Don’t Quit Your Day Job

The stereotype of the young and struggling artist always seems to include the demoralizing day-job, usually boring temping or grueling restaurant work. And while many coópera: POM artists have worked in either or both of these situations, a young performer’s path is usually more complex (and more interesting) than the old story of years of tedious employment until one moment of breakout success – it just doesn’t fit as well in a movie montage. Many of us have found that doing a variety of things at the same time gives us the chance to explore all the aspects of ourselves, to be more well-rounded individuals and ultimately, perhaps, even better artists. It is a situation born of necessity but which can ultimately bear creative fruit in our lives and lead us in surprising directions. I’ve read that the average person will have three different careers over the course of a working life; we just choose to have those all at once.

Obviously, some musicians pay their rent by piecing together many different jobs related to music, such as teaching, church and synagogue jobs, and various random gigs. Although this lifestyle can mean no medical benefits and unpredictable income, it also has the advantages of variety and constant exposure to music, and, often, flexibility. Sometimes, these can become far more than just ways to pay the rent, especially for those who find a sense of community in religious worship or a passion for teaching: not everyone is cut out for it, but for someone who loves music, what could be better than to pass that on to others? Of course, there are dozens of careers other than performing that involve music or helping other musicians, such as music therapy, Alexander Technique, music criticism, arts administration and classical radio. Another potential benefit of these careers is that the artist might work with supervisors and colleagues who understand and support his or her passion for performing as well.

Some artists choose to maintain the most boring possible day jobs, in order not to be distracted from their true focus. But for others, employment outside of music can offer opportunities to explore other interests, and this can be quite fulfilling. We’ve had friends and performing colleagues work in law, finance, advertising, linguistics, technical theatre, non-profit work, childcare... I could go on. Depending on the person, the situation, and the position, some of these can be very rewarding matches. Of course, most of us realize that, were we to be offered our “big break,” we would have to leave even the most satisfying of day jobs immediately, which can be an uncomfortable knowledge to live with. How can you put down roots knowing you might have to pull them up at any time? We cross that bridge when we get to it.

There are artists that find creative ways to provide their own flexible and interesting employment: some singer friends in Baltimore started a real estate business to support themselves and their families while still having time for opera. On the other hand, for some people, these interesting day jobs make it tempting to leave music altogether – and, if that’s the way life takes you, then why not? One of our amazing orchestra members left music to go to law school after working as a paralegal. Music can always be a part of your life, but some people end up finding it equally if not more rewarding to perform without the pressure of it earning your bread and butter. (Then, of course, the challenge becomes finding the time to devote to your art, but it is certainly not impossible.)

Our society, until recently, has tended to value specialization, not Renaissance men and women. But, throughout history, the artist has always had to become good at many things. Think of the conductor, who usually begins with a primary instrument, and often ends up composing, teaching and/or coaching as well. Music encourages a wide range of skills and interests. Some economists are saying that the current economic recession may be guiding us toward a workforce that is less specialized, where jacks-of-all-trades are the most valuable because they are the most adaptable. More and more people are developing hyphenated careers out of necessity or choice. Perhaps this new societal trend will mean that the adaptable young artist will no longer seem like a salmon swimming upstream.

There is more than one way to make a life in music. Each musician finds his or her own way, sometimes following a direct and straightforward path, sometimes through one that is more meandering and roundabout. Some of us might end up having hyphenated careers for most of our lives, whether by choice or chance. And, for some of us, that might be the most interesting life we could imagine.

Catch 22

As young singers, we're always intrigued to read articles in the mainstream media regarding opera and opera singers. While we often have bones to pick with some of the statements on the world of opera by the New York Times, we appreciate their willingness to pull back the curtain and see how things really look behind the scenes. Sunday's article, Hire That Hot Tenor Years in Advance, and Hope for the Best, by Anthony Tommasini, was no exception.

As the title suggests, Tommasini explores the trend of casting popular singers years in advance, which leads to inevitable cancellations due to health issues (vocal or physical) or vocal changes. Although these situations involve many different players (the popular singers offered these roles, their managers, the administration who offers the contracts, the audiences who buy tickets hoping to see the star of the moment, the –often younger—singers who end up filling in if the stars cannot fulfill their contracts), this article tells the story from the administrators’ point of view, mainly through the eyes of Peter Gelb, new general manager of the Metropolitan Opera.

Newsflash: Voices change, from year to year, sometimes month to month. Voices change in unexpected ways while we mature and age. A woman's voice sometimes changes after giving birth. These changes can be good or bad or neutral. Some singers might show gradual signs of vocal strain which later turn into full-blown vocal issues, whereas other problems might occur overnight, as in the case of soprano Carol Vaness, who damaged a vocal cord screaming to escape a burning car after an accident. (She —and her voice— are now fine.)

In a perfect world, it might be a wiser idea NOT to book singers more than a year or so in advance of a performance, but that's just not possible if opera houses are competing for what they believe is the top tier of singers.

Second thought: Some of these problems could perhaps be avoided if major opera houses had better vocal technique consultants involved in casting decisions. Too often these decisions seem to be based on audience popularity and made by administrators who are removed from the world of technique. Of course, audiences should have a say in these matters. Opera-lovers know what they like and companies need to be assured that their singers will help them fill the seats. But having more input from a vocal technician could help companies predict whether or not today's stars are singing in a sustainable manner.

Then there’s the fact that these last-minute cancellations offer the possibility for one of the more exciting narratives in the performing world: the young, last-minute replacement, who is offered the chance of a lifetime and bursts onto the scene in a triumphant debut. Young soprano Elaine Alvarez received her big break filling in for Angelina Gheorghiu at Chicago Lyric Opera in 2007, after some unprofessional behavior on Gheorghiu’s part. Soprano Erika Sunnegardh filled in for both Karita Mattila and Andrea Gruber within a span of a few weeks that same year. During Pavarotti's last few years of performing, opera houses everywhere still wanted him on their stages badly enough to prepare in advance for the possibilities of his frequent cancellations; this offered more than one young tenor a chance in the spotlight. So are these really opportunities in disguise?

The Met seems to be hoping for another success story in the featured vignette of this article. 31-year-old tenor Joseph Calleja has been tapped to take over the title role in The Tales of Hoffmann this coming year. The production was originally conceived three years ago to showcase Rolando Villazón, who is currently recovering from vocal surgery. As Tommasini points out, 31 is quite young for a tenor, and perhaps this particular casting is not a wise decision. But when the author says, of Calleja's recent portrayal of Alfredo in Traviata, "I still heard elements of a singer figuring out technical details," it gives us pause. Let's face it: As singers, we will be "figuring out technical details" for the rest of our lives. We are all in an endless process. (Let's go back to the newsflash: Voices change.)

Thus the age/vocal maturity conundrum: Young singers are rarely given chances to perform for professional companies, and yet, when given the chance, they're expected to be a “finished product.” If voices take longer to mature, when they finally reach that maturity, they are told they don't have enough professional experience on their resumes. It's a catch-22 that very few singers manage to escape.

However, kudos to this article for the benefit of the doubt it gives most of the featured singers: Instead of judging as divas or divos those who back out of performances, Tommasini recognizes that, as difficult as it can be for all involved, sometimes cancelling an engagement (or maybe accepting a last-minute one) is the wisest decision one can make. Regarding casting musical chairs in a recent production of Traviata, he writes, "in retrospect the artists involved knew what they were doing."

Believing that artists know what they're doing… How refreshing.

willkommen, bienvenue, welcome...

Come on in, kick off your shoes, and allow me to pour you a virtual glass of wine. Welcome to coópera: Project Opera of Manhattan's brand-spankin'-new blog, The Score.

Why "The Score"? Here are just a few of the dozens of meanings of the word "score":

• the pertinent facts; lowdown
• written representation of musical composition
• a successful move, stroke, remark
• a line drawn or scratched, often to mark a starting point
• to get by effort or merit; gain
• to win or enjoy credit, popularity, success
  

Seemed appropriate. While we're talking names, the new name of our venture, coópera, was chosen because it represents what we've wanted for this company from the beginning: a true cooperative effort, a community of young artists and audiences creating opera together without the usual walls between any of us. A community like this needs a common space to share ideas, insights, inspiration, stories and thoughts. We can't always be in the same physical space, and from the beginning our support has come from far and wide: from Connecticut to California; from Iowa to Indiana; from San Juan to San German, Puerto Rico; from Bolton Hill in Baltimore to Marble Hill in Manhattan... So we hope that this blog can be that common space for us, a way to stay in touch and keep creating in-between productions, and a place where those far away who might not be able to make every performance can still be a part of the process.

So, to get the ball rolling and welcome you to our virtual common space, I thought I'd share a few POM anecdotes that have to do with our actual space, our apartment.

When we moved into Marble Hill in 2005, we had no thoughts about starting our own opera company, nor could we have ever imagined how serendipitous our choice of building would be once we did. Since then, our neighbors have included Kathleen Reynolds, our amazing publicist; Nancy Sylbert, our fabulous graphic designer and assistant director for Lucretia; Ken Howard, world-famous photographer who shot Lucretia before having to jet back to the Met; and several donors, including a fellow opera singer who donated fabric for our costumes.

During our first season, summer 2006, all of our musical rehearsals took place in our apartment, around our upright piano. There were frequent walks to Baskin-Robbins for post-rehearsal ice cream. Friends came in and out to help build set pieces. At least two of our cast members brought parents to come sit in on rehearsals. (Our artists' parents have been some of our most ardent supporters.) Our friend David (left) painted scenery on our living room floor -- I think we still have a spot or two of black on our ceiling from those panels!

We never knew how many people could fit in our one-bedroom apartment until our second season, 2007, when, over the course of our production of Magic Flute, we hosted our director, Chris, and his wife / our choreographer / third boy, Rachael, from Columbus; our Monostatos, Andy, from Chicago; and Randall and Sara, our conductor and his wife, from Baltimore. Somehow we had enough room for everyone to have a bed, but the single bathroom was a bit of a stretch.

Since we know that we can never pay any of our young artists what they are truly worth, we have often tried to make up for it by feeding them before rehearsal or during breaks. Laura's home-cooked meals, especially her famous arroz con pollo, have become production favorites -- when we show up to rehearsal bringing the caldero that's bigger than us, people know they're in for a treat.

coópera has helped make a real home and community for us, as it has become an artistic community for those who collaborate with us. More of their stories will be coming soon.

So make yourself at home in this new space. Tell us who you are. And stay a while -- everyone knows the music only gets louder as the party goes on...