The evening has finally arrived: it is your student’s senior recital. The music has been selected, coached, rehearsed, and memorized. The hearing has been passed, the accompanist paid, and the dress or tuxedo chosen. The magic hour approaches, and the young singer steps out onto the stage to the applause of perhaps a dozen people. Nine of them are family, two are studio mates, and the last is a guy from the Music Appreciation class who needs just one more recital credit.
It is an all-too-frequent scene that most of us have faced, either as teachers standing helplessly in the wings or as performers ourselves. Months of preparation and years of study, all poured into the desire to communicate some of the most exquisite music ever composed. So, why is no one interested in hearing it? Maybe it’s time to take a realistic look at what the song recital has become.
Academic recitals—those recitals with mandated components that are performed in order to fulfill an academic requirement—compare to compulsory figures in the sport of figure skating. Compulsory figures were exercises designed to prove the athlete had mastered the techniques demanded by a high level of performance. Scores from these exacting exercises were figured into the total composite scores for competitions. The public actually did not attend this part of the competition, however, as it was tedious in the extreme and interesting only to judges and experts. After decades of inclusion, compulsory figures were eliminated as part of official competition for skaters in 1990. Instead, skaters were now required to incorporate specific technical elements into their free-skating programs. The judges, the performers, and the audiences were satisfied.
Perhaps we could take a lesson from the world of sports and allow more personal artistic expression in culminating recitals. Instead of presenting assigned music as proof of mastering specific skills, students might be allowed to demonstrate their mastery of vocal technique through pieces in different genres and styles. Assuming that all required literature classes, juries, barriers, and proficiency exams have been passed before the recital, why not give students the freedom to design their own “free-skating program,” musically speaking.
Before you start looking up my address and the number of your local hit man, let’s remember that the song recital is not a very old, much less sacred, art form. In the late eighteenth century, the song recital was generally an informal collection of avid musicians and friends of the composer, all gathered together to hear some new music. Later, opera stars found it beneficial to present recitals for a more practical reason: it was a good way to build a following and create extra income with very little investment or time. In both cases, the recital was an evolving and entertaining art.
Today, graduating art majors create all sorts of computer-generated graphics for their senior projects. Drama majors write and act in contemporary plays that are part of the current cultural landscape. Dance students perform alone and in ensembles as part of their culminating event. Why are vocal music students forced to work in a seemingly unchanging and increasingly anachronistic medium like the traditional solo recital? Rather than require voice students to prepare an academic, formulaic exercise—i.e., compulsory figures—why don’t we empower them to once again work in a living art form?
To that end, let’s consider what factors contributed to the art song’s original popularity that we could apply to the song recital today. Here are some possibilities for consideration:
• Songs were predominantly performed in the native language of the audience.
• Performers used a musical language that was common to the audience.
• Often the composer was at the keyboard presenting his or her own music.
• There were no esoteric rules of recital etiquette to observe.
• Audience members felt that they were participants, not just observers.
• The performance space was often intimate, with the performer close to the audience.
My aunt, a trained musician, went to a lieder recital given by Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau years ago. The box office had inadvertently oversold the tickets and, consequently, a few people had nowhere to sit. Herr Dieskau suggested they be seated on the stage near him. My aunt was one of these lucky people. Every time she stood up for an ovation or encore, she dropped her program on the stage floor. Each time, Herr Dieskau stooped to pick it up and hand it to her with a smile. I promise you that my aunt never forgot that recital! Proximity can be a powerful force.
As a graduate student in vocal performance looking for inspiration, I read and reread The Art of the Song Recital. As a teacher, I have used it for years as a valuable resource. Throughout the years, however, I have steadfastly ignored the following quote, perhaps the most prophetic and challenging in this worthy book:
“Either the song recital must carve out a contemporary niche for itself, or it runs the risk of either disappearing from the professional concert stage, or at best, mutating into a total elitism practiced only by European specialists. Its rebirth is long overdue.”1
I propose that we, as teachers and singers, finally pick up the gauntlet that Emmons and Sonntag tossed at our feet 30 years ago. To that end, here are some ideas for teachers to consider for academic recitals:
• Allow students to perform in a language that is understandable to the audience.
• Whenever possible, include at least some new songs with the composer at the piano or conducting.
• Perform in more intimate, less formal settings. Consider putting the audience on stage with the performer or presenting recitals in private homes.
• Encourage the performer to talk with the audience during the performance.
• Allow the audience to be a part of the experience, not just observers of it.
• Encourage students to explore technical resources available to them in the twenty-first century. I can’t help but think of the recording Natalie Cole made singing a duet with her late father, Nat King Cole. Through the marvels of recording technology, she was able to interact and create music with a musical genius of the past. Could students do something similar? Imagine how much they could learn from that experience, vocally and stylistically!
• Create recitals that contain more variety—other instruments, ensembles, or art work.
• Realizing that approximately 65 percent of people today are visual learners, we could encourage students to make a solo recital more visually interesting.
• If adults today can concentrate for only seven to 20 minutes, how can that knowledge inform the way we organize recital programs?
We spend years teaching our students to perform and understand vocal music, but we often do not give them the permission to adapt their knowledge to the present, much less the future. Rather than trying to hold the nineteenth-century song recital forever fixed in time, like a mosquito in amber, why don’t we explore new ways to communicate through song?
The reigning queen of American classical singers is arguably Renée Fleming. This year, Fleming recorded a rock album, which premiered in Billboard Magazine’s Top 200 list—a first for the opera star. When asked about the reason for such a serious departure from traditional classical literature, Fleming responds:
“It’s become clear to me that lines are blurring in a way that promotes collaboration across musical genres. It is not clear yet where this will lead, but the choices are endless. It’s possible, I can well imagine, that this type of collaboration will help classical music move out of the museum and into the twenty-first century.” 2
If this Fulbright Scholar and Juilliard graduate can take such an artistic leap, then surely we can allow students to experiment and broaden their perceptions of vocal performance. Perhaps Fleming speaks for many of our students when she says,
“I’ve felt very strongly, for a long time, that I am an American, my culture is so multi-dimensional, and there is so much to explore. . . . Why should I be forced into a strictly European model in what I sing? Why can’t I explore the music I grew up with, the music I listen to?”3
Surely if we put our collective heads together, rather than in the sand, we can think of ways to re-create the recital that are relevant to the twenty-first century. Letting it evolve may be the only way to keep it from becoming extinct. We work in the creative arts—let’s be creative!
Endnotes:
1. Emmons, Shirlee and Stanley Sonntag. 1979. The Art of the
Song Recital. New York, NY: Schirmer Books, 3.
2. www.reneefleming.com/buzz/buzz.php?id=13
3. Ibid.
