The singing exam
I sang my three pieces for my exam and felt amazing. I was incredibly happy with how I had performed. I had the right amount of nervous energy to get me through but not so much that it interfered with my breathing. For the first time in the past few days I felt happy about singing again. I had done that performance exam for myself and not for anyone else.
After I had finished singing I was a little bit surprised when the head of Classical voice asked if I would mind her having a chat with me. A look of terror must have passed over my face but I said “Sure. That would be great.” I was prepared for the worst, a list of reasons as to why I hadn’t been offered a place into university something along the lines of:
- You’re too old
- We don’t see any potential in you anymore
- It would be a waste of our time to teach you
- You haven’t improved
- You don’t have the right attitude to be a performer
Every single negative thing I could think of passed through my mind in the split second between the words “Chat” and “Sure”. I sat down a little apprehensively, and suddenly lost the ability to speak.
“You’re probably wondering why you weren’t offered a place in the Bachelor Course.”
I nodded
“It was a very difficult decision to make. Linda (my vocal teacher) and I spent a good amount of time discussing your situation. You have a good voice. There is no denying that. What we wondered though was whether this is the right place for you?”
Cue big puppy dog eyes and a sudden urge to start crying.
“We could keep you here for the next three years and you would come out as a very fine singer but you would also come out a lot older. Most of the girls going out into the profession are your age or a couple of years younger. So we thought, why delay.”
A stunned expression then crossed my face mixed with a tiny bit of confusion and hopefulness.
“Your voice is ready now to go out and work as a singer. We are prepared to help you as much as we can, starting with getting you an audition with the new Music Director for the state Opera. We believe that you are mature enough and you have demonstrated to us your ability to learn from watching and participating whenever an opportunity has arise. We think you would learn a lot more through singing in the Opera chorus and working your way up through the ranks, the more traditional route you could say.”
My mouth has dropped open and I don’t know who to look at.
“We will help you prepare for the audition, you can continue singing lessons here with us and we will help you in any way we can. If you decide that actually you’d like to do the course than we are happy to offer you a place instead. So what do you think?”
It suddenly occurs to me that I need to speak coherently.
“I can’t believe this. The last five days I have been going over and over in my head “What did I do? What didn’t I do? I didn’t know what had happened”
“You did brilliantly at your audition, the improvement from the beginning of the year has been wonderful. Even from the audition to your exam today there has been a huge improvement. You work hard and it shows.”
The rest of the conversation sort of tapered out into discussion of where to go from here. I would have to email them to let them know if I wanted to go ahead with the Opera audition or if I wanted a place in the course. I couldn’t stop smiling and by the time I had reached the door to the Music Auditorium I was in tears.
At the bottom of the stairs was my accompanist, Tim and a friend who had his exam next, David. They both looked really worried at my crying. They both knew I hadn’t got into the course I so desperately wanted to get into. All I could stammer was “They told me why I didn’t get in.” and then I explained about the Opera and the option I had been given. Their faces went from worry to happiness. Ben was there too and I hugged him with excitement, I then hugged them both too.
I was so happy! My life is taking a huge change of direction.
Photo of me taken on my way home from the exam. I couldn’t wipe that smile off my face all day!
I didn’t get in.
I waited until Ben got home at about 2:30 in the afternoon before I opened the letter. We both sat in the lounge room and decided that it would probably be better for my sanity if I opened the letter right away than spend the next five days wondering what is inside, especially as more and more notices were appearing on facebook of people in my course who had been accepted in the Bachelor of Music.
I opened it and read the first line. The tone wasn’t right. It wasn’t uplifting or exciting. I knew right away what I was holding, it was a rejection letter. A cold, emotionless rejection letter. There was no reason for me not being offered a place, no explanation of why they hadn’t said yes, just a paragraph and a half thanking me for my audition and the line “we are not able to offer you a place in this program at the current time”. I looked at the letter. I looked at Ben. I looked at the letter again and then burst into tears. I was crushed.
I couldn’t understand it. I had worked hard all year. I had done extra performances. I had practiced more than any other person in the course. How could I not get in? It didn’t seem fair or right. I couldn’t comprehend it and all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and disappear from the world. I felt like such a failure.
It wasn’t until that moment that I realised how much I had wanted that life. I wanted to sing every day and I wanted to learn. It didn’t seem fair that a letter could change the direction of my entire life.
I went through the next few days broken hearted. I felt empty inside and it was hard to stay focused on the exam. I went through swinging emotions of “I don’t give a shit about this damn exam. They’ve already made up their mind that I’m not good enough.” to “I’m going to show them what they missed out on. I am going to practise so hard they are going to beg me to be in the course.” I did practise and I did work incredibly hard on my exam pieces. I also spent long periods of time crying in bed, eating marshmallows and watching crappy television.
The day before my exam I found out that we would be singing in the Music Auditorium for the exams. This is without a doubt my favourite place to sing. With this idea in mind, a sort of farewell to university, I went to that exam more prepared than ever. I wore my favourite dress and shoes, I had my hair and make-up done nicely and I went in there thinking about nothing other than singing my best and performing for an auditorium full of no-one, but imagined it was full of my friends. I felt amazing and it was the best singing I had ever produced in my lifetime. The best part was I had done it for me and not some audition panel. This was my moment to say goodbye and move on.
Image by castorgirl (Flickr)
“Help! My letter from the university arrivered today and I don’t know what to do!” I have just sent this message to Ben because I can’t get a hold of him on the phone and I seriously don’t know what to do. I had said that if my letter arrived before my final performance exam then I wouldn’t open it until the exam was over. The thinking behind this was that if the letter said “Yes you are in for next year!” then I would be all like “Well who cares about the performance exam then?”, but then if the letter said “Sorry you are not in for next year”, then I would still be all like “Well who cares about the performance exam then?”
Now that it is sitting here on the desk in front of me I am not so sure I can wait another five days before opening it. This is the letter that regardless of its contents is going to change the course of my life.
If I am in then I am going to be spending the next three years of my life making myself into the best classical singer I can be. I will be studying at an amazing institution learning from incredibly inspiring people. I will get to spend every single day of my life doing what I want to be doing, which is singing.
If the letter is not what I am hoping then my life isn’t over but I will be dissapointed. I won’t have a strict plan for what I am going to do with my life but singing will still be a part of it. I will probably re-audition for the theme parks, get some more experience in performance, push myself furthur and take myself more seriously then I have been in the past.
Either way my life is going to change. So do I open the letter?
Look…
I know, at times, you don’t think you can’t do this.
I know, at times, it seems like such a humungous waste of time and effort.
I know there are also times when you’ve wanted to curl up in to a ball and blink out of existence because, well, because it’s just you and what do you matter?
This is all well understood and, I might add, experienced in the first degree.
But…
Don’t forget that you got in.
Don’t forget that you have, on at least 5 occasions, learnt the impossible in less than a 24 hours.
Don’t forget that there are lots of people who look up to you for advice; for guidance; for understanding; for bus fare; who would not be where they are now if you hadn’t been there, at that moment, to help them along.
Don’t forget that, even now – sitting here, waiting for you to come home while the cats try to push me off both pillows in the sitting room – I’m still so god-damn proud of you and what you have achieved this year, and last, that it makes it all worth it.
Sure, I might have kicked you up the bum to get out there and made sure you had a packed lunch or whatever you needed to forget to try to have a disaster on the way, but you’re the one who’s doing it. It’s you.
Really. It’s all you. It really, really is.
X
Your Bitey-saurus
Just when the end seemed in sight, when I was so sure that the finish line victory was mine, I turned the cornor and saw the hurdles. Nothing was as sure as it was two months, two days, or even two minutes ago. I thought the future was clear that it was just time and perseverence that was needed and I would cross the line in first. I would get my place at singing school.
Now it seems that there is more to do.
This is the hardest part.
For the past two months it has almost been certain that I would be attending university next year as a vocal student. I am doing well in my classes, I study hard, I practsise my singing to my insanely high standards and the best part, my teachers thought I had the talent to go through.
Yesterday however that all changed. On one hand I feel like this has come out of the blue but listening over the things I was told it all seems to make some kind of sense. Like something just out of the cornor of my eye, I thought I could see something but it wasn’t a big enough issue to worry about. Now it is smack bam in front of my eyes and it is not going away.
Basically I have been told that the head of the vocal department is not convinced I have what it takes. My development, as shown at my audition, has been minimal at best. I have a negative attitude towards new challenges, I pass the blame of things on to others and don’t take responsibility for myself. Those last two things kind of make me angry because I think I blame myself more than anybody else.
I guess I am really confused. This all seems to have come out of the blue. How could something so certain now be hanging in the balance of a ten minute performance exam in three weeks? Why am I being thrown such a huge challenge this close to the end? Where did the “don’t worry about it! You’re doing great!” attitude of my teachers go?
I feel confused and upset. I also feel really tired because I am not giving up. Not when I have come this far. It is going to hurt and it is not going to be easy. But I do not want to get that rejection letter knowing I could have done more. I want to know I did everything in my power to get in, and when I do I am going to be so damn amazing the entire world is going to stand back and watch!
