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.
There are secrets on a leaf, in the water, in the air
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?
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:
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.
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:
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)
It's all coming back to me Tribute to Celine with over 2 million views (wait for the key change)
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)
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
And just for giggles, a bootleg video of the IC "La Resistance" medley with yours truly appearing: SouthParkMedley
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