The Dame Malvina Major Wellington Regional Senior Vocal Competitions Aria Finals (whew!) were held last night in Wellington. It was a gorgeous evening of song, each of the 6 finalists performing two arias. I thoroughly enjoyed playing compere, a role I got because I was available and can pronounce all the aria titles.
It was quite nostalgic really, as I haven't done a competition in over 5 years and probably won't ever do another one (if I can avoid it). They are a fabulous platform for young singers to trial new repertoire and get exposure, but one could just as easily say they are a necessary evil. Some singers flourish in the competitive atmosphere, winning the judge's admiration, charming the audience, embodying all that we hope for the future of opera - an exciting young performer taking on the international stage and making us all proud. Other singers, often extremely good ones, fail to deliver, or are overlooked for whatever reason. It is a bit of minefield really, because in a small, regional competition you are likely to be at the mercy of a single individual judge and his personal tastes; in larger competitions you may have a panel of three or more judges, one of whom may adore you but gets outvoted by his fellow judges.
There is great controversy surrounding competitions these days, usually because it's almost impossible for a judge to come in without any preconceptions about one, or several of the singers. In some cases, the judge may in fact be the singer's own teacher - hardly fair, but singers often have consultation lessons, or masterclasses, with people who wind up judging them. It is not unheard of for a competition to be "fixed" and for audiences to walk away wondering how on earth the placings ended up as they did.
The question also needs to be asked, what exactly is being judged here? Hopefully, first and foremost, the instrument itself, what they're doing with it technically and the sound produced. Is it is a beautiful voice? But do not forget the huge importance placed in today's world on looks and presentation, not to mention characterisation, artistry, command of style, language, SONG CHOICE (!!! we have all learned this from American Idol, have we not?!) In short, the judge is looking for a "package", because guess what, in the real world, that's what's going to get you hired.
In New Zealand, the most prestigious competition is the Lexus Songquest (formerly Mobil) which has been won by the likes of Malvina Major (our beloved sponsor), Kiri Te Kanawa, Teddy Tahu Rhodes (for whom the term "bari-hunk" was probably invented), Martin Snell and Jonathan Lemalu who have all had (and are having) great careers. But there's also a bunch of legendary Kiwi singers who've never won, including Richard Greagar, Donald McIntyre and Simon O'Neill - proving that while a big competition win is helpful, it's not the only way to an international career. This helps me sleep at night.
What disappoints a lot of people (aka, non-singers) about singing competitions is the lack of bitchiness. Sure, a lot of singers may walk away feeling wronged, but I have never experienced any diva behaviour backstage - if anything, there is a real feeling of camaraderie. Singers are united in their powerlessness. As a group, we know that we're likely to be powerless in this industry for quite some time. Furthermore, the judgement doesn't stop when the competition's over. When we signed up to become singers, we signed up for a lifetime of being judged - by agents, managers, casting directors, conductors, coaches, critics, not to mention the audience! You can understand why we don't have time for bitchiness amongst ourselves - there's plenty of it out there already.
But for all my moaning about competitions, so much can be gained from them. In that nerve-wracking, high-stress performance environment, you can do the best singing you've ever done. You may discover facets to the character that you didn't realise were there. That technical thing you've been working on may suddenly fall into place. You might experience that utterly magical moment when you realise that you've wrapped the audience around your little finger and everyone has goosebumps. And if you are successful, you're looking at anything from $4,000 to $15,000 (for the New Zealand Aria) in prize money. Sah-weeeeeet!
It would be so lovely if more people turned out to watch these competitions. The work put in to make them happen - and I'm not talking just about the singers preparing their repertoire for months, if not years, and competing at often great cost, what with travel and accommodation - I'm talking about behind the scenes: the teachers, coaches, accompanists, long-suffering parents and partners and everything they do to support them. The organisations who run the competitions are made up of volunteers who devote hours and hours, purely for the love of the art form, and their fervent desire to somehow help these young singers develop their performance. Those - often unnamed - men and women, who type up the programmes and chase down the sponsors and lay out the spreads, are the real winners.
It costs less than a movie ticket to go along to an aria final and watch a star (or several) be born! Allez, vite!
GEORGIA'S ARIA STYLING TIPS
Gentlemen: tuxedo. Shiny shoes. Clean shaven unless you're a baritone and singing something sexy like Don G or Valentin in Faust.
Ladies: I have an issue with open-toed shoes. Think about the people in the front row who can see your feet. Feet are not sexy. Mezzos singing trouser roles who have the figure for it should go nuts with super hot androgynous outfits (check out Dita von Teese in a tux). Gowns must be floor length. Lose the granny shawl or wrap around your shoulders - if you're nervous about looking too bare in a strapless dress, get a bigger fake diamond necklace. Tonight is the night for red lipstick. Satin in general is a HUGE no-no, aria competitions are no exception.
Disregard all rules if you look like Jonas Kaufmann, Anna Netrebko or Erwin Schrott. Wear a garbage bag and win the whole damn thing.
Posted by Georgia Jamieson Emms
It was quite nostalgic really, as I haven't done a competition in over 5 years and probably won't ever do another one (if I can avoid it). They are a fabulous platform for young singers to trial new repertoire and get exposure, but one could just as easily say they are a necessary evil. Some singers flourish in the competitive atmosphere, winning the judge's admiration, charming the audience, embodying all that we hope for the future of opera - an exciting young performer taking on the international stage and making us all proud. Other singers, often extremely good ones, fail to deliver, or are overlooked for whatever reason. It is a bit of minefield really, because in a small, regional competition you are likely to be at the mercy of a single individual judge and his personal tastes; in larger competitions you may have a panel of three or more judges, one of whom may adore you but gets outvoted by his fellow judges.
There is great controversy surrounding competitions these days, usually because it's almost impossible for a judge to come in without any preconceptions about one, or several of the singers. In some cases, the judge may in fact be the singer's own teacher - hardly fair, but singers often have consultation lessons, or masterclasses, with people who wind up judging them. It is not unheard of for a competition to be "fixed" and for audiences to walk away wondering how on earth the placings ended up as they did.
The question also needs to be asked, what exactly is being judged here? Hopefully, first and foremost, the instrument itself, what they're doing with it technically and the sound produced. Is it is a beautiful voice? But do not forget the huge importance placed in today's world on looks and presentation, not to mention characterisation, artistry, command of style, language, SONG CHOICE (!!! we have all learned this from American Idol, have we not?!) In short, the judge is looking for a "package", because guess what, in the real world, that's what's going to get you hired.
In New Zealand, the most prestigious competition is the Lexus Songquest (formerly Mobil) which has been won by the likes of Malvina Major (our beloved sponsor), Kiri Te Kanawa, Teddy Tahu Rhodes (for whom the term "bari-hunk" was probably invented), Martin Snell and Jonathan Lemalu who have all had (and are having) great careers. But there's also a bunch of legendary Kiwi singers who've never won, including Richard Greagar, Donald McIntyre and Simon O'Neill - proving that while a big competition win is helpful, it's not the only way to an international career. This helps me sleep at night.
What disappoints a lot of people (aka, non-singers) about singing competitions is the lack of bitchiness. Sure, a lot of singers may walk away feeling wronged, but I have never experienced any diva behaviour backstage - if anything, there is a real feeling of camaraderie. Singers are united in their powerlessness. As a group, we know that we're likely to be powerless in this industry for quite some time. Furthermore, the judgement doesn't stop when the competition's over. When we signed up to become singers, we signed up for a lifetime of being judged - by agents, managers, casting directors, conductors, coaches, critics, not to mention the audience! You can understand why we don't have time for bitchiness amongst ourselves - there's plenty of it out there already.
But for all my moaning about competitions, so much can be gained from them. In that nerve-wracking, high-stress performance environment, you can do the best singing you've ever done. You may discover facets to the character that you didn't realise were there. That technical thing you've been working on may suddenly fall into place. You might experience that utterly magical moment when you realise that you've wrapped the audience around your little finger and everyone has goosebumps. And if you are successful, you're looking at anything from $4,000 to $15,000 (for the New Zealand Aria) in prize money. Sah-weeeeeet!
It would be so lovely if more people turned out to watch these competitions. The work put in to make them happen - and I'm not talking just about the singers preparing their repertoire for months, if not years, and competing at often great cost, what with travel and accommodation - I'm talking about behind the scenes: the teachers, coaches, accompanists, long-suffering parents and partners and everything they do to support them. The organisations who run the competitions are made up of volunteers who devote hours and hours, purely for the love of the art form, and their fervent desire to somehow help these young singers develop their performance. Those - often unnamed - men and women, who type up the programmes and chase down the sponsors and lay out the spreads, are the real winners.
It costs less than a movie ticket to go along to an aria final and watch a star (or several) be born! Allez, vite!
GEORGIA'S ARIA STYLING TIPS
Gentlemen: tuxedo. Shiny shoes. Clean shaven unless you're a baritone and singing something sexy like Don G or Valentin in Faust.
Ladies: I have an issue with open-toed shoes. Think about the people in the front row who can see your feet. Feet are not sexy. Mezzos singing trouser roles who have the figure for it should go nuts with super hot androgynous outfits (check out Dita von Teese in a tux). Gowns must be floor length. Lose the granny shawl or wrap around your shoulders - if you're nervous about looking too bare in a strapless dress, get a bigger fake diamond necklace. Tonight is the night for red lipstick. Satin in general is a HUGE no-no, aria competitions are no exception.
Disregard all rules if you look like Jonas Kaufmann, Anna Netrebko or Erwin Schrott. Wear a garbage bag and win the whole damn thing.
Posted by Georgia Jamieson Emms