Whenever I'm using my sick time I always feel like it should be a special gift, some paid time to just do my thing. Too bad needing time off from work generally means, well...I'm not well enough to work.
As it turns out, recovering from surgery takes a lot out of you. Noted. But I've had this entry brewing in Evernote for a week now and I feel like it's time to get back into the swing of things just a little.
While vacationing in Disney World with friends and husband, I decided to audition for the American Idol Experience attraction. This was one of those spur of the moment decisions that left me too little time for adequate preparation, but I knew deep down I'd be disappointed if I didn't go for it.
The rundown: with no prep time I had to make a safe choice, so the song didn't show off much besides my ability to pick a song I could sing. Oh well. More importantly, it was the first legitimate audition room I'd set foot in in at least seven or eight years. Secretly, I don't think I audition well. I do well at acting nonchalant all the way until the first note. Then I have trouble seeing it as just another performance and get a little (or a lot) nervous.
Anyhow, that 30 second spot in front of the casting agent was way important for me. Sure, she gave me good feedback after -- that my instrumental music background gives me great breath control and a decent ear, but I don't have quite the depth and breadth of vocal experience they're looking for -- but I'd already proven all I needed to. In that moment, I made myself believe. I proved I could do it.
Since then I've felt different, better, more inspired to keep at it. More comfortable with the idea of singing with my friends, making mistakes, starting one of those ridiculous YouTube-based bands that seem to be all the rage.
This is something I've been watching very closely on the real American Idol, too. I think it could decide who wins the competition. Conviction and a genuine belief in oneself is perhaps the most important ingredient when you're talking about being an artist -- and probably a successful person, too. Once you know, accept, and like who you are, once you feel good about putting that out there and being bold, others can't help but believe right along with you.
Showing posts with label American Idol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Idol. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Singing With Your Headphones On
Despite having heard some advice to the contrary, I enjoy singing with headphones on. More accurately, I tend to sing with one earbud in, one earbud out. I think it's pretty effective as an accompaniment, especially for songs I have no hope of ever being able to play on the piano.
During Hollywood Week on this season of American Idol I caught a glimpse of Mary Powers doing the same thing in rehearsal -- complete with holding the iPod like a microphone -- and I thought, hey, it's catching on! So naturally I was pretty impressed when I watched a video about the audition process for Disney's American Idol Experience (I'll be in Disney World next week and have half a mind to check it out) and saw they'd done us one better. They rigged iPods to display the lyrics while the song is playing, kind of like your own personal karaoke. This is what they give you for rehearsal if you make it through to the performance rounds.
Maybe it follows naturally, maybe it doesn't, but my next question was, I wonder what this looks like when I do it? Also knowing recording yourself is an effective practice tool, I whipped out my video camera, pressed the YouTube button, and ran through an entire song.
It was...awful. I watched the entire thing to see if it got better toward the middle (or end), but it just stayed dreadful. I felt like I was watching one of the American Idol auditions where the judges ask, "has anyone actually ever heard you sing before today?"
Ouch. So that left me wondering, is it the headphones thing? I feel like I can hear myself sing. Or is it that at a certain age, you just can't just decide you want to start singing? Well, really? 20 is too old? What if I should have listened to my fellow instrumental musicians when they said "there's a reason we play instruments and don't sing?" What about the people who have complimented me in the past, the juries who have given me passing grades? Does this really need to be an existential crisis, or can I just note the flaws and work them out?
The thing is, this is something find really, really fun. So fun that if I had my druthers I'd put on my carefree and fun-loving face and audition for the Idol Experience while we're in Disney. And who knows, that might end up being the moral of the story: just because you have a discouraging experience doesn't mean you need to give up entirely. And I probably will keep on going like I've been forever, though not without a lot of harumphing along the way. After all, I eventually got over what was arguably my most frustrating performance moment ever: blowing an audition by messing up a scale. I missed the cut by one slot, but still scored at the top of every other category (sightreading and a prepared piece, as I remember). Ugh.
The thing is, no matter what the circumstances I expect all this to come naturally. If it doesn't, I'm just "bad at it." But of course, I'm sure my manuscript has shaky passages I'll need to rework. I play bad notes on the piano all the time. I sat through some brutal critiques on the path to my BFA in Studio Art. It all requires work, even when that work involves watching a torturous video that's nothing like what I saw from my own point of view.
Maybe I just need to spend more time walking around the house with one earbud in my ear.
During Hollywood Week on this season of American Idol I caught a glimpse of Mary Powers doing the same thing in rehearsal -- complete with holding the iPod like a microphone -- and I thought, hey, it's catching on! So naturally I was pretty impressed when I watched a video about the audition process for Disney's American Idol Experience (I'll be in Disney World next week and have half a mind to check it out) and saw they'd done us one better. They rigged iPods to display the lyrics while the song is playing, kind of like your own personal karaoke. This is what they give you for rehearsal if you make it through to the performance rounds.
Maybe it follows naturally, maybe it doesn't, but my next question was, I wonder what this looks like when I do it? Also knowing recording yourself is an effective practice tool, I whipped out my video camera, pressed the YouTube button, and ran through an entire song.
It was...awful. I watched the entire thing to see if it got better toward the middle (or end), but it just stayed dreadful. I felt like I was watching one of the American Idol auditions where the judges ask, "has anyone actually ever heard you sing before today?"
Ouch. So that left me wondering, is it the headphones thing? I feel like I can hear myself sing. Or is it that at a certain age, you just can't just decide you want to start singing? Well, really? 20 is too old? What if I should have listened to my fellow instrumental musicians when they said "there's a reason we play instruments and don't sing?" What about the people who have complimented me in the past, the juries who have given me passing grades? Does this really need to be an existential crisis, or can I just note the flaws and work them out?
The thing is, this is something find really, really fun. So fun that if I had my druthers I'd put on my carefree and fun-loving face and audition for the Idol Experience while we're in Disney. And who knows, that might end up being the moral of the story: just because you have a discouraging experience doesn't mean you need to give up entirely. And I probably will keep on going like I've been forever, though not without a lot of harumphing along the way. After all, I eventually got over what was arguably my most frustrating performance moment ever: blowing an audition by messing up a scale. I missed the cut by one slot, but still scored at the top of every other category (sightreading and a prepared piece, as I remember). Ugh.
The thing is, no matter what the circumstances I expect all this to come naturally. If it doesn't, I'm just "bad at it." But of course, I'm sure my manuscript has shaky passages I'll need to rework. I play bad notes on the piano all the time. I sat through some brutal critiques on the path to my BFA in Studio Art. It all requires work, even when that work involves watching a torturous video that's nothing like what I saw from my own point of view.
Maybe I just need to spend more time walking around the house with one earbud in my ear.
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