By Evelyn Simanowski
What is a Vocal Performance major’s art? Short answer: I spend a lot of time singing songs I think are pretty. That probably seems like a rhetorical question and an even more obvious answer, though it’s not an answer I’m adverse to giving. I could say “I spend hours in a tiny practice room every day,” or “I’m taking 19 credits before ensembles,” or best yet, “I’ve shaped my entire lifestyle to meet the physical demands of being a vocalist.” Are these answers dramatic? Absolutely; but they hold just as much truth within them as they hold drama. I wouldn’t be in this major if these truths weren’t worth it.
I consider the art of singing to be one of complete connectivity and a far more dynamic art form than it appears at surface level. My career as a vocalist relies almost entirely on my ability to interpret and bring life to song, requiring me to view the piece through its historical, cultural, and artistic contexts. This idea of connection begins when I start studying a new piece of music. I’m first connecting with the notes and rhythms on the page, that’s a given, but during that time I also consider myself to be connecting with the composer and their intent. Despite having never met any of these composers, there’s a real closeness I feel with them when I consider what inspired them to write this music and exactly what they were trying to share with their audiences. There’s no guarantee that the circumstances and narrative they were writing in will fit my own; they hardly ever do. There is, however, a guarantee that each of these composers I’m honoring is an image bearer that shared in the human experience and used their God-given talents to express such experiences.
My connection with the piece only grows as I spend more time with it and begin pouring my own personal experiences into the piece. The art of song, like any art form, requires interpretation. In this case, I the performer can interpret the piece in a way that is personally meaningful to my story and maintains the integrity given to it by the composer. Most of the music I choose to sing is by composers from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. While they’re not working with me in person, the intentional time and consideration I spend interpreting their work makes it feel as though there’s active collaboration going on between the two of us. They spent hours writing these pieces and now I have the privilege of spending hours working them in the practice room to bring them their due respect.
Any time I perform a piece of music, I believe that life is truly breathed into it when it’s shared with others and given what my voice professor and I call “people energy.” The exchange of energy that happens at this point in the process is electrifying and quite frankly what keeps me coming back for more. Within a single song, I’m exerting pure energy in my performance, exchanging energy with my collaborator(s), and feeling reciprocated energy from the audience. This dynamic energy exchange grants me the opportunity to share the meaning I’ve found in the composer’s piece with a group of individuals that can receive the meaning and interpret it through their own personal experiences and convictions. Standing on the stage and baring a little bit of my soul to an audience is, of course, a vulnerable experience. But in that vulnerability, there’s an even greater opportunity to share the joy and meaning I’ve found in the music.
My job doesn’t end when I step off the stage, nor is there any discernible goal or finish line I’m trying to reach. There are goals I have along the way, each of them indicative of a certain accomplishment or level of progress, but none of them representing perfection. It’s a grim thought, honestly, that no matter how hard I work or how talented I am, I will never achieve perfection in my performance, just as I will never be a perfect Christian. Still, I strive for excellence in all that I do, reminding myself that it’s okay to never achieve perfection. I remain conscious of the fact that I am honing the gifts God has given to me to be used to the best of my ability for His glory. I recognize the gift it is to bring new life to the work of my predecessors and to connect with countless individuals through a language that only He could create. I thank God for the art He has given me and the course He has set before me so that I may be in the constant pursuit of something greater. Soli Deo gloria. ★