Bureaucracy and the Art of Screaming Beautifully; What they Don't Teach you in Music School...
Bureaucracy and the Art of Screaming Beautifully Part 1.
On what they don’t teach you in music school, and why they probably should.
Convocation 2014 Myself with Nicole Malcom.
They should really be teaching this in music school.
I will never forget the first time I heard the phrase, “They should really be teaching this in music school.”
It was spoken by my high school choir teacher, Maria Riedstra, during one of our independent study performance classes. She had hired a pianist to accompany us and was explaining how to properly bill the school board for their services—via invoice.
Looking back, we were incredibly lucky. Preparing a song with a live pianist in high school was a rare gift, especially in a Toronto public school. Most singing students only get that chance at a biannual recital through a private studio—if at all—before university. And since most teachers who prep students for post-secondary voice programs don’t start until around sixteen, the opportunity that Mrs. Riedstra provided was truly special.
But learning to write an invoice is just one of many things they don’t teach you.
People often shrug and say, “Well, they should be able to figure it out,” but no one ever asks why students should have to—especially after four to six years of expensive post-secondary education. Sure, voice lessons, diction, stagecraft, and repertoire are important. But what about networking? Building a website? Managing your social media presence? Learning roles quickly when opportunity strikes? Negotiating contracts or fees? Forget about writing an invoice—what about doing taxes?
The reality of theatre—and, honestly, most professions over the past twenty years—is that budgets are shrinking, and you’ll end up doing more work to make up for it. It’s not crazy. It’s just the way it is. The arts often reflect economic trends before they’re visible anywhere else.
Take makeup, for example.
I’ve only ever been in one show that provided it. Every other time, I’ve had to do my own. A course combining stagecraft and stage makeup would be an incredibly useful (and realistic) addition to any program. Until that happens, the School of YouTube is the next best thing. Sure, YouTube operates like an energy vampire through endless ad torture, but a minute of ads is still far more cost-effective than a university course. Makes you wonder.
It was spoken by my high school choir teacher, Maria Riedstra, during one of our independent study performance classes. She had hired a pianist to accompany us and was explaining how to properly bill the school board for their services—via invoice.
Looking back, we were incredibly lucky. Preparing a song with a live pianist in high school was a rare gift, especially in a Toronto public school. Most singing students only get that chance at a biannual recital through a private studio—if at all—before university. And since most teachers who prep students for post-secondary voice programs don’t start until around sixteen, the opportunity that Mrs. Riedstra provided was truly special.
But learning to write an invoice is just one of many things they don’t teach you.
People often shrug and say, “Well, they should be able to figure it out,” but no one ever asks why students should have to—especially after four to six years of expensive post-secondary education. Sure, voice lessons, diction, stagecraft, and repertoire are important. But what about networking? Building a website? Managing your social media presence? Learning roles quickly when opportunity strikes? Negotiating contracts or fees? Forget about writing an invoice—what about doing taxes?
Wearing Many Hats
What they should teach you is that being a musician means wearing many hats.The reality of theatre—and, honestly, most professions over the past twenty years—is that budgets are shrinking, and you’ll end up doing more work to make up for it. It’s not crazy. It’s just the way it is. The arts often reflect economic trends before they’re visible anywhere else.
Take makeup, for example.
I’ve only ever been in one show that provided it. Every other time, I’ve had to do my own. A course combining stagecraft and stage makeup would be an incredibly useful (and realistic) addition to any program. Until that happens, the School of YouTube is the next best thing. Sure, YouTube operates like an energy vampire through endless ad torture, but a minute of ads is still far more cost-effective than a university course. Makes you wonder.
Olivia Morton, Myself and Veronika Muggeridge in Opera York's Magic Flute 2023.
Networking, Websites, and Social Media
All three are essential in today’s world.Networking should be a taught skill—something universities prepare you for—but it rarely is. I’ve met highly skilled musicians who are downright terrible at networking. I’ve seen unprofessional, untimely emails; cringey rehearsal room behavior; and a general lack of self-awareness—like constant follow-ups or pushy persistence.
Sure, networking is about making connections. But people forget how far those connections travel. You might have nailed your audition, but if the person who greeted you at the door saw you be rude to someone else, they’ll remember—and probably mention it. Once you enter a professional space, you’re being observed, just like you are onstage.
Websites are basically the new business card.
Everything these days is tied to the smartphone. With mobile wallets eliminating the need for actual wallets, even business cards are becoming obsolete. A website gives potential clients one easy place to find your schedule, recordings, and reviews—and it’s tax-deductible! I still carry cards, but I rarely hand them out—usually only for teaching inquiries or to the rare few who still carry a wallet.
Social Media; Or as I like to call it—anti-social media.
Yes, I’m an old soul, but this is one area where a university course could actually be worth the tuition. Imagine a class that teaches students to create content, use cameras, record audio, and edit video. These are essential skills now. Sure, you can outsource that work—but doing it yourself saves a lot of money.
It doesn’t take long to see why the phrase “starving artist” has survived for centuries. When you’re paying others for every piece of promotional content, the math adds up fast.
It doesn’t take long to see why the phrase “starving artist” has survived for centuries. When you’re paying others for every piece of promotional content, the math adds up fast.
My 2025/2026 season announcement I created on Canva.
Rethinking Higher Education?
On top of all this, media literacy is essential. In an age of AI and deepfakes, we have to be careful about what we create, share, and consume. The internet is an incredible tool—you can learn almost anything for free.So it raises an uncomfortable question:
If we have to learn so much outside of formal education to have a viable career, does higher education in the arts still make sense?
You don’t need a university to take private lessons. In a city like Toronto, there are countless ensembles to join—or even create—at a fraction of the cost of tuition.
If higher education wants to remain relevant to the artist’s path, it has to adapt. It has to offer courses that are actually useful in the real world.
Because yes—it’s important to discuss and critique art.
But what good is that if no one’s out there making it?
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