I just finished reading an article in the new June issue of Classical Singer magazine that seems particularly poignant to my life and some of the discussions I’ve been having lately with a very good friend of mine. In this article, Lisa Houston writes about passion and remembering why we love singing as much as we do. According to the article we must not forget how we fell in love with our art. She included a somewhat funny anecdote about singing at summer camp. Singing came after meals, and her fellow campers were taking their good time eating and getting seconds while she sat there anxiously waiting for them to get done so they could sing. Here’s what she had to say about that:
“I sat there fuming and tried to figure out how this could be happening. I came to the conclusion finally that maybe not everyone was as excited about singing as I was. This seemed very odd to me, even perverse. Sort of like it might have been to hear that not all kids liked ice cream. From that moment on, I knew that singing mattered to me.”
There was a journal exercise included with the article, consisting of the following five questions. (I’ve included my answers in italics.)
1. What can you remember about your earliest experiences with singing? Who was there? What was the place like? What feelings did you have?
My first memories of singing are from two places: around the piano at home singing hymns with mom, and at church. At home I’d sing with mom and my sisters, but usually just mom. We had a few favorite hymns, but the only one I remember by name is Pass It On (It only takes a spark to get a fire going…). Those times around the piano were fun. I enjoyed singing very much. I learned to sing parts by listening to my mom’s alto and my dad’s bass, although I didn’t try anything but melody until I was in jr. high. At church, my earliest memories of singing in church, of course we sang hymns and some choruses. I used to try to imitate an opera singer’s vibrato, because I thought that was what beautiful singing was supposed to sound like. My mom told me to stop singing with such a wobble. The funny thing is that I know I had never listened to opera at that time in my life. My mom doesn’t like opera, so I had no opportunity. I don’t know where the idea came from. I always expected someone to turn around and say, “My, your voice is lovely. I just love listening to you sing.” That didn’t happen for quite some time, though. Certainly not at that early stage. (I must have been about 6 or 7 when this happened.)
Later, in about 3rd or 4th grade, I figured out how to sing in head voice. I had no idea at the time what I was doing. All I knew was that it was easier to sing in tune and it was prettier than how I had always sung (pure chest voice). One day I was at a friend’s house (her name was Vickie) and we must have been singing, because she asked me how I did it. All I knew was to tell her that I sang softer. That is about the time, though, that I remember people started to notice my singing.
2. What were the sensations and emotions you can remember about the first time you sang for an audience?
When I was in about 3rd grade I sang a verse of Silent Night for my school’s Christmas program. I don’t remember a lot about that performance, but I’m sure I was terrified. I know I was proud to be singing it. Also in 3rd or 4th grade I had an acting part in a school play. I know I was terrified at that one! I skipped a line, and even though there was a teacher prompting me to say it, I refused to do it because I was so embarrassed. It seems so ridiculous now! One thing I remember about those two performances is that they were both televised by a local tv station. I thought I was so cool. I was a tv star! 
3. When do you feel that you knew that being a singer was your true path? If you are not sure that being a singer is the right path for you, what reservations and questions do you have?
After my freshman year of high school I switched from band to choir because I didn’t like my band teacher. I was very self conscious that first year, but my choir teacher started making comments about my singing. When I received the highest score on my audition for the advanced choir that year he made a scene in front of the whole class. I knew then that I had found something that I was really good at, and I decided I would be a choir director.
I thought that’s what I was going to be all through high school and most of my undergraduate career. But the longer I studied voice privately in college, the more I fell in love with it. By my final senior year (I had 3), I wanted to switch from music ed to vocal performance, but I thought it was too late. The defining moment, for me, was when a tenor named Ross Hauck came and gave a recital and master class at my college. The recital was wonderful, so I was excited for the master class. I was the first to perform, and apparently he was hard on me. I didn’t feel he was picking on me, but he appologized later for it. I thought he was silly for appologizing, because everything he said was right on. Anyhow, there was a moment during that master class, after I had sung through my art song (I think it was L’heure exquise) he had me sing a line of it again, and suddenly he was singing that line with me. It was a thrilling thing, even though it only lasted a moment. I was startled by it, so I stopped singing. I simply couldn’t continue. But that was the moment I knew that I was not done. I knew that I had to keep singing. It’s taken me a few years to get back to that realization, but I know once again that I simply must keep singing. And although I plan to go into teaching voice, I will never stop singing. After all, how can you honestly teach something that you do not do?
4. What early experiences do you remember as an audience member? Include time and place, who was present, and what you felt like during and after the show.
As a kid I didn’t go to “classical” concerts, other than my sisters’ school band concerts. I don’t remember particularly enjoying those. As I mentioned earlier, my parents weren’t interested in classical music. The closest we got to that was gospel singing groups, such as the Gaither Vocal Band. The more powerful recollections I have as an audience member begin in college. I remember listening to my undergraduate voice teacher sing a solo for the first time and wanting to cry. She sang so beautifully, I thought. I just wanted to be like her.
5. Do you usually feel connected to that sort of early passion when you sing? If not, what are the obstacles for you?
Lately, yes. The biggest obstacles for me tend to be stage fright, being overly critical of my own performance, and, lately, lack of opportunity to sing.
Another quote from the article, which I think summs up her point is:
”…it is impossible not to feel the pain of a culture that is less than supportive of the arts. It is essential that we reconnect with those early feelings, with the love of singing, the sense of belonging, and the excitement of possibility that first thrilled us.”
…the excitement of possibility… Just that phrase sounds exciting to me.
Houston concludes the article thus, “Let us old-timers welcome the new converts and give them all the support we can as they go out into the world to sing. Let’s look into the stars in their eyes and remember that once upon a time, it only took a moment for us to realize a lifetime love of singing.”
I love that she calls them “converts.” She’s talking about young people who are just realizing their love of singing. I was a convert in college. Literally. Before I transferred to the four-year school from the junior college, I wanted nothing to do with opera or classical vocal training. I didn’t want to sound like a wobbly old opera singer. I became a convert as I fell in love with the literature, and I remain a convert who is more convinced day by day, aria by aria, opera by opera.
If anybody is reading this post, I challenge you to answer those five questions for yourself. Even if you aren’t a singer, answer them about whatever instrument you play or whatever it is that you are passionate about. Remember why you first fell in love with it.
