So what exactly does it mean to be Fest? According to dict.leo.org (my favorite online dictionary friend), it means attached, confirmed, close, constant, definite, determined, firm, fixed, permanent, solid, stable, stationary, steadfast, tight, unshaken. I can say without a doubt that, yes, being a Fest singer certainly seems like it’s going to be all of those things. And it is. Except when it’s not.
Here’s how it works most of the time. An individual is offered a contract—often for one or two seasons, sometimes for more-with or without certain clauses and points. Every Fest singer’s contract is different, and the terms of each individual contract have a lot to do with a number of different factors: Fach, age, career thus far, other pending contracts and guest appearances, and agent. It’s those terms that help determine what you’ll be asked to do, and what you won’t be asked to do, during a given season.
I have one colleague who was contracted to sing three roles in one season, and that’s all she did. Another colleague’s contract states he’ll have no more than 12 performances in a year, and if his total goes over that, he’ll be paid for each additional show. But for those of us on the lighter side of the Fach spectrum, those kinds of contracts are unlikely. Instead of being contracted to sing three roles, you’re contracted to sing roles in a specific Fach (which is better than being assigned roles in your voice type); instead of 12 performances a year, it’s 36, and the additional performances pay less. Or your contract will just say you’re to be assigned roles nach Absprache, which basically means you’re going to have a lot to do.
By October 15 of each season, the house has to decide if they want to engage a singer for the next season. It’s the job of the Operndirektor, together with input from other folks, to assign roles to singers. Singers then have two weeks to decide if they want to return for another season or try their luck elsewhere. During the meeting with the Operndirektor, roles and schedules are discussed, and the singer leaves with a good idea of what the following season will be like.
And that’s what happened to me, basically. Last October, I was called into the office to discuss roles and plans. Shortly before the end of last season in June, I got an e-mail breaking down the season for me. I had two shows in early September and the Opernball in mid-October, and my next staged show was set to open in late November. The rest of the season was going to be a bit busier, but not really. Starting in December, I had one new production, a few concerts, and a couple of Wiederaufnahmen, or revivals.
When I left for the summer, I knew I was going to come back in the fall to an intense few weeks that would slow down for the remainder of the season. I’d have two premieres, comprised of the lead role and a role with two pages of music to learn, two new concert pieces to learn and, at the tail end of the season, a concert performance of an opera that I’d have all year to learn. Completely doable. I’d have enough time to learn everything I didn’t already know, and plenty of space between those long new production rehearsal periods to recover and get ready for the next thing.
But then, all of a sudden, plans and programs that had been set for months and months changed, and my name got added where it hadn’t been, and weekends I originally had free were now jampacked with lots and lots of new music. And then, I got assigned a role I wasn’t originally set to perform, in a new production set to open in early March, effectively back-to-back with another new production. To make matters even more complicated, that concert performance at the end of the year just might get pushed up two months, nestled comfortably in the middle of everything.
Suddenly, that Fest job—the one that’s supposed to be determined, fixed, and stable—is right now the furthest thing from any of those adjectives. I’d much rather be busy than not, and there really is nothing worse than having a job that keeps you in one place but doesn’t actually let you do anything. Believe me. But the fact that I went from having literally nothing for a whole month to having five different performances in the same amount of time is nothing if not indicative of one of the biggest drawbacks of being Fest: things change all the time. In addition to normal opera performances, there are a number of extra events that a house puts on. When you’re a Fest singer, the house pays you a monthly salary, just like an office job. Part of that is paying you for performing, and part of that is paying you to be around. Which means you are there, at the house’s disposal, to do what they want you to do. All. The. Time.
If your roles aren’t named in your contract, and you’re not given a specific number of performances in your contract, and you’re more or less there, then being assigned additional concerts and small roles is a big part of your life. OK. I’ll be honest—they’re a big part of my life.
When I first got my job here, I didn’t have an agent to fight for me, I didn’t have a lot of experience with contract negotiation, and I didn’t really know how it all worked, and so on and so forth—all of which means that now, three seasons in, the terms of my contract haven’t changed that much. Since I’m a light lyric soprano with soubrette tendencies, and I’m relatively young and at the beginning of my career, the odds of getting those ridiculously fantastic clauses are pretty slim. (Only 12 performances a year? Ha! Sometimes I do that many in a month!)
Yet, in many ways, that can work to my advantage. I’ve gotten to do a lot of great stuff because my contract wasn’t tied up, and I’ve learned a lot of repertoire. But it also means there have been periods of time where I’ve been too busy for my own good, and some of that repertoire I’ve learned is stuff I’ll never use again in my life. It is definitely a double-edged sword. It’s much worse when you learn new music for an event that you suddenly learn you be doing—which, if I’ve learned anything in the last two seasons, is bound to happen to me soon. But until it does, I’ve got too much going on to worry about it.
