Musical Meltdown

I'm a singer...or I used to be?  Ten years ago, I desired nothing more than to sing on Broadway and to be a big ol' muffin in college (that's what we called the musical theatre dorks.  They were always singing in the streets and they were so...cheesy and happy.)  But something told me that a solid acting program would serve me more, so I opted to study acting intensely while taking vocal technique and coaching on the side.  I also tried to learn how to dance and dubbed my weekly musical theatre dance class the "do one thing that is humbling" event of the week.

Well, I never did become a triple-threat but I did continue to spend thousands upon thousands of my own money on lessons and sheet music and musical theatre CDs.  I was the wedding singer for my friends.  I sang in church for all the holidays.  I did some musicals and frequently guested as a cabaret singer in Chicago.  But mostly I just auditioned for musicals and hung my head every time I had to dance.  And eventually I started hanging my head every time I had to sing.  I tried some new techniques that were "guaranteed" to make my voice more marketable, the main one being the hip Seth Riggs technique.  Maybe it was my teacher, but it somehow took all the fun out of singing for me.  I felt like my voice didn't meld with the technique and my teacher was so kind to tell me that I'd remain marketable to only the "blue hair" crowd if I didn't improve--all at the price tag of one hundred bucks an hour.  I can't really create a comeback to his assessment at this moment, but I did wonder why the dude plunked away on one of those cheap keyboards.  I mean, shouldn't he have been able to afford a piano at that price?  Anyway, I didn't stick with him for too too long, but his negative comments on all my audition pieces stuck with me and I started to feel inadequate every time I sang. 

I kept hearing the same thing:  I could act a song like nobody's business but I just didn't have the "wow" factor.  Well, to be fair, nobody actually told me that directly, but I was observant and intuitive enough to infer and to know why I kept playing second fiddle at my callbacks.

Which was okay!  Because I was starting to realize that Los Angeles was a lot more attractive  to me than New York  and I wasn't very excited about the state of Broadway musicals.  I'm still not.  Although, our fellow blogger Miss Emily is doing a fantastic one!  I wanted more depth than Legally Blonde the Musical.  I wanted something more real.  Something more tangible.

Ummm, also, I ran out of money when I moved to Los Angeles.  Voice lessons were the first thing to go.  And while I've done a musical project or two out in LA, it hasn't been my focus and I'm rusty.  I'm out of practice.  My thousands of dollars in lessons?  About as helpful to me right now as an eight track player.  It's been four years since I've been on my vocal game.

Which is "awesome," because my dear friend and fan of my voice gave my name to a producer for serious consideration in a very cool upcoming production of a certain Sondheim musical that would be an amazing opportunity.  My audition spot is basically guaranteed with a thumbs up to boot.  Omigod, I just heard my mother fall off her desk chair.  She's already booking her ticket to see me in a musical--it's her dream--and she'll be there opening night because she is so sure this is gonna be the one for me.

Except that I'm having a meltdown.  What to sing?  Everything is out of practice.  And it's freakin' SONDHEIM!  I have Sondheim songs, but nothing  good for an audition and we all know it's best to steer clear of Sondheim in auditions cuz who knows who the accompanist will be?  A Sondheim song is the easiest road to audition disaster.

Well, I've booked a vocal lesson with somebody I've never met but sounds real nice.  I bought a new warm-up CD from her and am practicing away but...need I remind you my eardrum is burst and I'm  having problems hearing?  I'll be out of town again this weekend and time seems to be slipping away.

And how do I even feel about my former musical aspirations?  Have I moved on?  Or am I afraid to give it another go?  I've moved on.  I think!?!?

I think I'm going to have to listen to Hairspray in my car tomorrow to find a little more clarity.  It's just so toe-tapping happy.  And I'm repeating your mantra, Mom.  You know, the one from that silly kid's book with the train?  I think I can, I think I can.  (But what if I can't?)

Sing-cerely,

Stacey Jackson