What is “art”? How can we distinguish “art” from just a performance? Why do we seek it? What are we searching for in this “art”? What thirst does it quench?
The world is looking for a hero, for someone who will have the courage to embody the essence of what “it” is all about. They (we) are looking for someone who will dare to be all they can be, someone who takes risks, someone who can become so “present” that it seems as if “time stands still.”
Why does the world seek a hero? There are many answers to this question. One answer: The hero is the embodiment of success and of surmounting difficult obstacles. The hero is a beacon of triumph. After all, if he or she can climb Mt. Everest, or sing Aida at the Met, so can I-we!
So then the question is, does the artist wish to pursue being such a hero? Only the individual can answer this question—and the framework of “hero” wouldn’t suit everyone’s goals or taste. On the other hand, what is there to lose by being all you can be as a singer, as an artist, as a musician?
To best facilitate this development process, the hero-in-training must be willing to:
1. Be open to the wonder and spontaneity of the universe.
2. Leave no stone unturned in research and artistic studies.
3. Commit to a life style that nurtures items 1 and 2.
4. Be totally present in the powerful moment called “performing.”
5. Develop a greater understanding of the relationship between the performer and the audience.
6. Honor the self, and honor the audience.
7. Create a space on stage where “time stands still,” where no other world exists for the performer—or for the listener
8. Live “it.”
Art is “mysteriously simple and yet simply complicated,” says Louis Menendez, vocal coach and conductor who has worked with just about every famous opera singer you can think of. “By ‘simple,’ I mean it utilizes two basic elements: lightness and darkness,” he continues. “Sound and silence are to music what light and shadow are to painting, as motion and stillness are to dancers. The mystery is in what is clear and what is obscured, and the balance between these elements at any given moment creates an infinite number of works of art.
“By ‘complicated,’ I mean snowflakes. Like snowflakes, there are no two alike. Art, like the voice, is cultivated by experience, which becomes knowledge. Though many learn the same things, we each have our own unique perspective.”
What does it take to embody the essence of art? Mr. Menendez believes that: “There is only one ‘art,’ that all of the arts strive to obtain this same goal. What is that goal? Ever the elusive ‘it.’
“‘It’ is that moment when you hear a piece of music or experience another art form and suddenly you realize ideas [and/or experience feelings] that cannot be framed by words. In that moment, you got ‘it.’ Perhaps you were bitten by the bug, [the urge to take a risk] or reconnected with the essence of the divine. Perhaps you understood the profoundness of ‘it’ and were changed by ‘it.’”
“How do singers create ‘it’?” Mr. Menendez asks. “Sure, we could imitate ‘it,’ copy ‘it,’ mimic ‘it.’ But that’s not ‘it.’ Dare to take the next step and question everything, especially authority.
“Understand that we are all authorities on ourselves. It is imperative for singing artists to have or develop self-awareness, because it is in the knowing—combined with the learned information and the free expression of the emotions—that the singer can successfully communicate ‘it’ to the audience.”
‘It’ = Hero
Mr. Menendez shares his formula for the research/artistic studies aspect of artistic development. It goes something like this:
“In the first part of the equation, the ‘T’ is for Text and ‘M’ is for Music,” he explains. “The most important factor is the ‘W’ underneath.
“Let’s start with ‘W.’”
‘W’ = Who.
“I encourage all artists to answer these questions: Who wrote the ‘T’? Who wrote the ‘M’? Did ‘T’ know ‘M’? Did they work together? Who premiered this? Who has sung it since?”
‘W’ = What?
“What is the ‘T’? Is it a poem, myth, fairytale, haiku, sonnet, play, etc.? What is ‘M’? What is its form? Is it part of something longer: waltz, march, minuet, song, etc.? Is it strophic, or through-composed? What is ‘T’ saying? What is ‘M’ saying or representing? This is one of my favorite questions.
“To assist you in your search, I would like to quote a famous list by the composer Johann Mattheson, who wrote in 1713 that: ‘everything could be portrayed in music … love, jealousy, hatred, gentleness, impatience, lust, indifference, fear, vengeance, fortitude, timidity, magnanimity, honor, dignity, baseness, splendor, indulgence, pride, humility, joy, laughter, weeping, mirth, pain, happiness, despair, storm, tranquility, even heaven and earth, sea and hell—together with all the actions in which men participate.’”
As part of your research, continue with the thread of the Menendez formula and ask yourself these questions:
‘W’ = When?
“When were ‘T’ and ‘M’ written? Were they written at the same time? When they were written, what was the political climate? What was life like then? What influenced the composer and lyricist? Who influenced them? Who did they influence? When does this piece take place?”
‘W’ = Where?
“Where was ‘T’ written? Where was ‘M’ written? Where else can you find ‘T’ or ‘M’?”
‘W’ = Why?
“Why was this piece written? Was it a commissioned piece, and if so, by whom? Are there any sources—such as letters, reviews and biographies—that might give us a clue as to the inspiration behind it?
“Here’s my favorite test of what to ask while studying your score: Why that key, that time signature, that tempo, that rhythm for that phrase, that rhythm for that word? Why those notes for that syllable, that accent, that interval, and why those harmonies? Why are you not always singing the melody? Why that dynamic, that tessitura, that instrument playing in the orchestra? Why that harmonic progression, that dissonance, that cadence, that suspension, that deceptive cadence? Why that introduction, that interlude, that postlude, that breath in the ‘mid-dle’ of a word? Why that rest? Why would anyone in his or her right mind put a rallentando at the end of a very difficult phrase that ends in the passaggio? Why that tempo, that grace note, that trill, that cadenza? Why is that character saying this, or why isn’t the character saying this?”
Mr. Menendez reminds us that: “Finding the answers to the questions above in any given work is done without using the voice, yet this information is vital for a viable performance, because it informs the singer of what is behind the words. The words inform the sound, all of which is artistically and absolutely necessary for communicating the text.
“The following two parts of the formula are about application: Text, Music and Rhythm. With this, Aristotle has been my informer, or teacher, if you like. In his writings on poetics he says: ‘Just as color and form are used as means by some, who (whether by art or constant practice) initiate and portray many things by their aid, and the voice is used by others, so also in the above-mentioned group of arts [poetry, tragedy, comedy and music], the means with them as a whole are Rhythm, Language, and Harmony—used, however, either singly or in certain combinations. A combination of harmony and rhythm alone is the means in flute playing and lyre playing. Rhythm alone without harmony, is the means in the dancer’s imitations: for even he, by the rhythms of his attitudes may represent men’s characters as well as what they do and suffer.’”
“I wonder if Mattheson read Aristotle. Sound familiar?” Mr. Menendez asks. “In the manner of Aristotle, we take the score and dissect it into its three elements: language, rhythm and harmony. Speak the text! Speak the text in rhythm. Then sing.”
He continues with his formula: “‘P’ is for perspective. While doing this formula, the singer must always be aware of what he or she is searching for artistically. For example, are you looking through the microscope and micromanaging, and if you are, is it what you need to do? Or is your perspective gained best when looking through the telescope, where you have the bigger picture?
“The information you gain from working with the formula and asking these questions is helpful only insofar as you can acquire artistic insights from that information. Insight is what ‘it’ is all about.
“‘A is for ‘artistry.’ To have ‘A’ means we know who we are, in all senses of character and self.
“‘A’: We know what this means.
“‘A’: We are confident and know when to start and when to end.
“‘A’: We know where we are (perspective).
“‘A’: We know why we are singing (speaking).
“‘A’: Most importantly we know how to do ‘it.’”
Starting a new score or song? Start the formula again! Is it work? No, it is joy in discovery. It’s not about a stiff upper lip; it’s about a twinkle in the eye, a secret to be revealed, a gourmet delight to be treasured. It’s about laughter and remembering why we are alive and giving our voices a chance to sing with the depth and power of that place where “time stands still.”
Louis Menendez coaches privately in New York City, and is the music director of the New York Opera Studio. He has worked in the United States and in Europe and has been on staff at the Curtis Institute and the Philadelphia Academy of Vocal Arts. He can be reached at: 212/942-2052 or at louismenendez@juno.com.
