This past Saturday I performed in a piece created by Susan Silton and my vocal teacher, Juliana Snapper. The piece, “A Sublime Madness in the Soul,” features a libretto that centers on issues such as gentrification, greed, and the pros and cons of living in a capitalist society, inspired by the real-life, rapidly changing landscape of downtown Los Angeles. Four vocalists, including myself, stood in the windows of Susan Stilton’s studio–which was recently sold–and sang to an audience that stood on the iconic 6th Street Bridge in downtown (a structure that will be demolished soon). The experience was definitely something that I’d never done before, using singing styles that more closely resembled the classical, operatic style.
(Viewpoint from where the vocalists performed in the Silton’s studio)
(Viewpoint from where the audience stood on 6th Street Bridge)
I’m writing this post to not only discuss the piece, “A Sublime Madness of the Soul,” but to broach an important topic that should be discussed among singers, musicians, and anyone in any profession that desires to grow or progress: Do something that scares you. Do something that makes you simultaneously almost doubt your abilities yet, at the same time, pushes you to take risks.
Many people might say that this is, yet again, another “duh” moment in terms of being a musician or artist of any kind–ideally we are always trying to push the limits of what we are able to do with our craft. I’ve heard this time and time again, yet it didn’t even really hit me until Saturday night, when I stepped up onto the platform to sing out a window to people standing on a bridge a couple hundred of feet away from me. I was terrified.
There I was, having to sing lines reflecting the angering economic and social situation of that moment, with no notes or sheet music of any kind except the script with the text and Susan conducting from a roof below. Would I start on the right note that could lead to a powerful melodic phrase or would I completely bomb it? Would my voice crack just as I decided to go up into my upper register? Would I be able to put just the right amount of infection in my voice so that the original intention of that phrase would be felt by the audience? I realized I should be asking myself questions like this all of the time. For every performance. And that, slightly unsure feeling let me know that in that moment, that was exactly what I was supposed to be doing.
When you put yourself into situations that make you uncomfortable or that scare you, you grow. You discover things about yourself that you didn’t know before as an individual, musician, and performer. Pushing yourself beyond your limitations, you can experiment, finding what works and doesn’t work for you. I would encourage everyone to do at least one thing that scares them and pushes them in their life because in those moments you get to know yourself better and you feel the most alive. I know I did.
