Ok. So after yesterday’s particularly angsty post which detailed the three weeks I just spent crying and moaning and self-flagellating in an attempt to come up with some aria recordings I can use for application materials for YAP auditions and competitions, here’s where I stand:
I have recorded two arias that I am mostly proud of. They are a good representation of the kind of singing that I can do consistently and confidently. Would you like to hear them? Ok here they are:
And I have one recording that is pretty horrifying and will never see the light of day. I’m inclined to think that the particular aria is the problem with its high tessitura, exposed vocal lines, long phrases, and difficult coloratura passages, except that I have a recording from a coaching last month in which I sang the piece beautifully. I guess the low-pressure setting of a working session with a coach made it easier to just relax and let my instrument do its thing.
The reassuring thing is that the response to yesterday’s despairing essay showed me that all singers seem to have had similar experiences, even the really successful ones who have had robust opera careers.
So here’s what I’m telling myself: I’m a good singer. And I’m getting better. And I love to sing. I love to sing so much that I can hardly turn myself off when a song comes on the radio, or if I’m tidying up the house, or if I’m just sitting at the piano banging out a tune.
It’s scary to think that no matter how hard I work, no matter how flawless my singing becomes, I still may never have the kind of opera career I daydream about. But, as Mama Rose says in act I of Gypsy, “I at least gotta try!”