All aspiring performers dream of that moment when they will catapult to glory.
Actress Lana Turner was famously "discovered" in a malt shop as an impoverished 16-year-old. At the same age, supermodel Cindy Crawford attracted the attention of her industry when she was photographed while at a summer job detasseling corn. The internet's ability to provide instant widespread exposure transformed Ted Williams from homeless wreck to successful voiceover artist in the blink of an eye.
It's a dream that inspires countless novels, plays and films. In The Muppet Movie, an agent who discovers Kermit the Frog playing his banjo and singing in a Florida swamp sends him on an epic trek to Hollywood, picking up talented companions along the way and eventually landing in the office of producer and studio executive Lew Lord, who proceeds to issue them a Standard Rich and Famous Contract.
Flashdance tells the story of Alex, a Pittsburgh steel worker and exotic dancer who dreams of a career in ballet. She's discovered by the guy who owns the steel mill where she works (when he happens to catch her exotic dance routine of course). The film concludes with what we assume is her successful audition for the local conservatory.
Uh… wait a minute. Most female ballet dancers begin rigorous training at the age of nine, taking one or more classes daily until they're about Alex's age. That's when they're expected to start auditioning for professional companies, not begin conservatory training.
One does not simply get discovered as a ballerina. To become a ballerina, you have to already have devoted your life to the practice from a very early age, and if you're viable for a career you're hopefully already on the radar of some important companies by the time you're in your late teens.
One does not simply get discovered as an opera singer.
This is unfortunately less obvious than it is for ballet dancers. Opera training begins later, is less regimented, and requires a skill set that is more difficult to codify and evaluate.
Among the non-singing public, it's widely perceived that singers either have talent or they don't. People have no idea what goes into our preparation. I recall how perplexed my mother was when I told her about my plans to apply to graduate school, because she thought I was already so wonderful.
Sadly, among the young, ambitious singing community, there is also generally very poor comprehension of what constitutes readiness for a professional career. I often sigh about how small a percentage of singers fresh out of performance degree programs are capable of producing anything resembling a professional quality sound. They also tend to lack any perspective on their professional viability.
Many of them head to New York City, dreaming of imminent discovery.
Without a deep understanding of what is involved, it seems as though this kind of discovery should be possible for opera singers. After all, it remains a viable career path for pop singers. That's the whole premise behind reality shows like American Idol and The Voice. The pop music industry is always on the lookout for unique new personalities to develop into stars. In fact, an outrageous and unique personality may be all that it takes. That's what called Ke$ha to the attention of producer Dr. Luke. Billboard Magazine described how her demo featured…
…a gobsmackingly awful trip-hop track. But at one point toward the end, Ke$ha runs out of lyrics and starts rapping, for a full minute or so: "I'm a white girl/From the 'Ville/Nashville, bitch. Uhh. Uhhhhh." Luke and his producer friends were smitten by this bit of screwball-gangsta improv. His face lights up even now as he remembers. "That's when I was like, OK, I like this girl's personality. When you're listening to 100 CDs, that kind of bravado and chutzpah stand out."
What the pop impresarios are discovering is a unique brand, an artist with something to say who doesn't resemble anything else available on the market. The skill set can be developed later, or not at all (I leave it to you to judge whether or not Ke$ha can actually sing).
This is not the case for opera singers. Without a complete and highly polished skill set that includes not only outstanding vocal technique but acting chops, excellent diction, and musicianship, as well as at least some performance experience, no professional opera company or reputable artist manager will give you serious consideration.
What becomes of these singers with big dreams and inadequate training? Some of them have a rude awakening, figure out what is lacking in their skill set, pull it together, and then embark on careers that evolve gradually rather than catapulting to overnight success. Many more just keep knocking on doors, singing for anyone who will hear them, investing in lessons, coachings and workshops that may not actually get them any closer to the skill set they need, and keep dreaming of that big break that will never come. Eventually, they give up in bewilderment, cursing their luck.
It's a long shot, but someone may discover you as a singer worthy of training and pave the way to a good school or young artist program. But no one gets plucked from complete obscurity and elevated to the professional stages of La Scala or the Met.
Because this business is so competitive, it does often happen that it takes some time for a singer with a very well-developed skill set to land their first significant professional contract. When that happens, sometimes it does seem like they've been plucked from obscurity, and it naturally makes for better reading if the story is presented that way. Soprano Erika Sunnegardh is a fantastic example. When Sunnegardh made her Met debut in 2006 at the age of 40, the New York Times headline ran "Stepping Onstage as a Waitress, She May Exit the Met as a Star."
Her story truly is wonderful, but read the article and you'll grasp the scope of her journey. I remember an interview following her debut where she described it as "the overnight success that took ten years". Read this post on her web site and you'll understand that the boost she got from that debut could not by itself ensure her long-term success. In her own words, "an 'overnight sensation' is as attractive a few years down the line as an open bottle of flat champagne the morning after."
Put in the work, get ready for prime time, and you'll eventually get your chance. If you're especially skilled and exceptionally lucky, it will happen sooner than later. But every big break in our business is a testament to years of sweat and, most often, rejection.
Keep sweating, learn as much as you can from those rejections, and do not sit around waiting to be discovered.
Thanks, Claudia! I needed that. I need to stop cursing my luck and thinking more about how valuable hard work is.
Posted by: Abby Powell | 11/13/2013 at 08:47 PM