getting a leg up on them.

Price likens his artistic journey thus far to a marathon, not a sprint. “By not giving the audition too much extra significance, “Price explains, “it avoids putting too much pressure on the moment and making a challenging  situation an impossible success.”

When Barbera was singing in Moscow for the Operalia finals last summer, people kept telling him he looked calm.  “I didn’t realize I was calm. It was more that I was happy to be there,” Barbera says, which clicks in with Frohnmayer’s advice to look like you want to be auditioning and not like an Eeyore retread.

“Winning Operalia was really a matter of putting everything in perspective,” Barbera says.” I told myself that I’m not going out there to cure cancer or AIDS. The worst that can happen is that I make a fool of myself.”

As far as Price can tell, hard work and “keeping your head high seem to be the best ‘secrets to success.”

Carol Kirkpatrick features an inspired quote by Carlos Castaneda on her website (http://www.ariaready.net) that sums up the mental aspects of preparing and competing in many professions, singing included: “We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same.”
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Gale Martin is the author of the opera-themed contemporary novel DON JUAN IN HANKEY, PA published by Booktrope in 2011, available in print and ebook at Amazon.com. Despite the book being filled with opera singers facing myriad tribulations, none of them had to audition for the roles they sing, because Martin didn’t want to subject them to the requisite pain and suffering. She blogs at Operatoonity.com.

My Last Duchess and The Clever Mistress making NYC premieres on April 23rd and 30th!

by Melissa Wimbish

In just a few days, Cutting Edge Concerts will present a double-bill of modern opera from composers Robert Sirota and Theodore Wiprud. This program got me thinking…premieres like this must be somewhat equivalent to an audition for composers, right? Sitting in the audience hoping people don’t say anything like, “This really sucks”or, “Wake me up when it’s over”… I think I would just die. But, this is the composer’s courageous way of life and without it, there would be just be a bunch of weirdos improvising on stage all the time and that would get kind of annoying after awhile.

Join Operagasm in wishing Mr. Sirota and Mr. Wiprud along with Cutting Edge Concerts, a wonderful NYC premiere on April 23rd and 30th! Check out the first written interview with Mr. Sirota:

Your opera The Clever Mistress (1988) makes its New York premiere in just under a week. What are you doing to celebrate? Is this the first time you’ll be seeing it since its original performance in Crete? How does this production compare? What has the passing of over two decades influenced as far as your perception of the work? 

Although TCM has had 3 or 4 productions since its premiere.  I have only seen one of them, back in 1994. While the original production in Crete was great, the upcoming New York production is more carefully conceived,  and I have had the opportunity to add an aria for Rosa, the heroine of the piece.  With the help of Tom Dulack, our brilliant director, who wrote the libretto for My Last Duchess, we have made a  few tweaks and additions that give the opera more emotional resonance.

Describe your role in the production process. Do you think that modern composers of opera should take more leadership in the production aspects of these undertakings? 

The composer treads a fine line in any opera project. You  must do everything possible to familiarize the director, conductor and singers with what is essential in the piece. As a collaborator,  you must also listen to your artistic partners and make changes and adjustments as necessary to come up with a total vision that incorporates everyone’s best thinking.

Please talk about reaching into the past to find inspiration for a new opera and how it speaks to our modern culture. Would you discuss the significance of the Renaissance era and its influence during your composition process? 

This opera is a comedy that takes place in the 14th century. I have had a great deal of fun appropriating medieval /renaissance material into my writing, including a processional lauda,  an imitative motet, the dies irae, and a great deal of ersatz modal writing.

When working with a libretto that also belongs to you, do you miss the collaboration, or do you find it to be a relief sometimes?

Writing my own libretto was born of necessity. I was given only three  months to compose the opera in 1988, so I had no time to search for a collaborator. I was compelled to keep the language simple and straightforward, and to stick to dialogue that advanced the story line. I have written one other libretto, to my children’s opera The Tailor of Gloucester.  I have also collaborated with librettists. I like both processes, but  they are very different.

When you write for voices, what do you consider? Are you typically writing with a voice in mind, or does it vary? Who are some of your favorite singers? 

I always write for a specific voice, not for some voice type. For that matter, I always try to compose for a specific instrumentalist, not just an instrument. Some of my favorite singers: Susan Graham, Thomas Hampson, Dolora Zajick, Stephanie Blythe.

As a composer, can you offer some thoughts about the state of music in our culture and the hopes that you have for its future in our society? That’s not meant to be a terribly epic question, but you are welcome to answer epically if you have time.

We are in a time of great transition and upheaval in the music world. Everything is being re-thought – what we listen to, how concerts are programmed and produced, how we make money from performing and recording, who are audience is —-. This all presents enormous challenges and great opportunities. This is why musicians need to be entrepreneurs on their own behalf. I am actually very sanguine about the future.

Does the process of mounting a full-scale opera discourage you from creating more within this genre?

No.

What are the aspects of the opera culture and music industry in the United States that encourage or discourage you from composing new opera? 

Opera has always been  the most difficult thing to pull off, both artistically and logistically. I am not discouraged.

Are there any jokes about composers that are favorites of yours that you would like to share? You’re also welcome to share jokes about other subjects, but it would be nice to hear a joke about composers.

Don’t know any, except the one about Beethoven, in his grave, decomposing.

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The Decameron of Boccaccio is the greatest trove of Renaissance-era stories, many of them bawdy. One of the most charming seductions in the whole collection is found in The Clever Mistress. Composer Robert Sirota has composed a comic opera to his own libretto based on this story of feminine initiative.

My Last Duchess is one of the great dramatic monologues, written by Robert Browning in 1842. It conjures up the splendor of the Italian Renaissance in the person of a sophisticated and monstrously proud Duke. In Ferrara, around 1550, the Duchess Lucrezia died young, and poisoning was suspected. Her actual portrait was the basis of Browning’s poem, and now of the opera My Last Duchess, composed by Theodore Wiprud to a libretto by Tom Dulack, derived completely from poems by Browning.

Now these two Renaissance-inspired operas are premiering as a double bill presented by Cutting Edge Concerts, at Symphony Space in New York City. There will be two performances, on April 23 and April 30, Mondays at 7:30 PM.

The tragedy of My Last Duchess – composed as a modern take on the great Italian madrigalists; the farce of The Clever Mistress – composed as a cheeky take on both medieval and Renaissance music: the two make a perfect pair. And when some cast members take roles in both, the connections become priceless.

Victoria Bond, the leader of Cutting Edge Concerts, will conduct. Award-winning playwright and director Tom Dulack is directing a full production featuring dance. Tyler Learned has designed the production and lighting. Matthew Galek is creating a video to promote future performances. The cast is out of this world. These two evenings promise to be unforgettable.

To purchase tickets for the operas, please visit Cutting Edge Concerts.

by Eldeen Pickett

Ansel Adams, a truly visionary photographer, once said, “Not everybody trusts paintings but people believe photographs.”

As a photographer, I am often privileged to provide head shots for professional actors, vocalists, realtors, and others who need a fun, accurate representation of who they are. Being represented by a good and unique head shot is vitally important for a professional actor or vocalist to rise up and be noticed over the competition. Let’s face it, a head shot is a mini résumé for an actor – not only does it need to be the best reflection of who you are individually, it needs to be more flattering, intriguing, and compelling than the other applicants’ résumés. Your head shot is your first audition. Here are some tips for getting that perfect head shot:

Find a capable photographer
Using a web search to find your photographer is risky business. I have seen work from many ‘professional’ photographers that makes me wonder why in the world they think they can charge money for what they do. Your photographer needs to understand his or her camera, how lighting affects the photo, which angles are most flattering, effective post-processing techniques, and most importantly, how to make you feel comfortable and natural. Educate yourself on current and reasonable pricing. A normal price for a portrait session can range from $300 – $700, which may or may not include the rights to print the photos. Try finding your photographer using referrals from friends, other actors, casting directors, etc. Whatever you do, don’t hand your point-and-shoot to your best friend and ask her to take a few shots for your portfolio. A photographer that has experience doing head shots is the first step toward the perfect one.

Your head shot should be current
Your head shot should look like you do – not like you did 10 years ago. Every few years, new portraits should be taken. It should also be modern and refreshing! Photography is taking a new turn with closer cropping, vibrant colors, and unique poses. You don’t want to look like the last gig you had was from 1983.

Reflect, don’t recreate
As simple as it sounds, your head shot should be a true reflection of who you are, not who you can become after a trip to the glamour salon. Directors don’t want to be surprised by what you actually look like when you walk in the room.

Choose appropriate clothing and backgrounds
If you want your viewer to remember your lovely smile and sparkling eyes, beware of loud patterns and obnoxious jewelry for your headshot. Choose a solid color or simple pattern that suits your personality without being distracting. Choose a simple background as well, but feel free to add color! Black and white backgrounds always work, but why not try a hot pink or brilliant green background to help you stand out.

Give your viewer something to think about
For professional models, poses and facial expressions come naturally, but for the rest of us, posing can be quite challenging. The best thing to do is study other photos and practice in the mirror. Keep your face and body position natural, while maintaining that ‘intriguing’ element in your shots. Smile with your eyes, even when you strike a serious pose. Give your photographer plenty of variety. Photographers love ‘intense’ subjects. Give your audience a story with your eyes and smile they simply can’t put down.

Here are some beautiful shots from Eldeen’s gallery to get your creativity brewing!

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Eldeen Pickett is a wife and mother of two residing in Brighton, Colorado. She graduated with a degree in Choral Education and currently teaches piano and voice lessons out of her home. Eldeen started her own photo card business called Photo Card Chef and is also an extremely gifted photographer. You can view more of Eldeen’s photos on her website Lilac Photography and view her recommendations for photographers by clicking here.