In the classic 1986 film Labyrinth, Sarah, an exasperated young girl, wishes for her baby stepbrother to be carried off by goblins—and when the Goblin King obliges her, she spends the rest of the movie chasing through a labyrinth of tricks and traps trying to get the baby back. In the process, Sarah does quite a lot of complaining. “It’s not fair!” she exclaims when once again she’s been diverted from her goal. “You say that so often,” the Goblin King replies, amused. “I wonder what your basis for comparison is?”
The rigors of audition season brings on a rash of complaints from frustrated singers. Complaints about application and audition fees, who is or isn’t getting hired, perceived prejudices and slights, the state of the business, age limits, general director salaries compared to singers’, the quality (or lack thereof) of singers and productions in the biggest houses, the difficulty of getting started in the business, the costs of training programs, colleagues to whom everything seems to be handed on a silver platter . . . it’d be quicker and easier to list things singers don’t complain about!
It’s a tough business and it is not, in fact, fair—that news isn’t going to stop the presses. But whether or not you understand it, this is what you sign on for when you decide to pursue a career in singing.
In choosing to study for a professional career, you are choosing to gamble that you have the talent, connections, and resources to make a go of it. The risk of that gamble increases exponentially if you do not make the effort to educate yourself about what the career truly entails. It is not enough, not nearly enough, to simply go to a good school and do everything your teachers tell you. You must make sure you have a teacher who is right for you and who is not only teaching you a correct technique but guiding you to the right repertoire. How can you tell? By your progress, for one thing. Does it get easier? Are you conquering your flaws? Are you getting cast where you weren’t before?
Progress does not equal professional viability. Loving to sing does not equal talent and ability. And a degree in music does not make you automatically employable. It is your job to know what the people who are getting hired sound like. And I’m not talking about Renée Fleming, I’m talking about the people who are getting the jobs you want and might expect to get in the next year or two. Of course, you should be listening to the stars of today and yesteryear, as well.
If your education is lacking, and you “didn’t know” or “weren’t told,” whose fault is that? Darling, it is ultimately yours. Is it fair that you paid thousands of dollars to learn to sing, did everything you were told, and still aren’t employable? Of course not. But it is your responsibility to figure it out. You cannot be complacent about your education. You have to be hungry for the knowledge that isn’t being presented to you on a silver platter. Question authority! Listen to what your teachers tell you, but compare it to what you find out when you investigate the world on your own, and don’t be afraid to bring questions back to them. If they get defensive or simply shrug and don’t know the answers, you may not be getting the education you need. You may need to seek it elsewhere or supplement it from outside sources.
In choosing to start late, or take time off before coming back and trying to get your career going, you have chosen the added challenge of having certain opportunities (such as most YAPs and competitions) closed to you. It’s frustrating. It’s difficult. But no one is promised career success! All you can do is make sure you are singing at a professional level, and then get out there and find yourself some champions. Find people who are willing to give you a chance.
In choosing to pursue singing pro-fessionally, you are choosing an expensive career that requires constant maintenance of the voice through pricey lessons and coachings, airline tickets and hotel bills for travel to auditions, some colleagues who are really magnificent and lovely people but also some who are crazy and mean, a whole lot of time away from your loved ones, and challenges and glamor and tedium and disappointment all rolled into one.
Some singers I know recently traveled to New York for the express purpose of being heard by the Met. At the last minute, the proper space wasn’t available and they had to choose between singing in an inferior space which even the Met advised against or rescheduling. Is it fair? Of course not. Is it horribly disappointing and expensive? Of course it is. We’ve all had auditions—or worse, contracts—canceled at the last minute and find ourselves eating a plane ticket. Sometimes circumstances conspire against you, and it’s all beyond your control. That’s the business. And life.
Does this mean we as singers should accept unfair treatment? Of course not. We all have to pick our battles and have a realistic view of what we can win. But singers as a group can do a lot better job of educating themselves about the business so they can avoid the pitfalls of unfair situations. Pay-to-sing programs that don’t deliver, going thousands of dollars into debt for a degree that won’t get you a gig—a lot of so-called unfairness is, in fact, avoidable. Do your homework and save the kvetching for your coffee klatch. Invest the time and energy you save into practicing. Now, that’s an investment that will show a return!
So much of what happens in our industry is beyond our control, and our resources as individuals are limited. We have to make decisions about how to use those resources to maximum advantage: resources of time, money, and energy, both physical and mental. It’s great to let off steam, but dwelling on unfairness—especially on the type of unfairness you can’t do anything about—is counterproductive and futile. It’s a roadblock that stops you from progressing. This is not an even playing field, but so much of this business depends not on what exactly you’ve got, but how you use it.
Think about the last program or gig you did. How many times did singers sit around griping? How did it make you feel if you participated in such a session? Did you feel lighter and energized, as if you’d gotten something off your chest, or did you feel dissatisfied, tired, and grumpy? You don’t have to be a Pollyanna, but complaining needlessly is a huge energy suck, and so is hanging around the gripers. Inevitably, there are those people who sit around moaning about every little thing that isn’t going as they think it should—and there are those who recognize that it’s not perfect and yet choose to spend their time and energy dealing with the reality they’re living in, not the one they think they should be.
At the end of Labyrinth, Sarah is offered a choice between the romantic fantasy represented by the Goblin King, who has both tormented and fascinated her throughout her journey, and her considerably more dreary reality. She chooses reality and, in doing so, realizes that the Goblin King, with all his cheating tricks, never had any power over her other than what she gave him. She is the truly powerful one, if she is only willing to claim it.
Our own realities aren’t really so different. We can choose to be distracted from our goals by fantasies and goblins of our own making, or we can forge ahead and work with what we’ve got. To do anything less is to be unfair to ourselves.
