Anatomy of a Singer: Part 3, Art and Death

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Anatomy of a Singer: Part 2, Madonna and Me

The multiple directions I traveled ended up leading to great discoveries. I loved opera in small doses, and I prefer art songs, which are short pieces often grouped together presented in a recital or chamber setting. I also got extensive experience as a producer when I led a collaborative effort, The Opera Project, with classmates and faculty to produce a one-act opera for children and tour it in Ann Arbor and eventually throughout Metro Detroit. It was interesting to realize that my greatest thrill in school was not on a stage, but watching a performance come together behind the scenes, received by an enthusiastic crowd of 7-9 year olds and their parents.

Fast forward to today. I still perform and teach regularly. After working with a number of different teachers, I have found one whose patience and technique has helped unlock many of the mysteries of my vocal struggles. She, along with a close singer friend gently remind me that a major barrier to my development at this point is finding time for legitimate practice and release of the biggest enemy to singers, tension.

Tension, though painful, has been a reliable companion. It’s static, solid nature has helped me muscle through the wretched pain of my father’s death; the euphoric plunge into marriage; the pressure of simultaneous work and school commitments.

I no longer admit to wanting to sing to crowds at illustrious venues, though I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t jump at such an opportunity. I think of the great Lorraine Hunt-Lieberson, a woman who I plucked out as my role model after first seeing her perform. I was inspired by her circuitous route to singing fame, emerging in her thirties after working as a professional violist. Her story resonated with me, late in my college career, feeling entirely unprepared to go to graduate school for voice and enter the cutthroat opera world. I simply knew neither I nor my voice was ready, but her example told me it was okay to wait. She died in 2006 of cancer and is credited with major contributions towards advancing the arts of chamber opera and new music.

I’m nearing my personal stop-watch of when I said I’d enter serious singing again. I don’t presume I could attempt Ms. Hunt-Lieberson’s fame, but I refuse to let go of the desire to master the art of singing. I still believe the fledgling thoughts of that young girl singing Imagine. The world will listen to me if I’m singing.

Can you hear it?