An interesting question recently arose on the Classical Singer General Interest Forum. A singer who holds very strong convictions against working for a certain organization accepted an engagement from a conductor and belatedly realized that the engagement would directly benefit that organization. He was torn about whether he should fulfill his professional obligation or cancel. Ultimately, he spoke to the conductor about his principles and bowed out of the engagement. Although he felt strongly that he had behaved morally, he was concerned—and rightly so—about professional repercussions.
How could this singer have avoided a sticky situation? How could he repair any potential damage? And if you are a performer with strong convictions about what you will and will not do on stage, or what type of work you will or will not accept, how can you protect yourself professionally? If you find yourself in a difficult situation, how can you tread the often delicate line between maintaining personal and professional standards?
In the case of the singer who found it necessary to extricate himself from the gig his conscience could not support, damage control was called for. The best course of action would have been to call the conductor as soon as he realized his mistake, explain that a personal circumstance had arisen that would prevent his fulfilling the obligation, and offer a list of potential replacements. The singer has no issues with the conductor per se and in fact hopes to work with him under different circumstances. He was lucky that this particular conductor was sympathetic. Others might not have been.
For this reason, it is not necessary or advisable to tell an employer (especially one from whom you’ve already accepted work) that you object to their sponsor on moral grounds, unless of course you don’t mind possibly burning a bridge. It’s no one’s business but your own why you are canceling a gig in advance, and as a general rule you shouldn’t offer more information than is absolutely necessary. There’s a reason all those CEOs and politicians quit jobs to “spend more quality time with the family.” Sure, it’s code, and everyone knows it’s code, but others don’t have to know your business.
In addition to offering to help find a replacement, you should send a note and possibly a small gift to the conductor, apologizing again for causing a problem, thanking him for his understanding and his interest, and assuring him that you hope to have an opportunity to work with him in the near future. Depending on the circumstance and how well you know the person doing the hiring, you might even consider offering a similar future service at a reduced fee, or perhaps for free. The idea here is not just to make up for any difficulty you might have caused, however inadvertently, but also to show that you are a dependable professional who simply came up against an unfortunately insurmountable circumstance.
Many singers in the business hold moral or religious views that deeply inform their daily lives. In my career, I’ve encountered a Jehovah’s Witness who wouldn’t attend cast parties or sing certain roles, a Baptist minister who didn’t want to even pretend to kiss a woman other than his wife on stage (a difficult proposition for a tenor), and an Orthodox Jew who would not accept engagements on Friday night or Saturday. All of these singers had compelling reasons for their choices, but all were also at something of a loss as to how to advance their careers when they were so often at odds with the demands of the business.
Obviously, if your beliefs sometimes conflict with certain items considered standard in the business, it is up to you to make sure that this is understood before you accept an engagement. (Do be careful when outlining your concerns with a potential employer—you want to come across as matter-of-fact, not holier-than-thou.) We are in the business of make-believe, and many people will not understand why you won’t always play that game, especially if it’s something with which most singers wouldn’t take issue.
It’s your responsibility, as well as in your best interest, to avoid a potentially awkward scenario whenever possible. For example, if you don’t do nude scenes, you should have a clause in your contract. If you prefer not to work for or benefit organizations or people, you’d better make sure before accepting a contract that they are not involved. If you need to refrain from rehearsals or performances on certain dates, make sure the terms of the contract clearly excuse you on those dates. You will not get a reputation for being difficult or flaky if you make your principles clear from the outset, and do your homework in advance.
Part of that homework is making sure you have a pretty good understanding of what is standard in the business before you accept an engagement. If you’re working with a director who has a reputation as a provocateur, you should be prepared for some staging, costuming, or interpretations that you might consider to be beyond the pale. The same could be true of work in certain houses, or in Europe, where staging is often much more adventurous than in the United States. In certain roles, you might predictably be expected to act (and dress) the role of a seducer, a cad, a cheat, a murderer, a prostitute, or some other unsavory character. In other roles, it might be fairly standard to expect you to portray certain types of physical contact or relationships, or to wear revealing costumes. You should, of course, make every effort to be familiar with a work (especially a new work) prior to accepting any engagements, to avoid unpleasant and awkward surprises.
Of course, no one can predict every situation. I don’t consider myself a prude, but early in my career, I found myself assigned a costume that, at the time, I found downright obscene and humiliating. No actual body parts were showing, but viewed from only a short distance, this very realistically painted bodysuit could have passed for a birthday suit. Happily, the powers that be decided that this costume was too risqué for the local audience, so they provided lingerie that covered up the most offensive bits of the bodysuit—except my knickers were crotchless, which I found even more embarrassingly suggestive than the appearance of nudity.
I was genuinely distressed, but I was very young and inexperienced, singing in a major house, and scared to death to complain. My solution was to surreptitiously safety pin the gap and keep my legs together as much as possible! I was lucky I wasn’t caught; I could have been fired or fined, and I certainly would have been in hot water.
Nowadays, were I to find myself unexpectedly being asked to do something objectionable in a professional situation, I would first speak privately with the director to try to find out why this particular action was necessary. I would let him know from the outset that I was uncomfortable with the interpretation and why, and ask if there were some way we could compromise. Also, unless the conflict were over something so offensive that I really couldn’t bring myself to participate, I would at least try whatever was being asked. If nothing else, this would put me in a stronger position to refuse it later, on the grounds that I had made the effort despite my reservations and confirmed that it was something I couldn’t live with. If we found ourselves at an impasse, it would be time to get the managers and company administration involved and let them hash it out.
Might I lose the job? I might, if the director were powerful enough. Might I not be hired by that company again? Possibly, if they didn’t like my reasoning or my handling of the situation.
Sometimes you have to pay a price for having principles, after all.
