The Younger Woman

Cora Harvey Armstrong was quoted once as saying: "Inside every older person is a younger person...wondering what the hell happened."

This is something I've been thinking about a lot lately; looking back on the twenty-three years of my life that I've lived so far. Seeing there is already plenty of places where I could insert the words "If only..." and "If I had it to do all over again..." And for some reason, this scares me. Because I was always someone determined to have no regrets.

The potential for regret really smacked me upside the head a few weeks ago, when I was scrolling through my Facebook page because it was late at night and I had nothing else to do besides sleep (as a side note, I think more revelations occur on Facebook for people than anywhere else; learning our long lost love is now 'in a relationship' with someone else, hearing other friends have been married, seeing pictures of people all grown up, fifty pounds lighter - or heavier - and overall just seeming different than when we last really knew them).

Anyway...

While scrolling the main page and looking at all the various updates and new pictures posted by my supposed friends, I saw one picture taken of the Schnitz Concert Hall in downtown Portland, Oregon...and on the front of the big white board, in big black letters, was the announcement that my old choir from high school - the one I'd helped build from the ground up - was performing with the Portland Youth Philharmonic, and featuring the brilliant soprano soloist -- (I'll omit the name for the sake of privacy).

I was in shock.

Because I remembered her; I remembered when once, what suddenly seemed like a thousand years ago, I'd been the featured soprano soloist, and she'd been one of the young things working her way through the ranks.

I remembered all those years as an alto section leader; when I'd been the darling of my choir conductor, who also happened to be my voice teacher.

I remembered that magical senior year, when everything had fallen into place. When I'd been offered scholarships from around the country, and how I was convinced I was off to a big, grand operatic career and that it was only a matter of time before everyone would see my name in big, bold, bright lights.

And then I remembered what came after as reality sank deep the claws of regret.

Those years that followed, of disappointment in my university experience. Years of depression. Of struggles with inner demons. Of struggles with the formal education machine. Years where the music simply died; where I didn't so much as open a book of sheet music for fear of bursting into tears because I would miss it so much.

This was where my brain froze: me, washed up already, with the young things who'd once looked up to me now threatening to pass me by.

So what did I do?

I took it to my voice coach.

And I cannot stress enough how important it was that I did this. A voice teacher is often times much more than someone simply helping you memorize a song or perfecting the slight accent in your Italian diction. At this stage in the game, they are also one of your greatest friends; one of your greatest supporters and allies. One of your greatest cheerleaders. And if you cannot go to them, who can you go to?

So I did.

I told him all about what had me down, and he looked right at me and said: "Why do you think you're washed up and going nowhere?"

I stammered. "Well...because, I..."

When it became obvious I had nothing to finish with, he picked the conversation up again. (Have I mentioned he has incredibly intense eyes when he's focused on you?) "Megan, you tried one thing, and it didn't work. So what. You're not the first - nor the last - person to discover a formalized music degree isn't the path for you. Look at me. I struggled with it too. So instead, you're here. You're here, and pursuing your dream again. Good for you. And you know what? You have plans. Big plans. So ask me again, in five years, who I think is washed up; you, or some of your other fellow musicians."

I basically just stood there like a blind, deaf mute without anything to say in response.

But it worked.

I actually heard what he said. And I felt the truth of it ring in my ears. And more than that, I was able to draw the mental conclusions that he'd not said aloud; namely that there will always be younger women. Beautiful women. With beautiful voices that enrapture audiences the world over. Because youth is a beautiful thing. And as humans, we're always on the lookout for the next big thing at any rate, regardless of the talent already on the stage.

But it doesn't mean those of us who are a couple years older have to give it all up and go home. Because guess what? At the end of the day, it all comes down to one thing: Who loves it more? Who wants it more?

This I know to be true: I love my music. And I love it all the more because I've had to walk through hell once or twice to get to where I'm at now. And there is absolutely no shame in it. Because now I know what I want. And I know what I have to do in order to get there. So what if I took a side path after people figured I was on the straight-and-narrow road to success? I guarantee you, the Megan Andrews who exists today will be far more prepared to deal with success than the Megan Andrews who was eighteen and fresh out of high school.

I have more confidence now.

I can look a conductor square in the face and tell him why I'm going to perform an aria my way, and not his. I can defend myself when people might otherwise blame me for a mistake. Whereas in the past, I would have hung my head, remained silent, and desperately tried to please everyone.

And a negative review of a performance?

Please.

After all the things I've been through, I don't think there's anything anyone could say that would make me want to quit now, or make me doubt my talents.

But in the past?

So no.

I'm not so devastated now.

Nor so full of regret.

Because I had to go through all of that, I think, to get here. And this, now, is just one more lesson that's important to learn; that every woman has to learn at some point, be it for an opera career, for marriage, or for the working world. The lesson that when you walk into an audition, there is always going to be someone younger, prettier, smarter, or with a better looking resume than you. But it simply can't matter. Because you are who you are, and I am who I am, and at the end of the day, I know I can sing.

How about you?

Waking Dreams

I'm really struggling right now with staying positive about the here and now moments, because every day feels like I'm falling behind somehow. Like I should be further along than I am. As though there is something incredibly important that I'm missing out on because my teacher is moving me along too slowly, or I'm not working hard enough, or there's something that I'm not quite understanding about what I'm trying to accomplish.

In short, the name of the game is patience, and lately it's been feeling like patience is winning the game handily over me and my own desperate need for success and instant gratification.

Part of the problem is that I'm almost too good about planning for the future.

It's that fine balance that I think we all probably struggle with; knowing where to draw the line. Where dreams have to stop, and we have to take some time to just live in reality for a while. Knowing when the moment becomes necessary to wake up for a time, and stop dreaming the days away.

Because I certainly know what I want in my life.

But because I have the same insecurities that anyone out there has about whether or not I'll get there, I'm desperate to move forward so that I can move through the uncertain times and jump to the success and security.

I want to go to Europe.

I want my life to really get off the ground.

And talking to my voice teacher about it is equal parts wonderful and terrible all at once. Because on the one hand, he thinks I have what it takes, and fully plans to help me get exactly where I want to go. But on the other, he throws around statements like "The next few years..." and "Well we need to give it at least eighteen months before..." and I want to scream! I'm restless! I want change! I feel like I'm spinning my wheels!

Now bless his heart, my teacher was very understanding and patient with me, and gave me the best advice he could - namely to just immerse myself fully in whatever I can with my music in the here and now - but it still at the end of the day boils down to me and how I deal with it.

It's not getting any easier.

But it's not like there's anything I can do about it.

So I'll just work on narrowing down my world to one day at a time. Every day I wake up, I'm just focused on today. Or at least, that's what I'll have to do when I start getting the proverbial ants in my pants that we all get at times. Nothing wrong with dreaming and planning for the future...but I have to remember that life is still happening in the here and now too.

Degree or No Degree?

I'm fast discovering that there's quite the little debate going on right now in the small circle of people I know regarding whether or not it's essential to have a degree in music from a recognized university, conservatory, or other institute if all you're wanting to do is perform. If you're wanting a career in music at all.

The main question that seems to get tossed around is when is a degree necessary, and when is it just icing on the cake?

Ironically I've found quite a few different opinions on this topic, and so I thought I'd share a few of those opinions with you and then throw mine into the mix as well just for the hell of it. Mostly because I think it's good that people throw these questions around. I think it's really important that everyone look at their own lives as individuals, and the only time I get upset when people have different viewpoints than I do is when they start insisting that everyone should think and be like them.

Okay...off the soap box and back to the topic at hand...

I've studied under three main voice teachers now, though I've also sung for various people throughout the country at different times and in different genres, venues, and styles. And everyone I come across seems to have a different take on what I'm coming to refer to as the 'proverbial question': degree or no degree?

Initially I started out going the route of getting a degree in, as it was officially called, Solo Vocal Performance. (Sounds kind of serious, don't you think??? Certainly very official, if nothing else...) But I almost immediately started running into trouble with the fact that I felt like I was being pigeonholed into something I didn't want anything to do with. I felt like the longer I was studying at the institute, the further away from my own goals I was getting.

And so in the end I left that particular major, and picked up a major in history instead, which I'm only a few terms away from finishing off and hammering on my wall.

Since then, I've met with resistance from some for still trying to pursue my dreams of becoming an opera singer, but I've also met other people who have had similar experiences to myself (like my current voice teacher), and are almost insisting there is no other way to do it then by forging your own path.

Truthfully, I still don't know what the best option is for the general population, even though I think I've at least found the best option for me personally.

I think a music degree is necessary for some professions, to be sure.

Conductors need it, composers need years of theory to understand what they're doing and analyze the music, teachers need it, and most instrumentalists have told me they need it too for some of their work. But I've still had plenty of people from those categories tell me they went a different route as well once they realized things weren't quite working out the way they wanted.

I think the thing I objected to in my own situation was more that it felt like everyone was being 'dumbed down' to the same level, rather than tailoring programs to each unique individual so that they could meet their full potential. Whereas now I have the freedom to do what I want because I'm not having to prepare for juries or obey certain 'rules' set down by the university. There are certainly other rules I have to obey, and other deadlines to meet, but those are all headed towards the end goal of a career. Not just towards playing somebody else's game to get the good grades so the G.P.A. doesn't suffer.

That's my biggest problem I think with that approach.

You put certain values on certain parts of the overall education, but music is so subjective. Each person will choose to focus on one thing more than another, and tailor it to their own specific career.

Especially singers.

We aren't like instrumentalists in the sense that every one of us has a unique instrument. Every one of us is born with a unique set of pipes that will perform a certain way, and we have to learn to play those instruments in our own time. Because the other reality is that what works for one singer won't necessarily work for another.

How can you put all of that into a degree program and ask everyone to do exactly the same thing?

Sure, I'll concede there are basics that it's good to know. It's important, I think, to have a basic concept of music theory, aural skills, and a basic knowledge of the keyboard. But I don't think 2-3 years of music theory is necessary. I think more time should be spent singing, and less time should be spent analyzing.

But again...that's truly just my opinion, because I've found a system that works for me. For someone else, a university setting might be just what they need to reach their goals. And that's perfectly fine.

At the end of the day, that's my ultimate opinion on the matter: that each individual musician should be allowed to dance to the beat of their own drum.

Genetically Predisposed?

I had a fairly interesting conversation the other day with my voice teacher, regarding the theory/idea that where a person comes from is a factor in determining what kind of singer they will become. It's certainly not something I'd ever really thought of before; I'd always believed if being predisposed to be musical actually existed, it would come from musical talent in the family, regardless of race, ethnicity, etc.

Like a tendency to struggle with eyesight, or poor hearing. Or having slower or faster metabolism. Or acne.

But apparently there are many who believe your ethnic background can have as much of an effect on the kind of voice you'll have as anything else. Sure, there are some people who are more talented than others simply because they are who they are. And yet people are actually able to trace certain characteristics that follow certain groups of people.

For example, the truly dramatic singers (the Pavarottis of the world, if you will) tend to come from Italy, Scandinavia, and Germany. The lyric voices tend to originate more from France and Britain. And he gave several other examples, which at the moment I can't really recall (I'll have to listen again to the recording of that particular lesson to hear it all over again, because I found it absolutely fascinating!).

Fairly intriguing stuff.

At least it is for me. Because while I love music, I'm a scientist at heart too, and I love assimilating that kind of knowledge. Odd though it may sound, if I'd not gone into a world of music, I would have gone on to become a doctor. So I always get a kick out of him explaining the anatomical and biological mechanisms of the voice and how the vocal chords produce sound, etc. Absolutely love it. And on that note, i was loving this discussion regarding genetics and how it can affect not just a singer's overall sound, but their stage presence and approach to music as well.

The idea being, of course, that there are certain things ingrained in our genetic makeup. Instincts, almost, if you will, that drive us to act and be certain ways. Not that we aren't individuals as well...especially those of us in America, who tend to be one big mix of several things...but all these pieces of our genetic makeup really do play a role in determining what we become later.

In my case, my ethnic background can be broken down thus:

1/2 German
1/4 Norwegian
1/4 Jewish

I've always been told I have a very dramatic voice; big and full and rich. And that the same can be said of my stage presence (something I've always found very funny given the fact that off stage I'm usually a pretty unassuming person). And interestingly enough, essentially 75% of my makeup comes from those parts of the world that are characterized as producing the big, dramatic singers. And then Jewish singers tend to always have very sharp, accurate ears, and that's another thing I've always been fortunate enough to possess.

So I definitely found it all interesting.

Will that alone determine what I do and do not choose to do for my career?

Absolutely not.

At the end of the day I'll do what my voice is capable of, and what I love, regardless of genetic predispositions of any kind.

But it's still an interesting concept to think about, to be sure. And at the very least, maybe it'll give me that perfect excuse I've been looking for to tell people I don't like singing French. After all, no genetic predisposition there, right? Haha!

...In Which I'm The Tortoise

So then...the topic of today's lecture is patience. Those who have it. Those who need it. And those who are constantly feeling like their lives are forcing them to take a step back and just wait, but who find such a concept exceedingly difficult (i.e. me).

It's always felt strange to me that one of the first words most people use to describe me is 'patient', when if you ask me I'd say patience is one of the qualities I've never mastered.

I'm always looking towards the future and tapping my foot, demanding it get here faster. Wondering why I can't just have what I want right now. Seeking not necessarily instant gratification, but fairly instant results. It's why weight loss over the years has always been such a challenge. You don't lose it over night. It's a fairly extended, sometimes seemingly endless process.

Of course, in the grand scheme of things if it takes you nine months to lose all your weight, that's not a long time...but when you're sitting at the starting line with no end in sight, it feels like eternity.

And that's where I have all my problems.

Which is why I'm going to have to learn some serious patience as I embark on the next step in my musical career with my new instructor. Because he's right; people don't become opera singers overnight. Rather they work at it for many, many years, and it isn't until a singer's mid-to-late twenties that they really start making any money with big name contracts. It doesn't mean you're not singing in the meantime; it just means it's always evolving, and you start on the low rung of the ladder and have to climb each rung individually. No skipping ahead!

Sure, there are some singers that seem to pass over certain rungs faster than others, and sure, I'm crossing my fingers and hoping and praying that I'll be one of them.

But here's the reality: I know at the very least I'll be here in Oregon through December 2009. Why? Because of some fairly poor mistakes that I will probably go into detail about some other time. So obviously no big, grand fireworks can happen before then.

Not awful, I suppose.

It guarantees I'll get at least another seven months of studying with Mr. Blaylock, which I think would be fantastic if the progress I've already made is any indication of where I can go with him.

But I can also confess to what I'm hoping will happen after that:

Deep down I'm hoping that somehow, between now and then, I'll magically acquire plans to travel to Europe as soon as I'm free to go after December. I can feel myself saying I don't want to wait much longer than that, and I certainly don't want to be in Oregon for a whole year plus.

I want to go.

Now!

And I have to slow down and learn to trust in my teacher and that he'll know what's best for me. Trust in the process, and trust that eventually he'll get me right where I want to be. And in the meantime...I have to be patient. I have to let all those other 'rabbits' jump ahead of me and not panic.

Because there are definitely rabbits.

I have so many friends who I feel are so far beyond where I'm at; with lives where they're seemingly doing everything I want to be doing. Everything I hope to be doing. And then the jealousy sets in, and then I get desperate and anxious and start demanding more for myself. Demanding that time hurry up.

But I can't do that.

As we all know, time is going to march along at its own pace and nothing and no one can rush that along.

Of course, I know if I emailed my instructor tomorrow and asked what he thought a rough timeline would be for me, he'd probably give me one. And maybe that's why I haven't yet. Because I'm afraid of the answer. Afraid of seeing something like "Well Megan, I'm hoping that in another two-three years..."

Which is silly.

So what if that is what he says?

If it means I have the huge career I want in the end, won't it be worth it? After all, in two-three years I'd still only be 24-25 years old! A young pup, by the standards of most opera performers!

But that piece of me that hates to wait...she's in my head too, tapping her foot and demanding we move faster. Harder. Move now!

And yet that's part of what's always gotten me in trouble in the past: pushing the envelope too soon, and watching the opportunity absolutely dissolve and erode under the pressure of it all. So I'm now trying desperately to learn from past mistakes, reign it in, and really trust the people I've supposedly asked to help me. Because they can't fully do their jobs unless I give them free reign to do it. Unless I stop questioning everything and thinking I know best.

But like I've said over and over again...it's hard.

Let me tell you, the older I get, the more respect I seem to acquire for that damn tortoise...

The New 'It' Man

Well I've done it!

Finally, after months and months of searching and researching and trying to figure out where and what was a good fit, I've found a new voice teacher. And he is absolutely amazing. I feel incredibly fortunate to have found him in the first place (a lot of luck involved...or fate lending a hand...take your pick...).

My mom is a Nurse Practitioner, and so while seeing a patient somehow or other my name came up, and she got the name of a Mr. Thomas Blaylock, who is the head of the Northwest Institute of Voice, along with a hearty recommendation. So she came home to me with the name, and I promptly typed in the name online to try and find contact information.

Initially that wasn't such an easy fete, because I couldn't find a Thomas Blaylock online or in the phone book, and nothing came up for a Northwest Institute of Voice either.

So I got creative.

I started looking at other hits, and sure enough the man's name came up a lot in the profiles of other artists (which I took as a good sign), and the Northwest Institute of Voice popped up on the profiles of other instructors (again, another good sign). So finally I emailed another instructor affiliated with the institute, asked if she might perchance know how best to get in touch with Mr. Blaylock, and she got me his email address and phone numbers and wished me luck.

So I called.

Got a lesson/evaluation.

And then he agreed to take me on.

I'm thrilled. I've had about five lessons with him at this point, and couldn't be happier. He and I work extremely well together, and I'm definitely looking forward to posting more regularly now that I'll have more updates for all of you! I'm going to attempt to post at least once or twice a week following my lessons to share what I learn and any progress I'm making.

Enough for now though...gotta run!