One beautiful January afternoon, I attended a masterclass by the incomparable pianist-coach-conductor Warren Jones, open to the public and absolutely free. There hadn’t been a lot of advertisement about the class, but a colleague from the university had mentioned it to me. It had been posted on Facebook and, once I knew about it, I certainly publicized it to my students and friends.
The masterclass was amazing. Maestro Jones delivered an afternoon of wisdom with style, wit, kindness, and a great deal of passion. Every student who performed for him received at least one solid gold nugget of information, and those of us who audited, even more. Everyone in the room was excited about the performances and the work.
The sad thing was, there were not very many people there! At least a third of the small audience was composed of the singers and pianists who were performing, two voice faculty members, a couple of piano faculty members, and a handful of others, including some pianists and singers from the community. Where were all of the university students? Where were the studio mates of the performers? Where were the kids from the studios that weren’t represented?
As a musician in the community, I was embarrassed! I remembered a masterclass and some auditions given a few years ago by David Blackburn of NYIOP fame, which he graciously invited me to help judge and which were also very poorly attended. Granted, neither of us has the name or reputation of someone like Maestro Jones, but we are both working singers, we both know a little something about the business, David is a great connection to work in Europe and, for heaven’s sake, it was free!
Maybe these kids didn’t know who Warren Jones is or who David Blackburn is. That’s OK. What’s sad is if they couldn’t be bothered to hit Google and find out. And if they did know or learn who these people are, then what’s even sadder is that so many of them found “something better” to do on a balmy Sunday afternoon—something better to do than spend a couple of hours working with an amazing musician and human being on what is supposed to be their craft and their passion.
Here is what I would like to say to those university students, and to the many at large who call themselves aspiring singers but who don’t really invest in their craft. It’s harsh—but no apologies from me on that account.
My friends: two or three years from now, when you can’t get into a Young Artists Program or get hired for the mainstage, when you are temping to pay off the thousands of dollars of student loans you borrowed to pay for your master’s degree and when you are complaining to anyone who will listen about how you can’t afford your $100 voice lesson or your $75 coaching so that you can improve your technique and get an apprenticeship or a role, please take a moment to recall what it was you were doing on this beautiful Sunday afternoon and many others like it. Take a moment to remember what it was that you were so very passionate about that it obscured the alleged passion you think you have for what is supposed to be your craft.
Undoubtedly, some of you were at work, or at rehearsal, or at your sick auntie’s bedside. But the rest of you who chose to watch football or go to the mall or whatever it was that was so much more interesting to you than spending a couple of hours at the feet of a generous giant in your art, and who are now complaining about how despite all your talent you just can’t seem to get a foot in the door, now would be a good time to reflect and be silent.
If you are not hungry, desperately hungry, for knowledge and for improving your craft, you don’t deserve to work in it. If you are too lazy or unmotivated to take a gift like a free masterclass or to devour your voice lessons and coachings and every opportunity you can find to stand up and sing, you don’t deserve to work in this business. Please, please go and find something you truly are passionate about. You’ll be doing the people who are honestly in love with making music a great favor by getting out of the way. You, and the world, will be much happier.
