Times of Inequal Temperament; Did Nero Tune to A440 while Rome Burnt?

Photo by Emily Ding

And I am back!

I have been a bit busy the last couple of months, and if you follow my socials, that will be of no surprise. Between performing and getting married, it has been a high unlike anything I have ever experienced.

This wild ride started back in May when I produced a show (Hello/Goodbye, May 17), then had a week between two productions. I jumped in to sing Donna Anna for BOP’s Don Giovanni (May 22), and sang a very satisfying Giulietta in I Capuleti e i Montecchi (May 23) with Opera by Request.

It was a week and a half of eight-hour days of not shutting up...and I loved it. I have never been happier.

From BOP's Don Giovanni. Photo by Noah Waters

After that, I had some miscellaneous gigs until my wedding. Four days after getting married, I left to sing Nedda in I Pagliacci with Nebula Performances. My husband(!) joined me for the last performance, and then we did a mini-moon of Vancouver Island.

It was wonderful!

So what gives?

A lot, actually.

I know everyone is sick of hearing about how the world is on fire, but I think we are reaching a breaking point, especially in the arts. People are having honest and very public conversations about this career, and they are coming from people who my colleagues and I thought were “living the dream.”

Apparently, we are ALL struggling.

Even the people we perceive as successful are wrestling with whether or not to quit this career. I think there is a certain comfort in knowing that there is plenty of “unfairness” to go around.

I won’t name names because this is my personal blog. This is not an academic paper, and frankly, I don’t feel like it.

When I was doing my undergrad, I sang for a conductor of a choir that regularly hired instrumentalists and had a pretty impressive group of singers. I love singing chamber works, but I wanted to be a soloist, and I was communicating that to said conductor.

They said a strange collection of things afterwards.

“You don’t have a soloist personality.”

Whatever that means.

“We typically don’t have the budget to pay the choristers, and a very small budget to pay soloists.”

I figured I was new and didn’t think too long on that at the time.

Then:

“Most soloists I hire have a master’s degree, you know.”

And that’s the one that stuck with me.

Even then, in 2015, I thought that was strange.

You’re telling me that these local gigs are barely paying anything, and they want me to invest another $10,000–$12,000 into more education to do said gig?

Sure, you can be lucky and get some funding for a master’s degree. But what about living expenses? Years of your life?

I wish I had the guts to say something then, but I feared the repercussions.

Now, with professors coming out about how unsustainable their jobs are, and big names talking about an endless loop of losing money on a gig—or breaking even if they’re lucky—I can’t believe conductors, directors, and anyone in a hiring role for these opportunities can utter the suggestion to “invest more into this career.” 

I have been following a lot of the comments on the popular forty-something-year-old baritone who is retiring from his opera career, and that has been nothing short of WILD.

One conductor commented—and keep in mind, I am paraphrasing:

“Companies are only required to pay a fee accommodating the soloist’s living expenses on production—not their families.”

So already, this says a lot about what they feel artists should and shouldn’t be doing with their personal lives.

That you must be comfortable with poverty, or that you are willing to do this because “your passion feeds you.”

If you’re a man with a wife and kids, make sure your wife knows her place in regard to childcare.

If you’re a woman, you should know better than to have children in this career.

I have heard many professionals refer to motherhood in this career as being the equivalent of turning 90 years old.

This is anecdotal.

I was talking to a TA in my undergrad once. Her sister was an amazing opera singer who had a great career in the States and Europe—and then she got pregnant.

My TA told a very unfortunate story about her sister showing up on the first day of rehearsal with her child and mother-in-law, who was helping her with childcare during the production.

The company recast her.

The reason given was that having a child was a liability to the production; that the child would come first and not the production.

I believe she did end up taking legal action, but most people do not have that luxury.

And that is the thing about all of this.

It isn’t just about whether you are talented enough.

It is about whether you can financially survive the career long enough for that talent to matter.

I can’t decide if we’re just being bombarded with boomerisms, or if this truly is a “Let ’em eat cake” moment from the ruling class, but you can’t discuss this career for very long without mentioning the impact money has.

Whether you come from money or not, there is always a possibility that you won’t get what you were promised—or anything at all.

The luxury here is whether you can handle the impact of things going south.

That time I kind of had a viral moment...I said 'kind of'! 

Last week, I publicly criticized a Canadian institution, and the post got a surprising amount of traction. I posted screenshots of a comment exchange I had with some American singers because I was sure my comments were going to be deleted.

Luckily, they weren’t—but the OP did disable comments.

My post of the screenshots started a larger discussion about the financial burden Canadian artists face when obtaining work visas in the United States, and how much easier it is for American artists to work here.

I was proud to partake in a moment of class consciousness with my colleagues.

One thing that really surprised me was the number of direct messages I received applauding me for being “brave” enough to speak up.

Sure, I have held my tongue for most of my career for the sake of potential future engagements.

But my realization now is:

What exactly do I have to lose?

But they do cast Canadians...

To be fair, the institution I have been criticizing has cast more Canadians than ever this year.

That is a fact.

BUT, to me, what is more important is seeing Canadians in LEAD ROLES.

In a full run.

Not just three dates.

Not just “jumping in” because everyone else was busy.

We need to be international...

Many people have commented, “We need to have it be international.”

And to that I ask:

Why?

We have all kinds of Canadians from every corner of the world who pay taxes here—taxes that contribute to what this institution receives from the Canada Council.

In these socio-economic times, having international guest artists seems financially irresponsible to me.

And I am not saying artists shouldn’t ever cross borders.

I am saying that there is a difference between having an international artistic exchange and building an artistic culture in which Canadian artists are perpetually expected to stand in the wings while someone else gets the opportunity.

We don’t have the right person for the part...

Total BS.

We have a lot of capable singers from coast to coast.

Our universities and conservatories have international and internationally acclaimed teaching artists who share their expertise with new Canadian talent.

To me, this is more than enough for “artistic exchange.”

And frankly, if the argument is that we simply don’t have enough qualified Canadian singers, then what exactly are we funding all of these institutions and training programs to do?

Now what do I have to lose?

Not a damn thing.

My condition for continuing in this career is that I get to sing lead roles.

I don’t want to sing Annina, First Lady, or Tree #3.

I want to sing leads.

And considering how badly this field pays, I won’t accept any less.

I have applied to said institution many times, and I have only received an actual PFO once.

A privileged few get to sing leads on their stage, and obviously, I am not part of their world.

C’est la vie.

As for bravery...

Don’t be afraid to speak your truth.

We pay for these institutions to exist.

Local artists are the reason future generations learn about opera, theatre, and classical music—because the provincial government sure as hell isn’t funding the arts in public schools.

Artists are also a big part of the audience.

And if I have learned anything about business, it’s this:

It is better to have a business with regular customers than to constantly have to find new ones.

This is a public institution. It should be accountable to the people who attend it and the people who fund it.

So say your piece.

Nothing gets better because the ruling class decided to empathize with the plight of the working class.

Nothing gets better that way.

Because that never happens.

The Burning Tree of Nanaimo