Never judge a book by its cover

When I was a kid I was convinced that the things on this world are either black or white, good or bad, and nothing in between. I think I might have thought that way, because my parents were raising me and my brother in consequent way, and I am really grateful to them for doing so. They drew a very clear and firm line between what I am allowed to do and what not, and if I asked them why I am not allowed to do a particular thing, they cared to explain me in a sober way.

Time passed and finally I had to leave home to bend into the society which said to be important, but I've enjoyed being alone more and more as I got to know this society. Nope, I'm not anti-social, I just cannot stand stupidity and pointless insults - that's all... That's why I may seem to isolate myself sometimes from people, but to tell the truth I enjoy to be in the company of people, but I prefer to listen to them and observe them. It is almost like reading a book, so that's how I learned that if you would like to get to know someone really good, you shouldn't just listen to them, but also observe them, and even if you listen to them do it in such way that you don't get lost in their words, but you try to understand their motivation. You would be suprised what simple things can serve as a motivation behind our deeds and how our bodylanguage can tell more about ourselves than the words that are leaving our lips.

For me getting to know people is really like reading a book, and I learned quite early not to judge any book by its cover. And as a matter of fact, when you give a singing lesson, you do the same thing: you are reading your pupil(s) body language, movements, breathing, etc. The more you read them and the more you know about them, the more you can help them solve their vocal problems - and the more they can help you solve your own vocal problems and help you deepen your knowledge and understanding about how your instrument works. They are singing books; some of them loud and proud, some of them shy and timid, but they all have one thing in common: all of them are valuable, precious and vulnerable work, something to appreciate and to take a good care of.

Everything is possible (part 1)

It really wouldn't be me, if a sentence as the title says "Everything is possible" wouldn't serve as a motto of my life as a professional musician. As much as a paradox it is, as much as it inspired me in past few years.

Back then when I began my studies at the conservatory I had pretty primitive ideas about singing and music in general. Based on the repertory building beforehand I was convinced, just like everyone else nowadays that there's no free passing between voice types, in other words your preferred register defines the repertory you are able to sing. But the years I spent as an early vocal ensemble music student and also Ildikó Hajnal, my singing teacher's methods and approach pushed me towards new boundaries, and that reminded me to the very essential idea why I've actually decided to be a singer. And that idea was actually that I wanted to see how far I could get with it, to figure out where my limits are as a musician and as a singer.

To be honest, and without being all the way stuck up, I am a multitalented, intelligent and smart woman (which is quite something if you take a look at my beuatiful blond hair...), and as being one I could be anything I wanted to be. I figured this out at some quite early age, so thanks to that I always knew what I wanted to be and that was always something else: architect, lawyer, captain of a ship (sometimes even a space ship), astronaut, teacher, pirate, physician, journalist, writer, historian, restaurator, painter, mob boss, detective, pathologist, secret agent or mad scientist - but hell, never a musician! In grammar school, I was such a bookworm that while my classmates were living their normal puberty lives, I spent my long afternoons and evenings in libraries (no misunderstanding: there was one at school, another one at the dormitory where I was living in those times and the of the central library of the region - this one was actually behind my school). In the year of graduation I had enough, and I was aso allowed to get some extra time for my singing lessons at the music school. This meant a 90 minutes long singing lesson every week, from which 60 minutes was the actual lesson and the remaining 30 minutes rehearsing with a pianist under the supervision of my singing teacher at that time, Erzsébet Feichter). I had to play the piano and though I should have attended music theory lessons, I chose to sing in the choir of the music school instead.
Before I realized I've got more involved in music and with singing than I made up my mind to become a singer. When I told the people around me (my family, my classmates, my friends and my teachers) that I am planning to give the auditions of the conservatory in Miskolc a go, many of them laughed at me or just looked at me as if I were out of my mind. My chosen faculties in grammar school were history, and Hungarian literature and grammar; in the end it turned out I haven't dawdled away my time with those countless hours spent with my faculty subjects, because if you are getting involved with early music, some extra knowledge in history, literature and grammar pays off pretty well.

Well, as you can see I did not become a lawyer, neither a pirate, but I've become a singer which is a way better than all the other professions I've ever imagined to myself. Why? Because music and singing requires a fresh and fit mind all the time, pushing you to learn something new everyday, and also pushing you to extend or even exceed your limits.

Everything is possible... Yes, believe it or not, everything is possible, even for a bookworm to become a singer. For many years I've listened to the discrimination of my kind ("my kind" here stands for people with intelligence, high intellect and strong thirst for knowledge) considering them as people who have barely the ability or they are just simply unable to sense the little nuances of their body, and that thinking and their intelligence is actually in the way of artistic expression. But you know what? That's not true. It is true, that if you keep telling someone, who's happen to be smarter and has a bigger theoretical knowledge than you, that these merits are bad and they are preventing him/her from musical development, he/she will believe you after a while and will curse himself/herself for the gift he/she was given. I wouldn't classify people like thinkers and emotionals. I believe that each of us has the equal ability to feel, sense and understand the world that surrounds us, it is just the matter of personal choice which approach we would like to choose and where do our priorities lie.

After I figured that my intelligence and intellect used in an effective and proper way will help me to develop as a singer and as a muscian, a whole new world opened up for me, and slowly the thought of "everything is possible" took over my mind and I've begun to experiment more and more...

Letting go

Maybe it's the rain we've been having recently
Something about the rain keeps reminding me
But these days I'm sure you would be surprised
I'm a different person you'd hardly recognise
And there's the reasons why I know
But nobody tells you but the letting go.

(Joe Cocker: The letting go)

It is raining now for a while here in the Netherlands. Well, if you live here, sometimes you have the very feeling it is raining all the time, but I'm not complaining, the weather was quite nice in the past year, it was warm spiced up with a lot of sunshine. But to tell the truth, I actually like rain very much. Not the part where I am getting all the way wet to my bones while riding my bike in the rain to the restaurant where I work, or on the way back, but the rain itself. I like to take an umbrella and some waterproof footware and just walk in the rain and enjoy the scent of it. I like the way how it washes away everything and when it stops raining, and the sky clears up you value the sunshine even more. 

No, there's no misunderstanding, I am writing about letting go. There are many things I would like to let go recently: old habits, fears, doubts, painful memories (because during the great and fun time I had in the past years, I had collected some painful ones as well), etc. In a way, I agree with Carrie Fisher saying in the beginning of her HBO stage show Wishful drinking (which I recommend everyone to watch, because it's hilarious): "I have to start by telling you that my entire lifecould be summed up in one phrase, and that is: if my life wasn't funny, it would just be true, and that is completely unacceptable. Now... what that means is (other than what it sounds like): let's say something happens and from a certain slant, maybe it's tragic and even a little bit shocking. And then time passes and you go to the funny slant and now that very same thing can no longer do you any harm. So, what we're really talking about then is location, location, location"

True. Sometimes I am indulging myself in the past, though I know very well that the past is a nice place to visit but never a pleasant place to stay. Recently I am finding myself wondering about things I could have done better in the past and what I could do in the future in a different way, but the only conclusion I get to is that I need change and I need to let go everything: the past, the fears, the doubts, the pain, and everything else that holds me back.

I remember the last time I had enough of being inable to move anywhere. I felt I was stuck and I had the feeling I cannot breath anymore, and these feelings were painfully familiar. At that time I had no idea how to move out from that hesitating state, being afraid of anything that came into my way. That was the time when I had my ever first portfolio shoot and there I could let go (well, I was half naked), and I could do it for three reasons:

1. I wanted to show my instrument in a way that nobody would expect me to do so. After all, you don't put clothes on a piano, or on a violin or on a cello - that would look sooo silly...
2. By the end of the training I've got during the 6 years of Conservatory I felt myself denuded from many of my old habits.
3. I had soooo much fun :)))

 I will never forget when I let go my yearning for freedom, because the moment I surrendered and made friends with the idea of captivity, freedom fell onto my lap and things suddenly began to move, and I didn't care anymore just went with the flow of events. I didn't even have time to realize what I was doing I was just doing it, because that was the easiest thing to do. As a matter of fact I don't like to think too much forward (though I have many longterm plans), I rather prefer to just do my thing. The less you think, the happier you are afterwards.

Letting go is the hardest thing I've ever encountered, because it holds the possibility of radical change and loosing something that we think it is useful for us. Letting go chases us out into the wilderness of the soul where God knows what awaits for us (for some reason the first that would pop one's mind is something dangerous, or even lethal - isn't it interesting?). I am still learning the art of letting go. So far the most succesfull "letting go"-events were when I could forget about the possible consequences in a way that not even the term would have popped up in my mind. Of course there were a whole series of events that put me into that state of mind.

I am looking for that state of mind now: in the rain, hoping it would wash away everything while waiting for the vital ray of sunshine on my skin and on the path I am following. So I let it rain, I let it go...

Catering industry vs. Classical musicians

OK, not Classical Musicians... Classical Musicians and Early Musicians alike... 

I have a part-time job at a restaurant in the outskirts of Tilburg. No, I am not a perky waitress, neither helping out in the kitchen. I am on the bottom of the hierarchy: I am one of the dishwashers. Heavy physical work, but if you do it right it can bring your body some benefit (it is like a complete work out). I work here since Easter last year, and though doing the dishes doesn't match with my profession, it is good to  keep my financial basis firm and on the other hand the schedule is flexible. There's not such a high salary that would pay enough to give up such flexibility. As a musician you need this flexibility, because the amount of commissions and concerts are not frequent enough to provide you enough money to make a living. 

I am sure many of you have done this kind of job before, but comparing to other restaurants, this one is different in many ways. First of all you cannot order a meal a la carte, because they don't have a menu card. They are specialized on parties, events, catering, feasts, birthdays, weddings, receptions, etc. Three halls, a bar, and two smaller independent buildings give place to these events, and there are days when all of these are full of people and they even have more than one team going on providing catering service somewhere else. Yes, it is extreme, but I love it. It tears my body apart, because my task is not only doing the dishes, but also cleaning everything up, and put the clean stuff where they belong to (in the kitchen, or on the backroom, or wherever they have to be put). So it is not only physical job, but also requires some smart planning of logistics, fitnesse and effective quickness.

I have spent several months there until now, and I have to say that we, musicians (especially classical and early musicians) have what to learn from these people. Here's a list with some explanation to each point:

1. The customer's No.1 priority

It doesn't matter how much time and energy the chef invested in that particular dish, if it tastes awful, the customer won't pay for it. It is interesting how our audience works, and in many sense we, musicians, can be really grateful for their patience. I mean, nobody would ever let anyone to push some awful tasting food down his/her throat at a restaurant, but our public will clap no matter what we do. But no matter how much time the chef spent with that disgusting stuff, you won't eat it. Isn't this a little upside down? There's one thing in common though with restaurants with horrible food and musicians giving terrible concerts: after a short time they will loose their customers (and not only because nothing lasts forever).

2. Effective teamwork is more important than anything

During parties, dinner events and many more, waiters, waitresses, chefs and everyone in this restaurant are working in such an effective and cooperative way that the result works as a well-oiled machine and all the guests have a great time there. But when the guests are going home, this team continue to work on preparing the other day’s event, and they are helping eachother in order to finish as soon as possible. This is definitly something I am always amazed about, whenever I see it. They either learned or they behave by nature in this certain way, because they know that being an obstacle cause them nothing but trouble and misfortune (not immediate, but long-term trouble and misfortune). There is this joke about the waitress and her friend are having a conversation about a night out in town:

- Sooo... Can you make it tonight to go out in town?

- I don’t know, I have to work from 16:00 o’clock.

- And when will your shift finish?

- Finish? My shift doesn’t have an end-time...

There is no definite end-time of the shift: it finishes when the job is done.

On the level of musicians teamwork (in best cases) works until the final cadence of the concert, and then they are just looking for their own benefit. I may be wrong (I've already said that I'm not right, neither I possess the truth – nobody does actually) but musicians can be really an obstacle in eachothers development and success (more often on purpose than unintended, unfortunately). They call it competition, which is OK, if two ensembles are competing with eachother on the market, but this occurs too often among the members of an ensemble and in my point of view, that's just simply pointless and stupid. Being an obstacle in your fellow musician’s way is the same thing when a waitress’ priority is not being part of the team, but seeking her own good. Musicians and singers don’t do this because they are bad or evil people, they are doing so, because they are so busy with being an artist and with the music they are performing (especially with the interpretation they imagined behind the notes) that they are just completely clueless when it comes to behave like a human being. People (and this applies on everyone in general, this is just human nature) don’t think about long-term solutions. For some reason they are also happy with temporarly pleasures and their selfishness only brings them misery, bitterness and loneliness. They are choosing for the short-term pleasures, because long-term solutions require sacrifices, and because these sacrifices don’t pay-off immediately, and because people are impatient in general, they won’t take the risk of giving away something small for something bigger (which pays off at an unexpected and unpredictable time).
NB: Dear Singers, I have really bad news for ya... Being a singer means to take these risks and make these lesser (sometimes even seemingly bigger) sacrifices if you would like to do your thing right. Good news: it always pays off quite nicely and your reward will also stay for a life-time (if you are smart enough).

3. If the customer is happy, we are happy

This seems to be the same thing as the first one, but this actually rather points out that if you make your customer happy, it will make you (as the provider of this happines) also feel good about it. Positive feedback and positive emotions are just as important for someone who works in the catering industry as it is for you, dear performing musicians. I hear many people complaining about how they cannot make a living as a musician or as a singer (nevertheless, comparing to the Middle Ages, when musicians were the outcast of society, you can be happy about being considered as an equal human being, protected by the law as anyone else). Well, it is because you know what would make your audience happy, but you are just refusing to satisfy their needs. Of course they won’t want to listen to your mindf*cked ideas, if you don’t serve it in such way that it would get them in the mood of eating it. It’s like having sex with someone without any foreplay: a quickie can be exciting and pleasuresome from time to time, but invade your partner with only quickies and having only one-night-stands will only fuck-up your emotional life. The opposite also applies: if you serve your a little-bit of perverted ideas in an „edable”-way, even a mindf*ck will spice up your relationship with your audience. You just need to put these ideas in context and be really clear about communicating them.

 

Among this list, and to refer to someone else’s words proving we need to change our mindset about concert and/or music concepts, there you go: a really interesting, recently published article. Those, who follow my posts on Facebook, might have already seen me sharing this article, saying: I firmly believe that if one begins to think differently and voices his/her opinion, things may change things for good. (Partly that’s the reason why I am writing this blog, and also because I’m a hopeless exhibitionist craving for your attention – like every performing artist is). I had the luck to meet Brendan Walsh (the author of this article), and I was also attending his lectures Cultural entrepreneurship at the Fontys Conservatory in Tilburg. To be honest I didn’t want to go to his lectures, and I had one simple reason: in my experience, though Fontys Conservatory is an innovative institution willing to improve education with great lecture ideas, their business-related lessons during my Bachelor years were simply a disaster (guest speakers without any clue about music industry or the manners of the classical musician world). So I thought he will be just the same as his predecessors, but I was wrong. Maybe the most remarkable memory from his lectures regarding the subject of this entry when he stated something I had never imagined a performing musician would ever admit: the new generation of musicians is a threat for the generation before them. When I’ve heard him saying that I was silently applausing and rejoicing in myself, and with this statement he became (in my eyes, at least) from an entertaining teacher and presenter to someone worths pay attention to. So there it goes, a shout-out for his article: Classical Music is dead... Long live Classical Music!
NB: He mentiones a few recent attempts to make classical music a product which sells better, by putting classical music performances in new context (regarding location, dancing to classical music and such), which is (in my opinion, again) a good way to point out we need change, but until our attitude won't change, none of the results (good or bad) will hold - nevertheless, we need these pointing fingers.