Keep it alive! - Roderick Williams

What a pleasure it is to sit down in an audience, having no expectations and be completely blown away!

(OK, I probably should have done more research into who Roderick Williams is, as it happens I only dug deep enough to find that he has sung the songs I intended to take into the class, in a BBC Radio 3 documentary about Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen which I proceeded to listen to and thoroughly enjoy)

What blew me away? It's hard to pinpoint. Often after a recital you come out with strong reactions to a particular piece, or thinking 'those top notes blew my mind', or other such nonsense. This was different, as the whole package was so appealing. A singer who is extremely likeable from the moment he walks onstage, with so much ease in his technique that he can seemingly do anything with his voice in an effortless way (so important in lieder, and it was a predominately lieder recital), and all this backed up by a responsive and supportive accompaniment. How often do you go to a vocal recital where half the audience are singing students, and hear them whooping like crazy at the end?

This was followed by the masterclass, which was inspiring. Again, due largely to the fact that Roderick Williams is so unbelievably likeable, which makes you sit on the edge of your seat and engage fully with everything he says, all of which is valid, helpful, and well-meant. As always, some of the points raised (italics are used not necessarily as direct quotations, but close paraphrases):

Regarding auditions: The panel make their mind up in the first couple of bars you sing. Despite knowing this, remember to keep everything alive all the time, you may sway them back in your favour. This is doubly true in the case of pieces with a da capo (and came up when working one).

The more you can get into the language, the shape of it, the more exciting the performance.

When singing with a copy (oratorio for instance), be careful when you glance at your music, as you risk losing the personal connection with the audience.

German as a language contains a lot the information at the end of sentences, so you must make sure to sing through to the end. Keep it alive to the end!

Read through the text on its own, with all the repetitions, to see how hard you have to work to keep each repeated word alive.

It's good to take a step back and have a look at the words a composer had to work with and try to see why he did what he did (re repetitions, melody, harmony, etc).

Sad-faced singing is a bad habit to have (ultimately a bit boring and dead). Try to start with something that isn't your Matthew Passion face.

We want to see the same person singing as the one we see after you finish. This refers to that magical moment when the singer stops singing and relaxes. All interpretation, acting, etc are valid, but an audience wants to see you as relaxed as you are when you are just yourself, so not your 'singer-self'. This was said to me and rang very true, I wish I could be that relaxed person who has just finished singing throughout my performance, and I feel I got a taste of it later in the class, but it's a tough thing to get working, and even Roderick admitted he's still not quite got it yet (and yet in hindsight it was something evident during his recital, that there was no feeling of 'now I'm singing, now I'm talking, now I'm relaxing', and that contributed a lot to the sheer likeability of the performance).

Take the poem where you want, stop thinking about the technique. We don't want to see it working. This of course only works if you have the technique, but once you do, it's time to let go and focus on keeping the performance alive.

If you just speaking the poem is engaging and moving, we don't want the music to detract from that, it should enhance it.

Exit-sign-singing. Fixing your gaze on one point, or staring out into the middle distance may be a safe option (you feel like nothing can touch you), but it's a dead and boring one. Try not to overdo it.

Speak the words of the song as if for radio: intimate, slow, painting every word, getting every ounce of colour out of each syllable. Keep the audience hooked with the sounds of the words in your singing.

At the moment you're giving us a 3 on the dial... which as we all know goes all the way up to 11. A great quote about being fearless with the intensity of interpretation and engagement with the text, and I personally greatly enjoyed the reference to the film This is Spinal Tap.

You need to have the audacity to stand up in front of an audience and do whatever it takes to grab their attention!

See what you did? As you were saying the poem you walked up to us, you wanted to speak while being in and among us. That's how personal we need to make songs, despite being on a stage or way at the back by the piano.

When you walk onstage, before you even start singing, look around at every single person in the audience. They will like you for it! This is a tip given to Roderick when he was playing Papageno. It obviously works for building an instant connection with the audience and pays into his likeability as a performer. Wouldn't necessarily work for every operatic character though ;)

People always ask how much acting to do in auditions and I always reply: I have no idea!

For a lot of people (audition panels and even, in a strange way, audiences) our arias are unfortunately about one or two notes, and what those people don't want to see is our fear. The only way to negotiate this is to actually have no fear of these notes.

Whatever the director has you doing, even if you're immobile, in your mind every word, every thought has a specific direction and intention. Keep it alive! This may be done (in concert or audition scenarios) by running a film of a more active staging in your head while you sing. However, you can't really do this convincingly if you don't know the meaning of each and every word.

Be prepared! He told us a story of a production where despite being contracted to know their roles from memory on the first day of rehearsals (which is industry standard these days) some of the principals didn't. Don't be that person! There were also singers who knew their own lines, complete with translations, but hadn't bothered to translate things that were said to them by other characters, and so didn't react appropriately onstage. That's not what we do! This job isn't about sitting about waiting for your cues... It's amazing how often this mini-lecture on preparation comes up, and yet these situations keep happening (even in professional opera houses apparently). I can only say, I've come close to 'being that person' once, and it is an absolutely dreadful feeling (for me, at least) and I will not let myself come that close to it ever again (others obviously don't get that feeling, otherwise these situations wouldn't keep popping up all over the operatic world).

The masterclass ended on a heart-warming note:

Bye, and I'll see you on the stage in a couple of years!

What a great sentiment to end on... but I'll spoil it for everyone, because the reference to Spinal Tap inspired me so much, that I want to share part of my favourite scene from that film with you all (it is the one about the dial, so it is relevant to the rest of this post!):

Perfection is already here, dear! - Kathryn Harries

As promised, here is a summary of our session with Kathryn Harries, Director of the National Opera Studio.

I think it's fair to say that all of us found the session engaging and very interesting. There were a fair number of us to get through, but the difference in sound she was able to coax out of some people in such a limited timeframe was immense! As is always the case, we all got told the same set of things (after all, as Kathryn Harries said, there are only a couple of elements to this whole singing thing), with everyone having an extra issue or two of their own. Luckily, none of the remarks she made were new, we get them all the time from our teachers and coaches, and we're all works in progress. It is however nice to hear a new take on familiar issues, and sometimes a new way of working, if only for 20 minutes, sparks a change, a new feeling that we can latch onto and then (fingers crossed!) reproduce.

What a strange profession! We spend more time training than doctors! Every singer has gone through the hands of an army of specialists (teachers, coaches, masters, directors, choreographers, etc.), usually spending a fortune on it in the process, and the truth is it never stops. The voice changes with age, experience, repertoire, and you're always learning... Which is odd, when you consider how organic singing is, even sustaining the volume and stamina needed for opera (Kathryn Harries pointed out that babies can scream tirelessly for hours on end, because they have proper support built in).

In any case, for the singers out there reading this, here are some notes from the class (pardon the chaotic order):

You can't raise the soft palette while singing. It happens on the in-breath, so be mindful of this when breathing before a phrase where it may be needed.

Better to use positive instructions. So rather than think: don't tighten the jaw, think: relax the jaw. Negatives cause stress and tension.

Wherever you sing in your voice, you can always sing softly easily if you raise your soft palette.

When you breathe, you prepare the space for all the notes you have to sing, accommodating for the highest.

Allow a breath, rather than take a breath. This is about relaxing your stomach muscles to allow your guts to move out of the way for your descending diaphragm. At the same time your ribs should swing out as a result of the air filling your lungs.

The order of play (so priorities in thinking) and which body parts take part in tackling a particular step:

1. Breath.

2. Voice.

3. Vowel. (tongue)

4. Consonant. (tongue, lips, teeth)

So you have your breath, space, and vowel ready before you even think of how to make the first consonant! An exercise she showed us involved us singing the following on a note in the middle of the voice: a consonant followed by a shadow vowel (never mind the vowel, but a well produced, supported consonant with masses of space behind it ready to sing), a rolled R (to relax ye olde tongue) and an ɛ vowel (an 'open e' as in the English word 'bed'). It would be something like this: b(uh) rrreee, b(uh) rrreee, b(uh) rrreee, b(uh) rrreee, brrreee. And you can (and should) go through all the consonants with this exercise.

You can't drive your voice forward, you have to invite it forward.

Finishing notes tail upwards. If you go into head voice on a diminuendo, it's secure and 'you can go [wheee]' (very funny, very quiet high-pitched sound was produced at this point)

Support is a funny feeling. It's a bit like both pushing and pulling at the same time. If it just feels like: 'tuck in', then nothing, then 'tuck in', then nothing... then it's not really support. There has to be a constant connection.

Your speaking voice in introductions should be as close as possible to your singing voice: position, breathing, support, resonance. This prepares you for singing, and more importantly there's a chance the audience will hear and understand what you're saying.

Practice runs slowly, then think of them in groups.

Your intention starts as you breathe. Or even before (as Dominic Wheeler said in Banff... See?! I remember things!)

You need enough breath to carry the intention through the phrase. 'You started well, but then went to la-la-land for singers.'

Perfection is already here, dear! We just need to learn to access it consistently... This was the nicest thing she said to me, by the way, after what I felt was a grueling ordeal for both of us (everyone else in the room thought she liked me, funny thing: watching something and being in the thick of it... I do hope my friends were right!).

Have THAT sound when you breathe in. Don't look for your sound once you start singing.

Fill your mouth with air, swing (your ribs) and sing.

Your sound feels like a column that the melody moves up and down in.

If your eyebrows are down, so is your soft palette.

We don't lead with consonants, remember the order of play: breath, voice, vowel, consonant.

Make sure your shoulders get wider as you sing. Keeps the sound alive, stops it collapsing with your body.

You're the centre of our attention, so be proud! Take the space!

We never stop for breath.

Both vowels and consonants happen above the top teeth.

Regarding nerves: Nobody made you do it! You can be nervous, but don't be self-indulgent with it.

Right, I can see you all there now! (I'm talking to the singers, of course) You've read these and thought 'Well, obviously! Mneh!'. Now go through them again, think hard at each one and answer honestly: Do I do that? All the time? Even on a bad day? Could I do more?

A glimpse of what the future may hold?

This week saw college hosting the National Opera Studio for a short series of recitals, workshops and a gala concert with the WNO Orchestra. This was the first attempt at so close a collaboration between the NOS and RWCMD, and initial feedback seems to suggest we may expect this to happen again next year, and maybe even grow into a larger project.

I can only speak for myself and say how I felt it went and what I got out of it. I can also only hope the NOS Trainees felt welcome and didn't find working with us too much of a chore. From my point of view it was interesting to see what might be in store for those of us lucky enough to progress to studying at the Studio in a couple of years' time. I suppose all these thoughts started when we saw the first lunchtime recital on Wednesday, got to read the Trainees' biographies and relate them to what we could see and hear onstage. First impressions: average age is higher than on our course and most of them have already worked with professional opera companies, so perhaps a break between college and somewhere like the NOS is not a bad idea... Also, the voices on show were fairly securely established, in the sense that they were already focussing on repertoire specific to their voice types. More on that later.

After said recital we had a joint workshop, in which I was fortunate enough to sing. It felt slightly contrived at first, with neither cohort quite knowing what it was meant to be about, and with some visible differences in attitude and approach, but under Alma's guidance it turned into an enjoyable ice-breaking session, complete with all sorts of inappropriate banter. The nice thought for me personally was that I didn't feel vastly inferior (self-centered approach, I know, but let's be honest: we all compare ourselves to our superiors, peers, etc). It also got us talking to the guys from the Studio, which was good.

We then had an informal recital in the Foyer, which generated some positive feedback from the assembled audience. How about an uplifting quote: 'You know, apart from them being older, there isn't that big a difference between the two groups.'

After that was a fascinating Q&A session with people from WNO (the Director of Artistic Administration, Head of Music Staff, and Casting Administrator) about auditions, what it's like to work for WNO, etc.

The following day saw the Studio gang rehearsing with the orchestra, which gave us the opportunity to work with the Director of the NOS: Kathryn Harries. I promise to write about that class, complete with notes from her that perhaps my singer readers will find useful, but I'll do that in a separate post.

Friday was the big night, the gala concert. I have to say, having heard them on Wednesday, backed by the incredible WNO Orchestra with some inspiring baton-work from Stuart Stratford, the Trainees upped their game and gave a great performance. Again, they were all shown in repertoire specifically chosen for their voices, and had the opportunity to shine, an opportunity most of them made the best of. This did make for a bit of a same-y programme, but the concert was short enough to not be boring. After the concert we retired to the bar, where some schmoozing took place, however exhausted as I was after the half-week of being under pressure (or at least perceived or self-inflicted pressure) to measure up to the NOS singers (I have to say, this is all in my insecure head, the guys themselves are a great bunch, very supportive and easy-going), I quickly decided to withdraw to what we affectionately call 'the dark side', which means I left the posh theatre bar and passed through the keycard-locked doors to our cheap and cheerful student bar.

There I met up with the Opera'r Ddraig gang who had just finished rehearsals and after the bar closed we headed into town for one last quiet drink in the Bunk House (my favourite place in Cardiff). To our surprise it wasn't long before the entire NOS team ended up there as well! And I have to say, it was a fantastic end to a difficult week. No pressure, a chance to talk over a drink, everyone still buzzing after the concert... Good times!

From talking with the NOS cohort, it is obvious that the Studio is a great springboard for a career, but has to be timed well. The programme is incredibly intensive, quite short (only 9 months), so really it's vital that you know you can handle working in the profession before you even apply, because over the course of their time at the Studio, the singers are heard by everyone who is anyone in the UK operatic industry. It's vital you have the stamina to deliver at all times, and also to have a clear vision of what you want to do, or what your voice is able to do, what roles you will be going for. Because of the exposure you really want to be able to work straight away. Of course, nothing is guaranteed... In any case, the simple fact of getting through the auditions process should mean that you have what it takes. But there are always exceptions, and best not to be one of them, which is why I think it's better to give it a lot of thought and prepare a plan for yourself beforehand, rather than taking a punt at auditioning. Of course, there are only 12 places, so while you're planning, better prepare a plan B. And C, and... You get the idea.

On a personal note, my 'conversation of the week' was with a tenor who until a year ago had been a baritone. He told me what the change had been like, why he left it so late, and also compared himself to me (that comparison had been made a couple of times before by other people as well, which is why I was so glad to see him in Bunk House and have a nice chat with him) and offered the best advice he could: be careful, patient, and don't do anything because people tell you you're a tenor. Let the voice decide.

So bearing that in mind, maybe I shouldn't audition for NOS until the voice has decided ;)

What it's all about

Moving away from the somewhat depressing nature of my previous post, I would just like to say that rejections aside, this week has been amazingly good!

Why the change in attitude? There's nothing like performance therapy! Yesterday I had the good fortune to sing a concert with some phenomenal colleagues (both in terms of talent and fun) for an incredibly encouraging and responsive audience. Anyone who has an opportunity to perform in the Beulah United Reformed Church's concerts: count yourselves lucky! You just can't beat the atmosphere there. I've been lucky enough to sing there twice now, and both times were a confidence-boosting, rewarding experience.

To those of you who are reading this and thinking 'Who is writing this sickly-sweet drivel and what has he done with the jaded, cynical Jan we all know and love?': well, a great concert will do that to you. I'm sure I'll be back to my old self pretty soon, but for now, let me have some satisfaction ;)

Four doors shut, another one... well, I'm still waiting on that one ;)

My first week back has been one of exciting work, a very rewarding short recording project, a nice series of catch-ups, but mostly this week seems to have been about rejection. In quick succession all of the responses from the auditions I had last term came back negative. I won't lie, I take these things quite hard, even though statistically speaking I should be used to it by now.

There are however thoughts that put it all in perspective, and I choose to list these here for future reference, in case circumstances change and they don't come to me as quickly and easily as they have this week (thanks to the unique holidays I had):

- I am amazingly fortunate to be doing what I do (however much I may like to complain from time to time ;) )

- I have had a year of some success (2011 couldn't last forever unfortunately).

- I am still in college, so have time and it will be a period of growth.

- There are other opportunities out there.

- Worst case scenario I will have summer holidays!

- I do have something to offer, it's just that my strongest points aren't immediately apparent in an audition (could use some tips on how to put across conscientious, gets on well with colleagues, etc to a panel!)

- Getting used to rejection without equating it to failure is a necessary professional skill, as is patience.

- There's one more, ask me about in person if you can ;)

How about some random pictures to lift the mood? A reminder of a unique Christmas, home, dear friends, and generally things that matter:

Kraków Christmas market

A half-day with my brother

Off to find signal during our New Year's retreat

How does the opera singer relax? By making music, of course...

It's been a while since I posted anything, which is understandable, as I haven't had anything 'singery' to do over the holidays. I also had a moment of doubt as to whether it was worth carrying on with this blog or not, but that had a lot to do with the rather surreal time I've had in my personal life lately and the fact that I'm now engaged in reading a blog that is actually about something real, and not just a pointless exercise in personal vanity... In the end I decided that the best way to get through a tough time is to carry on with your normal routine, so here I am again, making the assumption that someone may find reading my insignificant drivel interesting.

So let's make our way out of the trough of mild depression and onto the crest of holiday fun. I am proud to report that I wasn't completely lazy over the last couple of weeks, managing to devote a fair bit of time to learning Le Nozze di Figaro, though as usual, the original plan was to also squeeze in a few other bits and bobs, in which I predictably failed (those were optional though, so I'm ok!). What I think some of you may find interesting, though, is not the work I did, but the ways I found to relax.

To give this a bit of context, I'll tell you a bit about my group of closest friends, with whom I spent 5 days around New Year's Eve and Day. We all come from a scouting background, where the main sources of fun are the outdoors, fire (in the camp-fire sense, not the dangerous obsession sense), and a guitar. So when we arrived in my parent's cottage in the Beskidy mountains, we had 2 guitars, 2 djembe drums and an assortment of percussive instruments, plus anything we found in the house (spoons, lampshades, and a cheese grater). I pity those who had plans to catch up on some sleep over those couple of days, as we stayed up until around 4am every night going through our favourite songs from our scouting days, improvising harmonies on nonsensical spur-of-the-moment lyrics, dancing to quasi-african drum beats and rapping to a backing track I lovingly played on my iPad's hip-hop drum machine app. I generally find that when I do find time off, I avoid singing like the plague, but after a week of silence in Kraków, this free-form music-making was the most fun I've had in ages. There's nothing like being yourself, both personally and musically in a tight group of friends.

All good things come to an end, however, and before we knew it, it was time to go back to Kraków. The music-making was, as it turned out, far from over. This same group of friends took me out to a jam-session in on of my old haunts, the Harris Piano Jazz Bar. These jam-sessions are held regularly and my friends try to make as many as they can. The music is mainly blues, with an established band opening and closing the concert, to get people in the mood and then wind the party down. A good third of the audience are musicians with instruments in hand, who then take to the stage as and when they know the songs being played. The atmosphere is electric, seats hard to come by, the floor a tightly packed swaying (and, in the latter part of the evening, dancing) throng. It all takes me back to my high-school and early uni days, when I had a band of my own and it used to be us up there on the stage... I love what I do now, but I do miss the feel of the mic stand in my hands, the lights, the noise, and the feeling of being myself (not a character in a play) and letting go while belting out a good song (or even one of our own ;) ). So inevitably, I end up jumping up to join the guys when I hear a familiar intro! Anyone interested in starting up a band in Cardiff? Just kidding... there's never enough time. But a jam session? Maybe there's a club that holds them from time to time. At least I know the Harris jams will from now on be an obligatory feature of my visits home.

For anyone curious, here's a taste of Polish blues-rock history, and the very song I sang: