A few years ago, a beautiful young mezzo approached me for some advice on how, essentially, to get over herself and play Carmen.
The problem wasn’t that she couldn’t sing it or didn’t know what to do with the character. The problem was that this striking, curvy, vivacious Latina was not a size four. She wasn’t even a size 14. And because of this, she felt inhibited playing characters who are supposed to be “sexy.”
I could certainly empathize with her. Weight, food, and body image have been lifelong struggles for me—not only in my personal life but also in my career. During my senior year of college, I essentially starved myself down to a size 12, the smallest I’d ever been in my adult life, and I am convinced that being smaller helped me get my career off the ground. It didn’t last, of course—gradually the pounds came back on and brought friends with them. Ironically, although I would have preferred to be slender, owning my inner goddess has never been an issue for me on stage.
Nevertheless, as my career grew, despite the assertions of many a coach, voice teacher, and even colleagues about the type of repertoire I should be singing, I found myself most often being cast in contralto-ish character roles. How much of this is due to my actual voice and personality and how much has to do with my look, I will never know. It’s a topic of great fascination for me: What goes into making a person marketable in certain types of roles and not in others? The answer, I found, is not so cut and dried.
But one thing is certain. In these days of HD broadcasts and slickly produced “popera” sensations, physical image is more important than ever. Being attractive is an asset, but we can’t all look like Anna Netrebko or Nathan Gunn. So what can we poor mortals do?
As I told my young friend, “First, you have to own it.” If you don’t believe in your own appeal, you will be unable to convince others that you’re appealing. Sexiness, even beauty, is not always about being the best looking. The French (who else?) have a term to describe those who do not fit society’s increasingly narrow conventional standard of beauty, but are beautiful and appealing nonetheless: belle laide—literally, “beautiful ugly.”
Among celebrities, two who might be said to embody the idea of belle laide, are the actors Adrian Brody and Sarah Jessica Parker. Both possess physical features which are less than ideal and yet, somehow, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. This could not happen if it weren’t for the inner spark, the spirit, and the self-confidence these people possess. And while there is no easy way to overcome a lack of self-confidence—which after all is the essential ingredient in any beautiful or sexy person—if you are pursuing classical singing as a career, presumably you are some sort of actor. So, fake it ’til you make it!
It also helps to get mad. Who are these people who think they have a right to define you? Who are these crazy people who seem to think that if you don’t look like a movie star, you are ineligible for falling in love, getting married, having kids, the whole shebang? Hollywood, magazines, advertisements, fashion—they all set an impossible standard of beauty and they do it for one reason: to make money. By making the rest of us feel “less than” and holding up highly manipulated images as “reality,” the folks who are doing the selling can make us despair, envy, desire and, most importantly, buy. So don’t buy into it. You’re an artiste, after all. Dare to be original. Dare to establish your own standards of beauty. Or dare, like Balpreet Kaur, to embrace yourself as you are.
Balpreet Kaur is a young woman who happens to have a beard, mustache, and heavy sideburns. A devout Sikh, Kaur does not believe in altering her appearance, because it has been given to her by God. Recently, someone took a photo of her and posted it on the popular website Reddit, presumably to make fun of her. A friend brought it to her attention and Kaur replied (in part):
“Yes, I’m a baptized Sikh woman with facial hair. Yes, I realize that my gender is often confused and I look different than most women. However, baptized Sikhs believe in the sacredness of this body—it is a gift that has been given to us by the Divine Being (which is genderless, actually) and [we] must keep it intact as a submission to the divine will. Just as a child doesn’t reject the gift of his/her parents, Sikhs do not reject the body that has been given to us. By crying ‘mine, mine’ and changing this body-tool, we are essentially living in ego and creating a separateness between ourselves and the divinity within us. By transcending societal views of beauty, I believe that I can focus more on my actions. My attitude and thoughts and actions have more value in them than my body because I recognize that this body is just going to become ash in the end, so why fuss about it? When I die, no one is going to remember what I looked like. Heck, my kids will forget my voice, and slowly, all physical memory will fade away. However, my impact and legacy will remain, and, by not focusing on the physical beauty, I have time to cultivate those inner virtues and hopefully, focus my life on creating change and progress for this world in any way I can. So, to me, my face isn’t important but the smile and the happiness that lie behind the face are.” (From a story reported on Jezebel at jezebel.com/5946643/reddit-users-attempt-to-shame-sikh-woman-get-righteously-schooled).
Kaur’s attitude is admirable and affirming. As professional singers who portray specific roles on stage, however, we can’t afford to completely neglect certain aspects of our appearances. And while we can refuse to buy into the warped notion that only the beautiful fall in love, or that someone who is beautiful can’t love someone who isn’t, or even that society’s standard of beauty must be conformed to at all times, we must deal with the reality that there are physical ideals for certain roles. Beauty isn’t the only such ideal. Men on stage, especially heroes, are supposed to be tall, and women must not be taller than their onstage love interest. And youth is an essential ingredient of beauty and love-worthiness (a few operatic May-December romances, such as that of Rucker Lattimore and Love Simpson in Cold Sassy Tree, notwithstanding). Leading men must not be bald (Jean-Luc Picard, anyone?). And so on.
How do you battle these “handicaps”? From a career standpoint, consider the most important characteristics of the roles you hope to play. Very seldom is the overriding characteristic “beauty” which, after all, is highly subjective. Women like Carmen and Delilah are sexy not because they are beautiful, but because they are sensual, magnetic, powerful, self-confident, and even dangerous. Samuel Ramey, always a powerhouse on stage, is a short leading man who somehow never appears to be short. How can you use what you have to embody sensuality, power, confidence, magnetism or, indeed, whatever characteristics you need to portray a given character? You must cultivate these things in yourself and show them first as a person, and secondly as a character, when you walk into an audition.
Of course, you must make the most of what you have physically. This can be difficult if you suffer from low self-esteem regarding your appearance, but try to focus on your good points rather than dwelling on that which can’t be helped. You have only to watch a show like TLC’s What Not to Wear to see that anyone can be “souped up” without having to resort to plastic surgery or desperate measures! Start with your skin—this goes for men, too—and make sure you have a good skin care regimen. This will not only help you look good now, but it will preserve your good looks as you age. Invest some time and money in discovering what a really good hair cut and color can do for you—this applies to men and women alike. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to address facial hair, including eyebrows. Ladies must learn to wear makeup. I suggest consulting with a theater makeup and wig artist or someone who does hair and makeup professionally for photo shoots.
Learn how to dress, too. Here’s the secret: it’s about proportions. If you can afford a session with an image consultant, that could be a great investment in your career; but if that’s beyond your means, you still have options. Talk to a costume designer, make an appointment with a personal shopper at a high-end department store, or just consult with a friend who always looks great. Ask them to show you what looks good on you and why. For ladies, there’s a great (and inexpensive) online service called Missus Smarty Pants (www.MissusSmartyPants.com), designed for real people with real budgets. One of the most useful features is a regularly posted article about how to wear trending items, as well as a detailed discussion of the right items for certain figures.
Looking sharp goes a long way to making you feel sharp—and ultimately, how you feel about yourself is the single most important weapon in your arsenal when you go out to put yourself on the line for a role. So all things being equal, if you are vocally suitable for certain roles—meaning that you sparkle in these roles and they show the very best of your voice and your personality—then forget your physical imperfections and make yourself convincing in the ways that really count. If you sell it, really sell it, then at some point, someone is going to buy it.
As for my young mezzo friend who—despite her height, curvy figure, raven hair, sparkling eyes, and dynamic, sassy personality—feared she couldn’t play Carmen . . . well, fast forward a few years. She has several professional roles under her belt. She is now married to a man who adores her, is about a head shorter than she is, and who makes sure she understands exactly how sexy she is. She hasn’t changed sizes, but she’s gained a lot of confidence and, more than ever, knows exactly who she is. I doubt she’d have any problem embodying any character she put her mind to, let alone Carmen. After all, she was always Carmen. She just had to learn to own it.
