Well, whatever your take on
the new Andrew Lloyd-Webber project
of casting by television vote – and of course there is much debate
about it – there are things to learn from it. And having spent many
days in Edinburgh and London as a casting director for the project I
can’t help wondering if I was the one who learned the most! The
terrific team of casting directors included veterans David Grindrod,
Anne Vosser, Stephen Crockett, and Debbie O’Brien. It seemed to me
that with such collected wisdom about casting for musical theatre,
we couldn’t go far wrong…
We spent our days sitting next to our assistant producers in dark
rooms watching an endless stream of candidates and as they sang we
watched both them and the monitors to assess that unpredictable
relationship between the ‘in-person’ look and the look on camera. We
were also judging, from very short, unaccompanied excerpts, whether
to put someone through to the next round or not. And after the third
day or so the tech crews in the various simultaneously running rooms
launched a bet on who would hear “I Could Have Danced All Night” the
most times in a single day – winner to receive a box set of My Fair
Lady.
So (apart from “I Could Have Danced All Night”) what did we see?
In fact it was an extraordinary mix. We saw a very talented woman
about 50 years of age who had no experience or training whatsoever,
but who really had a great ‘open’ quality about her audition and a
rich, haunting vocal sound. We saw an amazingly talented 17 year-old
coloratura who simply didn’t seem to understand what kind of gift
she possessed. We saw young girls who very clearly had no idea what
the role of Maria required and who buckled immediately when asked to
sing the first two lines of The Sound of Music in the original key…
But mostly we saw people who were just okay. And I am reasonably
sure that that is exactly how most auditionees DON’T want to be
described: as ‘just okay’.
So what it is that separates the stand-out audition that gets the
whole panel excited from the one that is ‘just okay’? This intensive
experience emphasised for me the importance of three things:
attitude, vocal impression and performance quality – although in
practice it’s very hard to separate the last two.
Attitude, of course, is something that can be quickly and pretty
easily adjusted (unless you are too difficult to even make this
effort, or else can’t recognise at all what it is in you that others
perceive as difficult – in which case there’s not a lot to help
you). When it comes to attitude, remember that there’s always only
one question a panel asks: would I want to work with this person?
The number of people who evoked an immediate ‘NO’ from everyone was
small, but there were enough to convince me that many people still
don’t see how critical this is in auditioning and still don’t
understand how many people are involved in this judgment.
The fact that you were rude to someone at the door but lovely to
the panel means that you just didn’t realise that the ‘someone at
the door’ was an assistant producer. Any inconsistency in attitude
like this is an immediate killer for panels. They can sometimes be
generous and write off arrogance as nervousness but displaying one
set of behaviour toward the people you perceive as ‘gofers’ and
another toward the panel leaves you looking calculating and
difficult.
Making a lot of excuses, fumbling around and apologizing for
yourself, or making people worry about you is another side of the
same coin – it’s not going to win you any admirers.
But if you’ve got your attitude right, the areas you want to
concentrate on are vocal impression and performance quality.
You’ll notice that I wrote ‘vocal impression’ and not vocal
ability. I choose these words carefully because what you find out
when you’re seeing many, many people in the space of a very short
time is that you don’t tend to analyse the voice in the way you
would if you were teaching or listening to a singer in the fullness
of time. Making an impression in a short period of time is an art!
Go with me for a moment on a metaphorical journey. Let’s compare
singing to sculpting. Imagine that we’re considering Michaelangelo’s
Pieta. The overall impression is almost indescribable.
It isn’t just the beauty of the marble (although he clearly
started with a very fine piece), and it isn’t just the
verisimilitude of the work (although he certainly captures the human
form with truth and beauty). Nor is it just unexpectedly languid
grace of the dead Christ’s body (although its sinuousness and ease
has an uncomfortable – a surprising and unspeakable? – sort of
erotic charge). And it isn’t the just the extraordinary way that the
light and shadow create depth and luminosity.
It’s all of this, and more. It’s an experience which is of course
the sum of its parts and is yet somehow greater. Of course, the
longer you look at the Pieta, the better it gets, but its greatness
means that even its immediate impression can leave you speechless.
If we compare the art of sculpting with the challenges faced by
the vocal artist, it perhaps will make my points about immediate
‘vocal impression’ a little clearer.
In the sculptor’s eyes, the original block of Marble is surely
chosen for a number of qualities. It isn’t just strong – it has to
have complexity, depth of colour and suppleness. Too much strength
would make it hard to work with. Too little colour would flatten out
the overall look of the stone. Too much could compromise simplicity
when needed. For the role of Maria, the singer has to start with
some good quality material: a pleasing tone, a good ear and the
right kind of vocal energy. Of course that ‘pleasing tone’ part can
be a bit subjective but for this role, depth, resonance and a kind
of ‘roundness’ of tone work well. Anything too nasal or too
thin/shrill is not pleasing in this context.
I was surprised, then, at how many singers demonstrated a kind of
‘one-dimensional’ approach with their ‘raw material’. I saw many
singers bent on sounding LOUD throughout, either belting or twanging
for all they were worth. Or going for a kind of one-colour,
one-flavour ‘vanilla’ performance. Or choosing songs that ran
through the gamut of their stylistic and tonal possibilities in a
way that made the whole thing too complex and mannered.
‘Vocal energy’ doesn’t mean LOUD, it means having a dynamic range
of sound appropriate to what you’re trying to express. A ‘pleasing
tone’ is not a static, rigid thing – it comes of ease and
confidence, and more importantly, it comes from knowing what kind of
sound will most effectively communicate what you’re trying to
express.
This of course, means that both vocal impression and performance
quality are always a question of actually knowing WHAT you’re
singing about. Over those days, there were many candidates who
didn’t have a clue about this. The ones who were ‘just okay’ had
spent some time thinking about their songs. They just hadn’t spent
enough. They may have asked questions, but not the right ones. They
had come to some obvious conclusions, expressed in some general
ways. They were speaking not to one specific person, but to whoever
might be there. They knew what the song was about but they didn’t
know why they were singing it.
When you hear so many ‘just okay’ voices one after the other for
days on end, you can’t help wishing for more than a loud/pleasant
voice in tune employed by someone who is expressing some pretty
obvious sentiment.
You can’t help wishing for nuance, for detail; for delicacy and
connected emotional power, for light and shade and sometimes
luminosity; for clarity, complexity and suppleness.
In short, you can’t help wishing that singers could learn to
think more like sculptors.
Dr Donna Soto-Morettini is Head of Musical Theatre at the RSAMD,
and author of Popular Singing (A&C Black £16.99 with CD).