Auditions?

(It seems like this post has taken forever to write! Part of the problem has been a lack of synonyms for "audition." When you write the same word over and over, it starts to look strange. And then it looks wrong. And finally, it ceases to have any meaning whatsoever. But with a little help from my friends, as the Beatles said, I get by. Many thanks to all of you who helped with this process. I think you'll see some of your helpful words scattered here and there.)

To paraphrase Dragnet: The stories you are about to read are true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

One of my friends, Elliott, says that opera is broken. Opera stages use microphones and singers are cast depending on how they will look in the size 10 dress, and not on how well they can sing the role. Several web articles that I've read say that the music industry is changing: vinyl is dead and gone, 8-tracks and cassettes have gone the way of the dodo, CDs are rapidly becoming a thing of the past as downloads become the standard for music. Autotune allows lovely people with no sense of pitch to have successful carreers as "singers." Performers now routinely lip-sync concerts and even inauguration anthems. (No, I was not surprised.) Music has changed. Perhaps Elliot is right, and opera, and all of music, is broken. But, does that excuse us from trying to keep Art alive?

Over the past few weeks I have helped four of my students prepare for auditions. Nate and Sophy have had their tryouts thus far, and both have done well; Sophy got into the choir, and Nate got a part in the musical. Sarah-Jane and Rose have their skill demonstrations next week. But in all of my years of enduring this torture, and screening the poor torture victims, three of these inquisitions just don't make sense to me. I've been wracking my brain trying to find a kind and diplomatic way to put this, but I'm all out of ideas. Some of these auditions are just plain stupid.

Most vocal skill demonstrations that I am familiar with consist of the singer coming in with a carefully prepared song, and either music for the accompanist or bringing an accompanist with them. So, the equation consists of a singer and an accompanist, usually a pianist. Occasionally, I have had young people bring in a CD and they then sing the piece karaoke-style. And, I must admit, when I see the CD player come out, I cannot help but sigh. I don't want to hear the kid sing a Taylor Swift song just like Taylor Swift. If they have to make me listen to a Taylor Swift song, at least add a some small hint of originality. We're trying to show some level of musical talent, right? Not just mindless regurgitation of what you've heard umpteen gazillion times on the radio. Right? (Please say that I'm right.)

But, in helping these students, I have discovered that there is another type of vocal casting. And it leaves me feeling very confused. In this, the singer comes in, announces the name of their song, and sings. There is no accompaniment, and they don't even get an opening pitch. They just sing. (Rose tells me that they haven't yet earned the privilege of singing with the piano. I've loaned Rose my pitch pipe. She and Sarah-Jane plan on sharing it, to get pitches before they are called into the actual Inquisition.)

Oh, and for Sarah-Jane and Rose, the song must last 60 seconds. Songs that last longer will cause that person to lose points. (Don't even get me started on that!) 

I've been behind the table at several cattle calls, and I've got to tell you that if someone comes in and sings a cappella they are not even considered for a part. This type of performance proves only that you can sing along with the radio, remember what you've heard, and give an approximate vocal rendition of that. And, it's very important to remember that what you are hearing in your head bears very little resemblance to what we are hearing. You may be hearing Katy Perry, but we might be stuck hearing William Hung.

Yes, there's the question of whether the singer has a voice that you'd want to listen to. But what you should also be listening for in a vocal demonstration preparing for a choir or a show includes: 
   Can they keep the beat set by the piano? 
   Can they hit the pitches given in this key? 
   Can they blend with the other voices?
   Can they sing harmony parts, as written?
   Can they portray the emotion of the song? 

For many, though, the "emotion" question comes WAAAAAY after questions involving the music.

How can an a cappella rendition of a song tell the choir director anything? Unless the student's sense of pitch is very, very good, the song will go off into several different keys before it's finished (and sometimes changing key repeatedly in one short phrase, as the notes get out of the person's comfortable range). Unless the choir always sings a cappella, there is a pianist playing under each song. This type of regurgitating fails to show how the singer reacts to singing with the piano. 

Oh, and there's another issue. This type of artistic job interview does not require the least bit of knowledge of printed music. And, contrary to what is shown each week on Glee, school choirs almost always have printed music. Rehearsals consist of working on notes and rhythms, and not just kids who instinctively know complex orchestrations and choreography right off the bat. 

Singing in a group requires the ability to follow direction, and to blend with the other voices, and not just being able to belt out Pink's latest hit. 

I really do not understand what is going on with the music in our schools! I suppose I should just be glad that there is music of some sort there. 

But not all of the casting-calls have been for choirs. Nate tried out for a musical put on by a community theater.  I wasn't there, but I have no doubt that he sang very well: his sense of pitch is excellent. When I found out that the try-out was a cappella, though, I suggested that he take the song down a step. Why sing out his top performance note unaccompainied? The piano can help to give the singer a sense of security that singing alone lacks. He had a piano app on his phone that would give his starting pitch. 

He got a part. Not exactly the one he'd wanted. He'd hoped for the romantic lead. But, being a baritone, he's already getting used to playing a villain. Tenors get the girl in the end;  baritones end up bereft and sad. However, in this case, the villian is also a tenor. The role requires that he sing higher than he actually is capable of going. Several of his lessons have been taken up with me rearranging the part so that he can sing it. 

At no point during the audition was he even asked about his range. They apparently didn't care whether he could sing the part that they were casting him in. (Anybody want to shout, "STUPID!" with me?)

I'm told that American Idol auditions this way, too. You go in, announce your name and the song, and you sing. They hear thousands of people this way. I suppose in this instance, it makes sense. They don't care if you can read music, or blend, or sing what's on the written page. 

They are looking for people who are marketable, whether that means talented, or lovely, or capable of pulling at the heart-strings of the American populace. Often, I think, actual talent is last on the list of what they want. 

But, between Glee and Idol, people have gotten a skewed idea of what singing (and in this case, auditioning) involves. And some of this is coming from the few teachers of music in our schools. I should be surprised. But I'm not. 

Let me tell you about Mickey.  He has a degree in music, and a teaching certificate. He is fully qualified to teach music in our public schools. The bad news is that his degree in not just in music, it's in guitar. 

He cannot play the piano. He cannot even read the bass clef. I've heard him sing: William Hung comes to mind as being better. And he is teaching middle schoolers how to sing in a choir. Is it any wonder that these kids think Glee is real? He is not the teacher involved in the auditions that I'm complaining about, but if that is how "qualified" he is, it's hard to imagine that he's not alone. 

If you're wondering why I haven't talked about Sophy's audition, well, it went the way it's supposed to. We worked on a song; I helped her prep her folder; coached her on how to talk to the pianist, so that he could play in a way that would help her; she went; she sang; she conquered. 

Since I started this, I've gained another student. Parker went to a college, wanting to become a voice major. She had to sing before a panal of the department voice teachers. Having no experience of anything other than American Idol, she walked in, introduced herself, and began to sing a song. We are going to prepare her for her next attempt in the fall. I'm confident that she'll do quite well. 

What are we teaching? Is this the future of all music? Is there still a place for actual talent or is the future going to be auto-tuned to death? I thought our schools were supposed to prepare our young people for the real world or at least college. 

I don't have a resolution or even a summary this week. I feel like Peter Finch's character in  the film Network. "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore!" But, as long as I have students who are being forced to audition this way, I have to take it. So, I'm just mad as hell.