JE DIS= JE “DISASTER”
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It is the fall of 1997. I am in my 2nd year of graduate school as a vocal performance major. I am surviving the music school vocal grind with everyday singing expectations from teaching, performance classes, and rehearsals. I have just sung my first young artist program, Dorian Opera Theater, albeit a tuition one, and had a wonderful experience. I am very young dramatic soprano at the time, singing a lot of Mozart. My middle voice is attractively filling in at 27 but my top hasn’t completely caught up; almost making me sound like a soubrette according to the high level coaches. I don’t have much in the area of dynamic contrast. At the time, I looked down on myself due to this fact but now I know that easily available dynamics weren’t to be for years to come due to sheer throat physicality.
Somehow, I have made it to the 1997 Metropolitan Opera Regional Finals for the Western Division. My dance card that got me through two rounds was the ever available “Rusalka” which was the vocal girdle of my technique flaws and Dove Sono which I do believe to this day could be well executed by a mezzo-soprano.
The regional finals are at USC in California. I have called my Dad to tell him that I advanced. He didn’t believe me at first. Yeah, he was there all along through my vocal struggles so I can’t really blame him. The finals are being radio broadcast. I am a part of the top ten singers who have made it this far. It is the round before the finals in NYC. I am completely spooked but somehow muster the courage to go up and sing my Dvorak. Of course, following the tall blonde tenor and his clarion high Cs wasn’t too fair. The lights were up so I could see the audience. I did ok on my first piece. Respectable, I guess. They actually like my Czech. I just liked that it got my sound out and focused my voice.
I gingerly walk to get a glass of water while the judges choose my next piece. All I can think is, please don’t pick “je dis,” for the love of God, please don’t pick “je dis.” They won’t, right? They always want Mozart.
The announcer with his most austere and intimidating voice (it is imprinted in my brain since I still have the cassette that they gave us,) “And now, Elizabeth Perryman will sing….Je dis que rien ne me’pouvante.”
I am hoping you read that in the most snooty voice you can imagine cuz that is EXACTLY what echoed in my mind that was simulateously and silently repeating many a f***ks.
Somehow I found the confidence to just sing it and keep going. I wanted to run away but I somehow I stayed. I broke phrases. My voice was shaking throughout. Good lord, if Micaela wasn’t truly in that theater that day, however vocally kaput…. Protégé Moi indeed.
The audience gave me the aw, poor girl, pity clap after I finished and I quickly exited.
All this to say, despite the humiliation of singing this piece 18 years ago, my French being characterized as pedestrian by the adjudicators, I am still doing my best, making progress, and contributing to the singing arena many years later.
I had much more success singing the whole role of Micaela in 2001 and now, in 2015, I have really started wearing my big girl singing britches.
I am singing “Je Dis” this Sunday at my recital. It feels like an entirely new piece and one that is completely in my wheelhouse.
I guess all this to say to fellow singers, keep at it. Don’t take critiques or criticism as gospel. Steer away from folks who want to forever corner your voice and make hard and fast judgments. Opinions are as ever changing as the waves of an ocean. Popular opera singers can be as fleeting as pop stars. Vocal pedagogy is real. I am living proof. I have cassettes and CDs to prove it. Now when I sing, people say, you are so fortunate. You have such a gift, it just comes out of you. It has taken 30 plus years to “just come out.” I know that these comments come from a kind place but it wasn’t the feedback I received as I cracked my entire junior year of college. Feedback in 1989 was more like, nice dress, good high A. You just can’t take it too seriously, good or bad.
A great opera director once told me, the key to having a life in singing is tenacity. That’s all. It isn’t the hall or venue. It is about using your voice to help heal and possibly be a force in the positive transformation of the many difficulties we all face in this mortal world. This profession is a gravely challenging one but one that I count as a great blessing. #kintsucrooner
(headshot circa 1997)
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