Success

I'm preparing for this vocal thing later this year and I want to do it as best I can.

So, I've planned a few recitals to get the repertoire into my bones, so that its really mine and I won't be distracted by pitches or rhythm or memory.

Thursday was the first of those little recitals, at a retirement facility.

At the rehearsal leading up to this event, the cold, from which I have been recovering, had moved from my sinuses into the back of my throat and my cords were fatigued and covered in mucus.

On my recording I could hear some swelling and a fuzziness in timbre.

Things were a bit better on Thursday, thankfully.

The residents and guests that afternoon were gracious and warm.

In my opinion and by my standards my performance was fine, albeit a work in progress.

And it's hard for me to admit that it wasn't fantastic because I don't want to disrespect the wonderful audience who took time to come listen to me sing.

Lately, I've had a hard time feeling that I've done a good enough job anytime I sing.

When will I feel validated?

When I have [x] number of roles under my belt?

When I win this or that award?

When I sing in front of a certain audience size?

When I get paid a certain amount?

I hesitate to write about these insecurities, lest you think less of me vocally or emotionally. 

However, I don't think I'm alone.

Anyone whose job involves offering something to an audience, becoming transparent and vulnerable and communicating a personal interpretation of a work while striving to deliver a technically masterful performance is bound to feel as if they fall short of the mark once in awhile.

If performing were like a race, it would be easy to know if you had done the job. 

You'd have completed the distance in a certain amount of time, either faster or slower than those who had run the race before you.

But art is not like that.

And as an artist it is that subjectivity that gives my work its allure and at the same times makes it maddening.

So, I've got to develop a new rubric for satisfaction.

Any suggestions?

I think I'll start small.

I'm not exactly sure of the details yet, but I'll be sure to fill you in when I figure it out.