Why I sing
A friend in a myspace group asked the question, what has been your proudest moment in your professional life? I thought about it, and started writing...
It was during my second semester at SMU. My teacher had forced all of us to do the DFW NATS (National Association of Teachers of Singing) competition. None of us really wanted to do it, NATS competitions are notoriously political and can get nasty if your teacher is feuding with someone else judging you.
But I had no choice, so I got to school at some ungodly hour to sing in the preliminaries, and then we all pretty much got to the semis. This was the graduate women's division. I was singing my aria for the semi-finals, from Bellini's I Capuletti ed I Montecchi. It's a non-Shakespearean version of the story, and in my aria, Giulietta is already about to be married to Paris. She sings of her pain, not having Romeo with her, having to marry someone else, etc.
So for the semifinals, we got to sing in the concert hall. I don't know what happened, but suddenly there onstage, I felt like I was IN a production of the opera, I was in costume, I could see the set, feel the lights. And I thought it was cool.
Two people advanced to the finals, and I was one of them. I sang first (all of this happened on the same day). By now, the finals were open to the public, so all the singers who had finished singing were there, teachers, parents, etc. It was electric. The sense I had of being in the opera itself was heightened, and of course, the extra energy from the audience gave me a boost.
In the end, I got second place. But I went down there to accept my certificate with my head held high because I KNEW I had sung better, and that I had connected to something in the aria. And the other girl knew it, too.
Afterwards, milling around, looking for my friends, I saw how people looked at me. Some came up to me to tell me how much they'd enjoyed my performance, and I could see it in their eyes. I had connected with them, too. I had touched them right in the heart.
And that is why I sing.
It was during my second semester at SMU. My teacher had forced all of us to do the DFW NATS (National Association of Teachers of Singing) competition. None of us really wanted to do it, NATS competitions are notoriously political and can get nasty if your teacher is feuding with someone else judging you.
But I had no choice, so I got to school at some ungodly hour to sing in the preliminaries, and then we all pretty much got to the semis. This was the graduate women's division. I was singing my aria for the semi-finals, from Bellini's I Capuletti ed I Montecchi. It's a non-Shakespearean version of the story, and in my aria, Giulietta is already about to be married to Paris. She sings of her pain, not having Romeo with her, having to marry someone else, etc.
So for the semifinals, we got to sing in the concert hall. I don't know what happened, but suddenly there onstage, I felt like I was IN a production of the opera, I was in costume, I could see the set, feel the lights. And I thought it was cool.
Two people advanced to the finals, and I was one of them. I sang first (all of this happened on the same day). By now, the finals were open to the public, so all the singers who had finished singing were there, teachers, parents, etc. It was electric. The sense I had of being in the opera itself was heightened, and of course, the extra energy from the audience gave me a boost.
In the end, I got second place. But I went down there to accept my certificate with my head held high because I KNEW I had sung better, and that I had connected to something in the aria. And the other girl knew it, too.
Afterwards, milling around, looking for my friends, I saw how people looked at me. Some came up to me to tell me how much they'd enjoyed my performance, and I could see it in their eyes. I had connected with them, too. I had touched them right in the heart.
And that is why I sing.