A breakthrough

So last night was yet another sung audition. But oh, what a difference!

First, a little background.

Due to "a series of unfortunate events" that would take way too long to go through, I somehow managed to develop a singing phobia. As in, the only time I could sing was if my voice was safely buried in a choir or other large group, or when driving alone in the car. But even when I was driving alone, if another car pulled up beside me, I would get sick to my stomack, sweat, and have to stop singing. I even had trouble singing lulabies to my then infant daughter.

But I can remember what it was like to love singing. To love bringing the song to life with sound and emotion. And I wanted to see if I could find that again.  So enter Michelle.

Michelle is a wonderful woman, actress, singer and vocal coach. She's a rather well known actress here in the Twin Cities. We totally lucked into lessons with her through a camp Mim attended and absolutely loved.

Now, if you know me at all, you know I'm not much of a believer in luck. I detect more than just a smidgen of God's hand at work in all this. :-)

I'm not even sure Michelle could hear me in that first lesson. It took every ounce of strength and faith I had to make any noise at all even remotely resembling singing. I could tell, as lessons progressed, that the poor woman didn't really realize what she had gotten herself into. She couldn't really understand my "reluctance" to sing out.

But it wasn't really reluctance. It was fear. Pure, primal, twist the gut fear. It took almost a year for me to start to feel anything even remotely comfortable when I opened my mouth, even with her saying almost every week, in every way she could figure out, that I did have a voice and was somewhat competent in using it.

My first sung audition was....painful. There was a desperation in it, a "holding on by the skin of my teeth" feel. But I got through it. It must not have been quite as bad as I thought, since I was asked to stay and read AND dance (we're not even going to talk about dancing at this point... oy!) Anyway, long story short, I didn't get cast. But neither did about 75% of the people who auditioned. More importantly to me, I survived the experience, my one goal for the audition.

Fast forward almost 3 years. I've been in over 10 shows since then, some plays but mainly musicals. I've even had a couple of one-line sung solos. So I've come a Looooooonnnggg way. But, every time I sing for an audition, I feel like I'm saying "Yeah, I can carry a tune. I'll do fine in your chorus. Sorry I'm not lead material." I never really believed I could sing well enough to do anything else.

Enter yesterday. I love the show I auditioned for. I love the role I auditioned for. That role's a lead. That creates a conflict within myself. I'm not lead material. I can go for it, but I know it won't happen. But I love that role... so the endless loop goes.

Before our audition, we were blessed to go to Michelle's for a lesson/warm up. During that time, she said something that meant the world to me. We've been having REALLY good lessons, especially with this song. During yesterday's lesson, I mentioned basically that I knew there was very little chance of me getting the lead. Michelle said, very quietly, "I don't think it's a long shot at all." And she meant it.

So I went to the audition for the first time believing that maybe, just maybe, this might be true. I entered the audition room, nervous, but finding that I trusted Michelle and the work we've done. I sang out, not quite as well as at Michelle's, but well enough. No cracks, no squeaks, no gasps for breath. The desparation of that first audition was forgotten, and I - almost - lost myself in the song.

And then it was over. That's the thing with auditions. You shake, you worry, you work, you audition, and then... nothing. At least for a few days. If you don't get in, you never know why you didn't. If you do, you rarely really know why you did.

I ended up staying after I sang to cheer on and support friends who were also auditioning. I heard 3 other women sing the same song I did (provided by the theater for women of a certain age :-). Now, normally when I do that, I simply manage to confirm to myself my poor view of my singing and my chances. But, this time, it was different. I was able to start my listening at a neutral place, instead of deep within my own belief in my shortcomings and failings. One woman seemed to have great difficulties with pitch and rhythm. One had a beautiful operatic voice. This sort of thing used to immediately convince me that I was hopeless. But as I listened, I realized that just having an incredible operatic voice wasn't enough. While the woman sang beautifully, there didn't seem to be any connection to the song. It became a bit of an operatic aria, instead of the ballad it really was. Beautifully sung, but not performed. The third woman also had a very nice voice, but, again, no performance. There was no varying of tone or volume, no "telling of the story" the song presented.

Now, I will admit that I have no idea what the director is looking for. Sometimes a part is cast more on look (and availability) than necessarily on talent or ability. But I can say one thing without doubt. I sang with heart.  I didn't just sing a song. I told a story - with words, movement and emotion. I varied volume. I varied intensity.  For the first time, the story of the song became my focus, instead of the story of my singing. I can't say that I heard that from any of the other women. Who knows if that will make a difference in whether or not I get a role. But it made a huge difference to me. I learned that, sometimes, I really can sing.

Thank you, Michelle.