I was still confused. "I'm sorry, but singers are musicians, too." When the laughter died down, I was firmly put in my place - wherever that was.
I thought a musician was someone who was skilled and had studied music. And it is. But all too often it is understood to apply only to instrumentalists - people who play an instrument. Why is this? A lot of singers just sing. They don't read music (last weeks' blog), they can't count, they have no concept of anything but singing as high and loud as they can. But, even singers who have studied music often aren't thought of as musicians. I think it has to do with attitude and level of study. You have to reach a certain level in your study to even think about being a musician. But you also have to be willing to place the needs of the music above your desire to show off.
I was very pleased a few months later when one of those same women said that I was more than a singer, I was a musician. What had I done? Played a Chopin piano concerto? Performed a Segovia sonatina on guitar? Composed a symphony? Nope. I sang the Bach-Gounod Ave Maria while she accompanied me on the harpsichord. (It turned out to be very difficult finding a good version of this that would show what I want. This is Kathleen Battle with Christopher Parkening on guitar. Notice about 2:09, he has to slow the tempo of the accompaniment down to accommodate her high note.)
This particular piece of music wasn't written by someone with a hyphenated name, but was written by two people. The accompaniment is Bach's Prelude in C from the Well-Tempered Clavier. Charles Gounod wrote a melody to go over the top of this previously existing composition. (Which was not originally intended for voice, or the Ave Maria, but that's another blog!) What had shocked my accompanist, in our first rehearsal, was that when the high note came, I hit it, and held it exactly as long as was written, and then continued the line, not requiring her to change the rhythm of the Prelude at all. (In fact, she started to pause, and had to catch up.) We finished the song, and she sat and stared at me as if seeing me for the first time. "Don't you want to hold onto that high note?" she asked.
"Under normal circumstances, yes. But, this song isn't quite normal."
"Its not?" Now she was confused. Where was I going?
"This accompaniment is a song in it's own right, and even came first. So, I think that takes precedence here, and so staying on the high note becomes completely inappropriate.
She sat at her harpsichord, stunned. Then she got up, hugged me, shook my hand and proclaimed that I was not just a singer, I was a musician.
What had I done that was so earth-shattering? I'd put what I felt was the integrity of the music above my own aggrandizement. That apparently put me in a different category than most singers. That saddens me.
I was trying to get into the circuit of funeral home singers here in Albuquerque. I went around town with recordings of my singing, cards, brochures, the works. While I listed myself as "Soprano," I also called myself a musician, mentioning piano and guitar. The only phone call I ever got from any of the funeral parlors was one wanting an organist. I explained that I wasn't an organist, but a singer who could accompany herself on piano or guitar. "But I need an organist!" "I'm sorry, I don't play the organ." "Your brochure says that you're a musician!" "Yes, I am." "Good. I need an organist." "I'm sorry, I don't play the organ." We went around a few more times before he hung up in disgust. Apparently, in this man's mind, musician meant someone who could play the organ.
But, aside from him, why are singers often not considered to be musicians? There are some instrumentalists who don't read music. But, for the most part, if you have reached the level where people are willing to pay you to make music, if you play an instrument, you have studied that instrument for years, maybe even decades. And reading music goes without saying.
Instrumentalists, especially those who played in band or orchestra in school have an advantage the rest of us tend to lack: they can count. Counting in music is vital and is sadly overlooked by a lot of singers. Pianists, too, unless they've played in some sort of ensemble, can sometimes have rhythm issues. If all you've ever done is solo work, you might never have learned the skill of counting.
Solo work. What fun it is to sing alone and not have to worry about what anyone else is doing. Of course, to really not have to worry about what anyone else is doing, you have to sing a capella - with no accompaniment. I've been to a few auditions where people show up intending to sing something a capella and sing their song in about 6 different keys. Unintentionally. I bet they wonder why they didn't get cast. I've had students who at first don't understand why I want a piece of paper with dots on it when I ask for their music. Those are times when I find myself understanding why singers have a reputation as poor musicians.
Music, as in reading music, is written on paper. It isn't played on your iPad. (See least week's blog) A capella is all well and good, but it is something to be approached with respect, after one has acquired an ear that is good enough to not switch keys every few words.
Sing in choirs. Sing in choirs in school, church, wherever you can find one. This tends to be the closest thing singers have to the experience of being in a high school band. You may even have to learn to count!
As a musician, one of the best things that ever happened to me was when I was taken off of first soprano and banished to second. I thought it was the end of the world! I was devastated. But, if I wanted to keep my scholarship, I had to sing in that particular choir. So, I sat down and learned how to harmonize. I had no idea it was so hard! Alto is relatively easy, I discovered. It's always easiest to sing the top note in any chord - tenors and first sops have it SO easy. The bottom note - alto and bass - is a little harder, but once you get the knack, it's a piece of cake. (Why is cake considered so easy? It's rather difficult if you bake from scratch. Of course, pie isn't easy either. . .) Anyway, baritone and second soprano is where true difficulty comes in. Hearing a note that is buried somewhere in the middle is not easy. It took a lot of work, but I learned how to do it. Now, I can sing any part you might feel like assigning me. But, that versatility took work.
Instrumentalists have it easy when it comes to playing harmonies. They're often given music that only shows their notes. They neither know, nor care, what anyone else is doing. If they want to hit an "e," they press down the proper key, valve or string, and . . . there's an "e". Singing is very different. We have to be able to hear what we're singing. We have to constantly gauge our notes against the accompaniment, and all the other voices. Are we the proper distance from each of the other parts? Are we forming the vowel sounds in exactly the same way as the other voices around us? Are we adjusting our vibrato to match that of everyone else? Is the consonant strong enough to make the words intelligible while not too strong to disrupt the flow of the music? And that's just the beginning.
I realize that an accomplished instrumentalist has a lot going on in his or her head, too. Vibrato is an issue with string instruments, and some woodwind. Breathing is important for brass and woodwind. But, singers remain the only musicians who cannot see our instrument. And, unless you are planning on learning Peter Frampton's talk box, we are the only musicians who have to throw words into the mix.
If you plan on performing, and who doesn't? Then you also have to add in acting, movement, and that indefinable something called "Stage Presence." Sometimes, I wonder if the distinction between singer and musician isn't because we are something more than a mere musician. But, then I come back to reality as everybody else sees it. Many singers are not musicians. But I think it's something we should all strive to be. (But maybe, not organists. . .)
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