Death and taxes. You can’t es-cape’ em. You also can’t escape getting older. The Question of Age is an emotional one indeed, judging from the flood of responses to our questions, with only one respondent who would allow us to use her name.
One 43-year-old singer wrote, “Last year looking for an agent, I couldn’t get my foot in the door, even though I had two years of contracts, a recording and a movie coming out. My experience didn’t even give me the clout to have an agent hear me sing.”
Is this a common experience? The answer appears to be yes. A significant percentage of singers, from beginners to international artists, cite age as a relevant factor in their performing lives, some to the extent that they have considered lying about their age, or have perhaps even altered official documents, in the hope of retaining a youthful edge.
Lying has unfortunately led to more problems for singers. Mezzo Paula Rasmussen wrote: “I know many, many singers who lie about their age and it infuriates me, because everyone automatically adds three to five years onto any stated age by any singer now! I do not lie, and I am sure people think I am older, because it has become standard practice to shave off a few years. In the long run, however, it does not matter. If you sing well that is all that matters, and none of us can stay 23 forever.” Several singers wrote that they saw nothing wrong with lying since the system is so corrupt, while others were vehement about being truthful. A few wrote about getting caught forging legal documents in a desperate attempt to be hirable or to compete.
“Too-young singers are forgiven,” said one soprano, “because they can go away and learn to correct their mistakes, be successful in another situation and then return to the scene of any problems, triumphant. Too-old singers are just let go and are never heard from again.”
The aging issue becomes even more divisive when gender considerations are factored in. “I think people do lie,” wrote a soprano with an international career, “especially women, because they think it’s more impressive they have the voice they do at a younger age, and age is always seen as a negative thing for women in our society. You can have Placido singing Parsifal, who should be a young man, but you probably wouldn’t have a 60-year-old Kundry, since she’s supposed to be young. We’re willing to suspend dis-belief for men’s ages, but not women’s.”
One of the oldest of double standards is at work here. A baritone wrote, “Sometimes I think [concern about age] is warranted. I personally don’t want to see a 46-year-old Zerlina….Nor do I want to see a 27-year-old Fillipo. I would be outraged at either. Women take it bad on the old side, men on the young side. I literally had to grow a beard to hide my baby face so I could be taken seriously as a Verdi baritone.” Several men mentioned being called “baby-faced,” and admitted to padding their age to get work. On the other end, one singer cited the example of a baritone friend, accustomed to playing heroic roles such as Escamillo, who finally made the decision to accept his age and change in appearance and voice type, and has now embraced a whole new range of success doing character roles.
Is this an option for the older female singer? Not necessarily; the number of available operatic roles for men outnumber those for women by a staggering margin. [Ed.: For statistics, see Management, The Book, pg. 78.] And of those roles, how many are for older women? Statistically few.
Some women wrote of starting careers later because they take time off to raise children. One 32-year-old wrote, “…Raising three children took precious years, but during those years I gained a wealth of wisdom and perspective. The voice may have been there, but the brains and heart certainly were not. I would not go back and be 22 for all the opera contracts in the world, if it meant giving up the knowledge and wisdom I now possess.”
Fear of being too old can be paralyzing to a singer, and all too often for no good reason. An example is the singer above who thinks she is too old at age 32! This fear is spread through competition and young artist program age deadlines, and coaches or teachers who are either bitter about their own careers or playing power games. One singer reports that she was told by an 80-year-old tenor voice teacher that, “…Because I was too old, I would have to ‘spread my legs’ if I wanted a career.”
By contrast, another respondent declared, “This age business is baloney. Just go for it! If you want proof, take a look at the artists at NYCO or the Met, or nearly any company. These artists are rarely in their 20’s. Competitions are often for very young singers, but real world? Not!”
Go backstage at any large opera house and take a look around. There is a report of a19-year-old Mannes student making her debut at the Met this year, but this type of situation is very much the exception, not the rule.
At its heart, the problem of age in opera goes to the very root of the art itself. Roles are written for singers who look and act 18, but who sound like they’re 35. In casting, the producer often has to make the choice between a person who can sing the role exquisitely, but who doesn’t look the part, and the singer who embodies the role in every respect, except age.
Another respondent put it this way: “If I see someone come in who has some age on them and they are glowing and have their lights on, I’ll give them a chance. However, by the time a singer gets to a certain age with only limited success, it has been my view that there is a lot of bitterness in their face, and I don’t want to put that on a stage. People come to see opera because it makes them feel better. Consequently, managers, etc., have an obligation to put the most pleasant package up there.”
Until comparatively recently, the illusion wrought by make-up and costuming was sufficient to woo an audience; now, with televised opera a regular event, the camera has changed the rules. “There is no doubt that opera has joined the ranks of the ‘youth is all’ media,” said one mezzo. “But if you are going to play a 40-year-old Carmen or Giulietta, you need to work as hard as Angela Bassett does for film, to keep all of your performing tools honed.”
How do we solve the problems of singers and the age issue? “I don’t think it is a problem as much as it is a fact,” said one singer. “We get old and we aren’t prepared for it. I think singers should have change of career plans when they start their profession! Fatalistic? No. Practical.”
One opinion goes something like this: “A great possibility for companies choosing the youngest singers could be the simple fact that young people are less likely to object when faced with all kinds of employment improprieties.” In our experience, however, it is the younger singers who tend to be unwilling to put up with the games of the business.
In an age where television and film versions of operas are making the genre more and more accessible with revealing closeups; when age discrimination suits are mentioned in the same breath with plastic surgery or collagen treatments; when for every available role there are hundreds of willing and very able auditioners, of all ages–there are no fast or easy answers. Commercialism will always go head-to-head with art, for simple reasons of economics and survival.
But one singer who wrote us on this issue put it very well. “We think we can perform forever, and the sad news is that no one is going to pay for a 50-year old Cherubino in a 1,000-seat house, when they can get a fledgling for half the price. It is sad, but we can extend our careers by working on our skills, having a healthy, well-rounded life, and by creating performing opportunities that do not rely on the acceptance of our talent by a producer. Do concerts, be in theater, volunteer to give a benefit recital for a worthy organization. Use the years of training and performing experience to be creative in your own job creation. We have to market the wonder that we are, not try to be what we are not.”
