Total Pageviews

Sunday, October 12, 2025

Artistic Director

 This fall I began a new adventure: Artistic Director for TriCities Opera in Binghamton, NY

To say I'm excited is certainly shortchanging my myriad of emotions. Delighted, thrilled, pleased-as-punch, moved, exhilarated, and as Little Red sings in Into the Woods: "excited and scared!"

The positive emotions are to be expected, but scared? Maybe not scared, perhaps a wee bit nervous. Anyone working in non-profit arts organizations in America should be nervous. The specific genre of opera has its challenges nowadays - aging audiences, stereotypes of elitism, the cost of producing opera, the drop in philanthropy, the difficulty in securing government grants (local, state, and federal), holding on to quality staff, nurturing local community resources and people (from car rentals to choristers), rising costs of everything... (The list does go on and while I'm typing it, the anxiety stirs anew!)

I'm a pragmatic guy who's also been described as a futurist. Always looking ahead and envisioning how things might change for the better, but balanced with an ability to see the big picture. In my world, nervous is a positive word. Many may not know that nerves are integral to successful performances; there's an energy with nerves that is needed to propel one into an artistic space. I've learned over the years to embrace nerves. It's an excitement of sorts.

So I'm thrilled, excited, scared, and nervous all at the same time as I step into my new role as TriCities Opera's new artistic director.

What's an Artistic Director?

Artistic Directors (ADs) come in many shapes and sizes. Some are former artistic administrators who excel in schedules and contracts. Some are conductors with operatic personalities the public loves and who sometimes push particular parts of the repertoire that perhaps the public may not love. Some are stage directors who have a knowledge of production and a savvy for the big picture but maybe not quite so interested in day-to-day details. Some might be current or former singers who've moved into administrative roles and learn about how an opera company works on-the-job.

Hey lucky me! I'm an artistic administrator, conductor, director (and former singer) who has experience in almost every job in the industry at big companies like Lyric Opera of Chicago to medium sized companies like Pittsburgh Opera to small sized companies like Eugene Opera to indie companies like Toronto's Opera5.

Some companies have a large artistic staff for the AD to supervise. At other companies it might just be the AD doing almost all the work. TriCities (TCO) has also announced additions to the music staff: Giovanni Reggioli will be the Music Director, focusing on orchestral issues, chorus development, and all things musical. John Cockerill continues as head of music and running the Resident Artist training program that includes much of the educational and community outreach programming the company is known for.

TriCities (TCO) is a small opera company with a huge heart and a big season. There are four productions to put together (this year, Gianni Schicchi, Amahl and the Night Visitors, Lucidity (by Kaminsky), and La Traviata), the Resident Artist training program to coach, the educational outreach show to get to know, plus many extra concerts to help program, local chorus auditions to hold, and RA auditions in NYC to attend (check out TCO's website: https://www.tricitiesopera.com/). But mostly this first year will be about getting to know the company and the community even better.

When I lived in Ithaca, NY, twenty years ago (I taught at IC for seven years as music director for the opera and music theatre programs), I was also running the young artist program at Glimmerglass Opera. So my time was spent between Cooperstown and Ithaca. If I had any free time it was to be with my family. I never was able to get to know TCO during that time, although I was quite aware of its legacy and programming even then. And now, it's just been about a year and a half since I first had any connection with TCO, and that was really only by happenstance.

Back in late 2023, John Rozzoni (General and Artistic Director for TCO at the time) hired Giovanni Reggioli to conduct their 2024 production of The Barber of Seville. He was still in need of a stage director. Giovanni suggested me, but John thought there was no way I could do the gig because he knew I taught full-time at McGill University up in Montreal. Giovanni, however, knew otherwise - I just happened to be on a sabbatical for 2024. John knew me because, here comes the full disclosure, he had been a student of mine at Ithaca College way back when! So he hired me. Even though I'd conducted Barber many times, coached it forever, even administrated a production down in Miami, I'd never directed it.

But the cast was terrific, Giovanni was his usual genius with the score, the staff was super supportive. However, it was the production team and TCO's warehouses of sets, props, and costumes that really intrigued me. I had no idea how much was there! If you don't know, check out their rental site: https://www.tricitiesopera.com/set-costume-rentals-2/

So when John asked me back to direct last April's Rigoletto to celebrate the company's 75th Anniversary, I said absolutely! I also ended up staging the RA's musical theatre revue A Grand Night for Singing, which I loved doing in one week. Getting to know the extremely talented resident artists better was the kicker there. During April, John and I started talking about the company and the possibility of my becoming more involved. It very quickly turned into John deciding he'd stay on as General Director while I would come onboard as Artistic Director.

So that's how all that happened. Many factors and lucky moments came into play here. For instance, Giovanni recommending me was something he could have decided not to do. I could not have been free, or could have shown up and been a disaster of a director on the Barber, or been difficult (like a few directors I've experienced over the years). John could have wanted to hold onto the artistic reigns (handing them over like he did says so, so much about what an amazing leader he is!) I could have thought that I was too far gone into my career to take on something so important and immense as an AD job at a company in the US.

It's no secret that I'm 60. I'm quite proud of my time on this globe. In my mind, I thought the possibility of returning to not-for-profit opera was something that would never happen because of my age. Many times, I've said "that ship has sailed" when people asked if I was interested in some job somewhere.

And I was very content up in Canada. Opera McGill, the program that I run at the Schulich School of Music in Montreal, Canada, is one of the largest opera programs in North America. Just last year we produced 8 shows and hosted 2 workshops of new operas. This year, we are producing 10 shows. Actually, that makes us the leading opera producer of any academic program in the world (unless someone can point me towards another program that did 10 shows!) I'm not leaving Opera McGill (not yet...), as I love teaching and even after 18 years there's still so much to be done. Plus I love - LOVE - training and nurturing young singers. Seeing a 20 year-old learn their first role and helping them through that process, from casting to performance, is one of my big passions.

So I will bring my passion for education, for all parts of the repertoire - baroque to Mozart to Verdi to musical theatre, for nurturing young singers and directors, for developing community, and will mix that with my over 40 years of experience in the professional opera world (I started out way back in 1981 with my first professional job music directing Trouble in Tahiti for a theatre in Omaha.) I'll bring my crazy set of varied skills to the company, my old and new networks, and my desire to return the word "kindness" to opera.

First up was Puccini's comic masterpiece, Gianni Schicchi. We rehearsed it in a week and gave three performances (the last matinee is later this afternoon). A wonderful cast was assembled by both John and me - the wonderful Resident Artists taking on some great roles, wonderful community artists singing big and small roles (and a special kudos to our great corpse!), a few guests from my past - Peter, Marc, and Kate, a last-minute replacement for a guest who had to cancel last minute (who was terrific!), a great design by Amara*jk, lights by Jennifer Minor, and a terrific staff led by John all brought their best together. Giovanni conducted a new reduction (strings/piano) that worked brilliantly and our audiences laughed literally out loud throughout the performances. It made me quite proud and happy to hear all the laughter during such tumultuous times.

And I appeared onstage after a hiatus of 35 years singing the small (yet pivotal) role of Doctor Spineloccio. It was lots of fun to be back onstage - feel the nerves, worry about how the voice is upon wakening, get into costumes and makeup (not may favorite thing at all), and be onstage acting with former students, the other singers, and having to focus on a conductor for the first time since I sang Emperor Altoum in Turandot at Des Moines Metro Opera way back in 1988.

Anyone who conducts or directs or teaches or coaches opera singers should spend at least one show on the stage trying to do what they're teaching the next generation to do. Those who haven't been on the stage - in a role, chorus, even as a super - really don't know what they're talking about otherwise. There's an energy, a split in your attention span, a demanding focus that's physical, mental, vocal, musical, and dramatic to appearing onstage in an opera. The world would be a better place if more people got up onto a stage and created imaginary worlds for others instead of going onto imaginary platforms to share their uncreative memes about how empathy is a bad thing. One of the many things that theatre teaches is that empathy is how the world moves forward. Music triggers so many emotions in those of us who make it, and hopefully those who choose to listen to it. Opera gets the added punch of drama and watching the music unfold onstage!

It'll be a fun adventure that my wife, Elizabeth, and I are set to explore as we drive many, many miles back and forth between our home in Alexandria, Ontario and the Southern Tier. Fun fact: The trip from our home in Canada to the TCO office building takes only four and a half hours, the same time it takes us to travel to Toronto.

Feel free to write me at artistic@tricitiesopera.org if you have any brilliant ideas about the direction TCO should take artistically. Look for my blog posts here (and my old blog at https://patricksoperablog.blogspot.com/). Follow Opera McGill on Instagram and follow TCO on your socials too. If you're in the TriCities area (including Ithaca, Syracuse, Cooperstown, even Albany or Rochester) check out our performances! You'll see me prior to the La Traviata performance giving a talk about the show, and I'm planning on getting out into the community to talk about our season and opera as much as I can. If you'd like me to show up at your local book club, an Optimist luncheon, or any other type of community organization, just write me!

In the meantime, I'll be looking for suggestions on where to find the best donuts and the best diners in the area. Although with the diet I'm on, perhaps not a ton of donuts...

Monday, June 30, 2025

Are you a good witch or a bad witch? (Bad vs Good Habits)

The following blog discusses talent, a word that triggers me.

I hate the word "talent". What is it really? Is it nature or nurture? Ultimately I answer with: it's curiosity that gets nurtured at some critical point that then develops into skill sets that then become publicly identified somewhere, sometime, by somebody as "talent". My mom admonished me way too many times that I wasn't practicing enough and that I was wasting my "god given talent." Gosh I didn't like that phrase even when I was ten years old.

But more importantly, I'd like to talk about identifying and nurturing talent and those who like to judge talent based on their expertise (often that focuses on looking at what's wrong with the talent.) Often these negatives are collected into a list and if there's enough that seem resistant to change or seem untenable somehow, they get called "bad habits".

Bad habits are often used against the most talented. All of us who are even slightly successful have bad habits. Prime examples: Renee Fleming scoops, Pavarotti sang sharp, Corelli had a lisp. Lupone has - had - has questionable diction. The list is endless. Many see these as separate parts of the talent package that can be pointed to as something negative, something that must be fixed.

I don't. Well, not always.

I think many bad habits are often what makes people successful out in the real world. The academy is not real, and often the people in those ivory towers forget that.

Bad habits are bad, at least that's the general attitude nowadays. Sure, smoking, gambling, cellphone addiction are all bad for us. I'm not talking about those kinds of habits. I'm thinking about artistic habits. Those habitual things we do that create our art day in and day out. Musicians sometimes refer to these habits in a positive way - like habitual practicing, or skills, or craft; but I'd like to delve a bit deeper into the habitual.

Recently I did some binge-watching on Netflix (bad habit); multiple seasons of Supergirl. I've tried to follow the Arrow DC tv universe, but frankly often get bored with all the alternate Earth storylines. I used to drink lots of scotch during binges like this, definitely something that turned habitual until I had to stop cold turkey. Happy to report I'm still not drinking over a year later.

Another bad habit of mine is my writing style. Many have said it's a bit obtuse, long-winded, even scattered; too parenthetical with too many semicolons (see this sentence). I wish I had a regular habit of writing as I know I'd write more and probably more better (!).

A definition for the word "habit" is: a settled or regular tendency or practice, especially one that is hard to give up.

A practice! Aha! All us musicians love to practice! So that's a good habit, yes?

What's this to do with Supergirl? (See above about writing style...)

Getting there, but first a few random examples regarding these "tendencies", specific to some instruments:
  • Piano: Poor posture, tightening you pinkie or overcurling it during scale passages, throwing on the soft pedal to control dynamics, turning your head to "listen" to a singer to see when they might be breathing (even though you may not be seeing anything because said singer breathes without showing it), not breathing yourself before/during technically difficult passages, tensing muscles in your arms or shoulders before loud fast octave passages, practice avoidance then guilt...
  • Voice: Touching your tummy at the ends of phrases when you're running out of breath, flailing an arm out for no reason, the "baritone claw", fluttering you eyelids during coloratura passages, standing on tiptoes for high notes, taking too many breaths because you needed them years ago but no longer yet you can't stop them from happening, rolling Rs where you shouldn't in order to be expressive, spreading the tone in order to make the pitch, practice avoidance then guilt...
  • Actor: Stammering during lines to stay in the moment, tightening the jaw or tensing other parts of the body before a difficult emotional bit, adding dramatic pauses in the midst of a line, shaking the head "no" while saying yes (a Laban lie), using charm instead of acting choices, choosing a physicality for a character based on little to no research - just what feels instinctive, etc.
Spend any amount of time with someone who teaches a pianist, singer, or actor, and you'd discover the list of bad habits is INFINITE. When does this 'habit expertise' become a problem? Often during auditions: ("She has so many bad habits already, I don't know how I'd teach her" or "He's only interested in the sound of his own voice, so why would he be interested in being an actor" or "Her pelvis is so locked, there'd be no point" or "His singing style is one-size fits all, how could he sing other styles?" or "If we can only get her to calm down and not be so intense, she'd really have something.") I can't tell you how often someone is dismissed because of habits that a panelist might think are unlearnable. This happens in rehearsals too, after someone is cast. A director can dismiss a person's choices because they might be too strong to overcome or change. People leap to conclusions, often frightened of big choices, big voices, or simply people who walk in the room ready to go and - perhaps - not in need of "being fixed" (i.e. controlled).

Oftentimes, I find those sorts of people to be the truly talented ones in the room. The really talented people have habits that are oftentimes simply "bigger" or "more out there" or "louder" than other lesser talents who hideout in the room labeled: Mediocre Choices. I've said way too many times, "Yes, they don't do anything wrong, but they don't do anything right." My very best students and young artists are -- more times than naught -- the ones that get dismissed or put down by others as having "bad habits".

Many of these habits can be the thing that bring a young performer notice. Habits (good and bad) can get you into programs, schools, and casts. But what happens then? If you're lucky, you'll be in the midst of teachers and mentors who can discern what you might need to work on in order to progress. If you're a bit unlucky, you might work with someone who decides the thing to do is get you to unlearn your habits.

Now don't get me wrong, it's important to deal with actual problems that prevent a young performer from communicating to an audience, or playing their instrument. This is a vital thing, and frankly it's the crux of the definition: something that is hard to give up is a habit. Something that can't be changed unless a huge effort is employed is probably a bad habit. I try to teach good habits, like picking up a prop with your upstage hand, or remembering to not over-breathe for short phrases, or to relax and breathe before difficult moments onstage. I wish someone had gotten to Bartoli about her facial ticks, but she's amazing anyway (and famous and wealthy so who am I to judge?!). I wish that Costner had learned to act beyond himself, but he's done alright being plain ol' Kevin onscreen.

And so this past summer I watched Supergirl and got a bit teary-eyed watching Jeremy Jordan as Winn, the plucky, I.T., best friend-yet-in-love-with Supergirl's alter ego.

Jeremy was a student at Ithaca College during my last two years as Music Director for the opera and musical theatre program there. I was lucky enough to conduct and coach him during those years. He shined so bright that sometimes it was as if no one else was around. Jeremy was just one of many in a long list of talented Ithaca College MT students. If you're not aware of the program, look it up. You'll see under their famous alumni list, quite an astounding array of talent. Just on the male side of things during my time there were some outstanding students: Zach James, Matt Cavanaugh, Joe Ried, and Tony-award winner Aaron Tveit. Zach, a MT major, made his Metropolitan Opera debut a few seasons ago in Akhnaten. Matt starred as Tony in the Broadway revival of West Side Story (Jeremy was his understudy, btw) as well as starring in Grey Gardens and Urban Cowboy. Joe starred in London's West End production of Dreamgirls, and Aaron has reached beyond Broadway (Moulin Rouge, Next To Normal, Catch Me If You Can, Wicked, and Hairspray) onto the telly (Danny in the national broadcast of Grease) as well as film (that little Academy Award-winning flick Les Miserables.) Interestingly enough, these five men also had a tricky time making it through the rigorous acting review process infamous to North American BFA degrees. I can't say if it was the circumstances of bad habits, but part of the review process was calling out the students' weaknesses. (I was always on the fence for the IC review process, if the truth be told, as I think it cut out some remarkably talented students.)

Jeremy, though, was unique. Utterly.

Jeremy made me cry one day. (Let me be clear: I. Don't. Cry.) And certainly I don't cry during undergraduate callbacks for a sophomoric and inane musical about Dr. Seuss characters!

Jeremy had already made a huge impact onstage the year before performing the very small role of Nick Cricker Jr in The Mystery of Edwin Drood. I'll never forget cracking up during performances, as I was down in the pit conducting, watching him steal scene after scene - oftentimes without making a sound. He made the most unusual choices, instinctively knew how to read an audience's reaction, and kept an incandescent focus on the other actors onstage. It was as if he had his own spotlight following him around stage at all times. 

And the next fall, the dreary Seussical the Musical was chosen (yes, I was part of that decision). During the long hours of auditions and callbacks, it became clear that many talented students might get cast in small roles (Zach was a turtle. A super tall turtle), but who was going to be Horton?

We asked for "Alone in the Universe" for callbacks. Lots of students sang the song, all really well and every single student could have done the role justice. Here's most of the text from the song:

There are secrets on a leaf, in the water, in the air
Hidden planets, tiny worlds, all invincible
Not a person seems to know, not a person seems to care
There is no one who believes a thing I say
Well, I'm fairly certain that at one time or other
Great thinkers all feel this way
I'm alone in the universe
So alone in the universe
I found magic, but they dont see it
They all call me a lunatic, okay, call me a lunatic
If I stand on my own, so be it
Because I have wings, yes I can fly
Around the moon and far beyond the sky
And one day soon I know there will be
One small voice in the universe
One true friend in the universe
Who believes in me


It was during Jeremy's singing of this song that I started crying. As expected, he sang it exceptionally well (Jeremy has the most amazing voice with a crazy/phenomenal top voice), but it was his choices that made the biggest impact. He quickly established that he was in an imaginary world where I was fairly certain that he actually was seeing "hidden planets and tiny worlds" because he was gazing at them with such specificity; it all seemed so real in his imagination. Then he broke that moment and grabbed my heart and brought me into Horton's world where he was "all alone". I felt his loneliness. He smiled through it, though, literally playing the opposite of the text (something more singers need to learn to do). Where most of the auditioners broke the 4th wall at "okay, call me a lunatic", Jeremy made another quirky choice and sang the line back at himself, giving himself permission to accept his otherness. And then he let go, vocally and physically, throwing out his arms at "I have wings, yes I can fly" and just went there totally. I started to cry; couldn't help it. I wanted to be his one true friend who believed in him.

He made me cry by exerting an influence into the theatre that was so powerful, I couldn't help but be moved. He did this with basically the same habits I'd seen on display during his first year at school -- odd acting choices, manipulative vocal dynamics, playing the opposite of the text, looking up into the air with his head cocked to one side and his eyes reaching towards the other direction, and uniquely large physical gestures that really extended. 

He didn't get the part. (I'll say no more.) 

It was still a great show, and it was conducted by my extraordinarily talented conducting student Brian Herz (who went on to a brilliant career of his own), but it was a seminal moment in my life where I saw clearly that I needed to leave. I had never been comfortable collaborating in casting, it is a very big weakness of mine. I like to cast quickly as the choices seem so apparent to me, like answers to simple math puzzles. Nothing against any of my colleagues - former or present - I freely admit this is one thing that I just don't do well with others (the exception being my colleague at Opera McGill, Stephen Hargreaves.) So if I had to point at one thing that made me start to think about leaving IC, it was that Jeremy had made me cry as Horton and he got cast as the General instead. Yes, he was also unbelievably hysterical as the General (my boys only remember his role in the show to this day), but my want to hear him sing Horton with an orchestra never materialized.

So there I sat watching Jeremy act his way through Supergirl on Netflix. Making the same choices, if I might be so bold, as I saw him make over a dozen years ago as a student. He likes to walk backwards/sideways as he's pointing at the person he's talking to. He still likes to cock his head one direction and throw his eyes the other way. He makes odd, funny gestures and fidgets on camera. He shows us he's thinking and feeling at all times, even when the writing is clearly a bit below par. On close ups you can see the tightening of the jaw that releases up into his oh-so-charming eye-smile. All these things were in evidence when he was an underclassmen working on his craft. Luckily, these things were not "unlearned".

And then just last month, the new Lincoln Center production of Floyd Collins released a video of Jeremy singing my all-time favourite song "How Glory Goes". Yes. All-time favourite song.

Not just song. All-time of all repertoire. The only song that touches something so deep in me that I think perhaps I may not truly be an atheist. It's a song about dying and what's it like on the other side of death. It asks the eternal questions of what will happen to us after we die. Questions I've asked myself my entire life:

Do we live? Is it like a little town? Do we get to look back down at who we love?
Are we above? Are we everywhere? Are we anywhere at all? Do we hear a trumpet call us and we're by your side? Will I want, will I wish for all the things I should've done? Longing to finish what I'd only just begun? 

Written by Adam Guettel (The Light in the Piazza), the score is folk-opera. Jeremy is the lead. 

The video is perfection. Vocal perfection. Like Freni's "Deh vieni non tardar" recorded decades ago. Like Buckley's "Memory" belt at the climax of the song. Like Jennifer Holiday's "And I Am Telling You". Like Corelli's "Non piangero Liu". Very few recorded moments are perfect. This is. 

It's been about 20 some years since Jeremy first made me cry. Now again. How does he do it?

And why do other IC students stick in my brain as being examples of people with "bad" habits but who went onwards to some big successes (or in Tveit's case gone viral into millions of views)? It's mainly because I had to explain their talent to a few too many colleagues who just didn't get them. Some wanted them to be out of the program. Some never wanted to cast them ever. Some dismissed them as "just pretty chorus boys". Some were, honestly, perplexed by their talent and annoyed at their bad habits on display in scenes work or in their singing. 

Aaron sounded too much like a musical theatre singer to get into the classical voice program but sounded too much like a "singer" to be taken seriously as an actor in the BFA music theatre program. I won that debate thank you very much. Zach was a bass - a rarity in musical theatre people. He was also nine feet tall and had a huge stage presence. I know - in my bones - his talent was simply way too big for college. Matt was definitely a stud (google the old Urban Cowboy billboard on Times Square and you'll see the abs on display. He had a real baritenor voice - great in the bottom range, exciting top notes - with exceptional musicianship. But, again, many thought he was just limited somehow. Then Joe came along - literally gorgeous head to toe - who was such a smooth mover onstage it was like he was actually floating in a separate kind of gravity. And we all know how dance is often dismissed as the least important of the triple threats (until one is actually in an actual show and then it is as integral as anything else.)

I could go on and on. My operatic students, the really big famous ones, just didn't impress everyone in the same way I was clearly impressed. Putting Phil into major operatic roles in his sophomore year, having Rihab perform in multiple operas in just one semester, dropping Simone and JP into a Bluebeard's Castle while in their master's degree seemed insane. Yet these, and so many others, were so clearly - CLEARLY - major talents to my ears and brain. Easy peasy to see. Simple to put them onto the stage. Were they 100% ready? Of course not, they were students. 

Here's a blog about that on my new site: Coach Craft: Are You Ready?

We teachers have a bad habit of educating people. Find me on any given day and I'll be lecturing whether I know it or not. We like to hear ourselves talk. We like to help others by pointing out their bad habits and teaching them new ones. 

But this is where it gets tricky, if not down-right dangerous. It's akin to a writer in need of an editor, and if they turn to the wrong editor, the soul of their book might get deleted. If you are with the wrong mentor or coach or teacher, you might edit out the good stuff that makes you you. The successful people we aspire to all have habitual characteristics that set them apart. Think Hvorostovsky, Horne, Horowitz, Hanks, Hudson, and Hepburn(s).

These habitual characteristics are clearly evident in their singing, playing and acting. They've been highly criticized by people-who-know-things about these tendencies. Yet still they continued to reach the heights of success in their fields. What would have happened if someone would have tried to unteach Vladimir to be more accurate in his playing, make him aware he was missing handfuls of notes? What about Marilyn's odd way of singing fioratura passages with a bit too much of what I'd describe as a vocal gobble? She partnered with the greatest coloratura who ever lived, that didn't stop her. And then there's Kate who spoke the majority of her millions of words on film through a clenched jaw. Imagine her studying acting now and working semesters on releasing that tension, in order to fix her acting. Thank god no one fixed Jennifer Holliday's singing or told her belting might hurt her.

Learning to tell the difference between the habitual that can't change and those tendencies that should change is something that can easily derail the most talented student. They have to simultaneously learn to trust their instincts while listening to other people's instructions (based on their own set of unique instincts) - oftentimes saying the exact opposite of what the student holds to be true about their talent or craft or technique.

So let's embrace our bad habits every now and then! Really explore them. Go towards them! See if they are actually bad, or merely fabulous habits that aren't quite formed yet. Embrace yourself, the good and the bad. You can't just hit a delete button on yourself, it's not something that ultimately helps. You are who you are, and as Polonius said, "to thine ownself be true".

And while you're at it, stop looking for teachers who can "fix" you, or "fix" something in your technique. Stop thinking you're a donut with a big whole in the middle of yourself that needs to be covered up with icing. You are enough. You are you. Look for what makes you unique. Look at your strengths and strengthen those areas even more. Don't just focus on what's wrong, because you might also need to nurture and grow what is right and special about you!

When I think back over the 1000 or so students I've taught over the past 30 some years, it's never been clear why some "made it" (whatever that means) and some did not. One of the things that the big success stories have in common is that I heard severe criticisms of their talents from someone who was a teacher. The big talents scare people and you have to take them on and be as big yourself in how you teach, what you say, and how you strive to nurture those big talents. That's the mark of an excellent teacher, at least in my book. Same for directors, coaches, conductors, producers - they need to get out of the way for real talent. (That's a talent in and of itself!)

Just for fun, here are my top Jeremy Jordan Youtube selections:
Let It Go (yep, that song)
It's all coming back to me Tribute to Celine with over 2 million views (wait for the key change)
Santa Fe from Newsies 
And, gosh, here's a few more (Youtube is a rabbit hole...):
Tveit's I'm Alive
Tveit's viral Roxanne (1.9 million views)
Dreamgirls in London (Joe's the one you can't miss centerstage)
West Side Story at the Tony's (Matt sings at the end with that girl Maria)
Zach's monologue at the Met (Akhnaten - just a stunning performance)
And just for giggles, a bootleg video of the IC "La Resistance" medley with yours truly appearing: SouthParkMedley