Dear Editor:
I don’t believe in lying about anything. I believe that I can accomplish my goals by being exactly who I am. However, we live in a youth-oriented society.
I am 39 and am usually taken to be 25-31. I often have to convince people that I’m 30, much less almost 40! My appearance is young and attractive. I am singing wonderfully. I am healthy, vibrant, confident, and dedicated. I’m a quick study, a hard worker, and very persevering. I have a tremendous gift to offer the world and I am doing that in my many venues that I have created for myself—but I wonder why certain people are more interested in how long I’ve been around than in what I’ve accomplished during that time.
Age means nothing to me, but it means a great deal to certain people in the opera business. My supporters are telling me to forge documents and enter competitions. I have a hard time with this philosophy because I don’t believe in accepting things based on pretending to be something that I’m not. I’m told that this is the game and [that] perhaps I need to being playing the game.
It’s a dilemma. I want to do some of these auditions, but the most important thing for me is to feel good about myself and how I do something. If I could lie and feel at peace about it, I would. I’m not sure I can.
I believe in being true to oneself and playing by my rules of honesty and integrity, but we all know that there are many paths to getting your foot in the door and often the rules are bent. Perhaps the entire industry needs to take a look at their rules.
After all, what really is important is how well we sing, and get inside people’s hearts, and move them, not how old we are when we do it.
— Name on File
Dear Editor:
As to whether I lie or not—yes, indeed! After investing tens of thousands of dollars of my own money, my mother’s money, and that of friends and relatives, I’m not about to let my talent and all those years of grueling hard work and study go down the drain. (I lie for any audition where age may keep me from getting the job. I have not, heretofore, forged any documents.)
I’ve now mastered my technique, I’m in excellent health, and I look great. I also now know what to sing and what not to sing for an audition. So now that the package is complete, I should stop singing because of age? I say never!
Very few of the competitions with early age limits lead the singers anywhere. I’ve noticed that too many of the singers that win these international or prestigious vocal competitions disappear, rarely to be heard from again after about five years or so (the Metropolitan Opera auditions/finals being a case in point). Or these singers are not in good vocal shape five to ten years after winning the award. (Why is this? Could youth and insufficient preparation be the reason?)
Any singer who has reached age 30 to 40—who has weathered the storm, so to speak, and still sings well and looks good—should be given every
consideration. I, too, look forward to the day when ageism, sexism, [and] racism won’t even come into play—only artistry.
— Sincerely, Ageless
Dear Editor:
There are three reasons I’ve told the truth so far.
1. The whole business of trying to second-guess what the other guy “wants” to hear—in my career, in my relationships, in local politics, wherever—makes me tired. I tried to get things “right” this way for a long time and in many areas of my life, but I’ve made mistakes this way, too. It’s just simpler for me to stop second-guessing entirely. It’s frustrating enough when something turns out unfortunately; it’s worse if I also compromised myself for it.
2. The role of age in the singing world makes me mad. One of your letter writers was right to call it “ageism” and compare it with sexism. When a guy makes a sexist comment, I don’t bat my eyelashes and agree with him! I try to make as much of a dent in his thinking as possible, given the situation (resisting the temptation to make a dent in his head).
3. There’s a very basic silliness about the whole syndrome. Lying about your age has become so common that it doesn’t even work. The person you tell your age simply assumes you’re lying and adds three or four years.
I don’t broadcast my age, but when I’m asked, I do one of two things. If I answer the question I say “I’m XX, really.” I say this with as much meaning as I can put into the word. It gets across that I am not lying, so don’t add on, please. It also makes the person think a little about why they asked. It implies, “so what?” Sometimes I make that point more explicit. Instead of answering outright, I say: “Why do you ask? Do you have questions about my audition? I’m very interested in your comments and reactions.”
The main thing to remember is that if you do get a job, it’s because of who you are as well as what you do. You have to be good, so I concentrate on being as good as I can. But being a well-spoken, diplomatic straight shooter is also important to me. Being driven by fear to contradict who I am and how I want to behave threatens the very sense that as an artist and a human being I am trying to foster.
—Name on File
Dear Editor:
Yes, I lie about my age. Fortunately, I look young, so this is not a huge issue yet, but I feel like I’m hiding a terrible secret. My feelings are that anyone stupid enough to ask someone’s age deserves to be lied to.
It’s sad that many “stars” lie about their age. It can be frustrating for young singers who compare their progress unfavorably to singers who actually are 10 or more years older than they claim to be.
—Name on File
Last, but by no means least, we recently received a phone call from a subscriber in Stamford, Conn., who wonders why there is all this hullabaloo over something so simple. After all, he says, “If I can have a stage name, I can have a stage age!”
