Calming Nerves When You're "On"

If you're in a band, community theater production or a dance troup, you know that there's nothing like being in front of a responsive with-it audience. The best performing experiences can put you in major Flow. However, sometimes in order to get there in the first place, you need to get over a case of stage fright. For me, group singing has never an occasion for nerves but give me lines to memorize and I get collywobbles. How can you deal with these so that you not only avoid bungling your part but can actually enjoy your audience?

I plucked these tips from various sources, including a former music teacher and a favorite life coach/career counselor author (job interviews are a performance, and many of us get nervous about them):

• Over-prepare. In my own experience there's really no such thing as being too prepared. Practice, memorize and practice some more. Practice until you could deliver the lines or piece in your sleep. Then rehearse a few extra times. If you're able to go on autopilot you're less likely to blank out or have a total brain dump.
• Limit caffeine intake the day of performance. Once you get in the flow, you'll be able to bounce along on the mental energy alone.
• Practice deep diaphramatic breathing on a regular basis. A therapist once explained to me that when we breathe deeply, our lungs press up against the Vagus nerve, which, when pressed, releases Seratonin, the happy-making hormone. Deep breathing isn't just a mind-occupying calming technique; there's a physiological component as well.
• As much as possible, get together with the rest of the group on the day of the show, and go over things together. Working together distracts you from analyzing your feelings. It gets you out of your own head. 
• Focus on the audience. You're giving them a gift, so make it the best gift possible. Really concentrating on the giving aspect lessens the "I gotta be good!" pressure.
• Have a reward  - a glass of your favorite wine, a few squares of really good chocolate or whatever floats your boat - waiting for you...after the show, of course.

If you're able to take your mind off yourself and become totally absorbed in the experience, you may find that the "performers' high" lasts for the rest of the evening - you won't need that glass of wine! 

The Plateau

So...you're zipping along whatever route you may have chosen to fulfillment and fun - running marathons, writing a novel, playing in a band or whatever - making excellent progress, when you suddenly land (splat!) on a plateau. You try to find a way back to your path of progress but none of your tried-and-true kickstart methods are working this time. You're stranded. Stalled. Stuck.

Plateaus are no fun when you're on one. I know; generally around this time of year, whatever group I'm in is in the middle of its rehearsal season for holiday music. The novelty of new pieces and happy reunions with familiar music are over. We've been working hard and have wrangled notes, diction and phrasing into some sort of order. However, small but persistent issues keep cropping up. We drill certain numbers over and over. Sometimes practices drag a bit. Boredom is lurking around the edges.

When you plateau it's tempting to give up and start coasting. Now more than ever, you'll need to focus. Here are a few fixes that have worked for me:

• Take a short break. Even if it's only a day or so, that may be all you need.
• Partner up with someone from your group. Run, write or practice together.
• When you're in a session and feel yourself starting to zone out, use any keep-alert tactics that work for you. Try deep breathing, moving around or drinking water (being dehydrated can make you feel tired). 
• Practice the state of mindfulness known as Be Here Now: your only task at the moment is to do this particular activity to the best of your ability. 
• Know when it really is time to quit for the day. At the point where you've used up all your mental and physical energy, it's better to try again another day rather than spin your wheels. 
• Find motivation or a goal with personal meaning that infuses you with energy. For instance, if you play in a band, what got you going in the first place? Do you like having a sense of mastery? Does performing for an audience provide your strongest motivation? Or is it belonging to a tightly knit group? There are no wrong answers so be honest. Once you know what floats your boat, you can create short and long-term goals that will help you get more of it. 

No matter how much you love your activity, it won't be one nonstop peak experience. However, if you use plateaus as learning experiences, you'll get unstuck much more quickly.

How Can We Keep From Singing?

How do you respond to a bad day - the kind where the car won't start, you're running behind on a project at work, your kid brings bad news home from school & you find out that your account's overdrawn and the mortgage withdrawal bounced? I don't mean garden-variety bad; I mean the kind of bad that leaves you devoting all your free time for the next month putting out fires & cleaning up messes. 

When stuff like that happens - when, as a friend puts it, life gets lifey - my first reaction used to be to hunker down with a cup of coffee (or if it's late, a glass of wine) and draw up detailed plans for getting everything fixed, followed by sceduling it all in the google calendar and sending out a flurry of email. All the while, I'm working myself into a jaw-clenching state of adreneline-fueled anxiety. 

But there's a saner way, one that I've made my go-to response: play or sing. Strum on the dulcimer, practice chorus material or go for a drive and do car karaoke. It's even better with a friend along. After the two of you have been belting out old Supremes tunes together for twenty minutes, everything starts to look better even though it isn't.

What's really strange and wonderful, however, is that the problems get solved more quickly and easily after a good jam session. I don't understand how this works but I'll take it.

In the various groups I've been in, members have dropped out "just for a little while" when life got lifey - when mom fell down and broke her hip, someone lost a job or the basement flooded - and I've always had to stifle the urge to run after them saying, "Wait, don't go! You need music more than ever now!" On the surface it may seem like a luxury but I've seen choir friends become dispirited or even depressed after completely laying aside music in order to devote all their spare time to fixing problems or responding to an emergency. 

It can be hard to keep on singing when you feel as though you should be fixing. Depending on your family culture, you might be penalized for not dropping everything that others label as frivolous. But how useful will you be if you're feeling resentful while "helping" others, or if your attitude sours? Recent studies, including one done by a team at Oxford, show that choral singing (and probably, any kind of music-making) boosts both mood and productivity.

It seems to me that sticking with a joy-full activity in spite of overwhelming work/home/people problems is like sending a signal to Life, The Universe & Everything: no, I won't quit and you can't make me! I've noticed that people who send out this signal during tough times often seem to receive better treatment from Life, The Universe & Everything than do the folks who knuckle under to "necessity" and stop doing what makes them happy. 

Don't stop singing, even when life gets lifey. Maybe singing won't solve your problems but you'll be able to attack them with a more hopeful attitude and it's more likely that your situation will end on a good note.

Sometimes Failure Saves You

Last week I auditioned for a group specializing entirely in traditional Christmas carols. After spotting an ad posted in Seattle Craigslist and following the cybertrail to the website belonging to Portland's version of the group, I looked it over. The group sounded fairly promising: large number of singers but they only sing in quartets; busy holiday season, and...(drumroll) costumes!

As I perused the Seattle site as well as Portland's, however, I also learned that the groups perform mostly at private parties and events (not my favorite venues - I like singing for the public), and it's expected that the singers won't have any other committments (beside work) during the holiday season. This raised a few red flags but I still felt as though I should audition just for the experience.

It turned out they were holding auditions the next weekend. I booked my slot, then started having second thoughts. The week ahead was unusually busy, both on the job and elsewhere, and I'd have very little time to prepare. I also hadn't been singing challenging music regularly since my last ensemble disbanded over a year ago.

But still - costumes...

I practiced as much as I was able, given the week's business, and chose a carol with a simple and familiar melody. On Sunday I went to the audition site, read the info sheet and filled out the app form. At the question, "From Thanksgiving through December, can you clear your calendar of everything not related to work?" the red flags started swishing madly. Still, I'd driven all the way over there and even had my work schedule rearranged to accomodate the time slot. When someone called my name, I went in.

The director ran through a vocalizing exercise that barely covered an octave. I sang the first verse of my song - not my best work; the key I chose was too low and my voice cracked on one of the notes. Then he and his assistant told me that 15 women were auditioning for a couple of slots (subtext: don't get your hopes up); no tenors or basses had signed up to audition this year, so the ranks of sopranos and altos were very full already (why wasn't I surprised?), and they'd be in touch shortly. The whole thing, start to finish, was over in less than 10 minutes.

After arriving home from work that evening, I followed my gut feeling and emailed the director to ask that my name be taken off the list. The whole experience had felt sort of impersonal, and without a chance to actually visit a rehearsal, I'd no way of knowing whether I'd like being part of it.

 The following day I received an email informing me that I hadn't made the cut - the standard "We had many fine voices and it was difficult to decide" letter - but I'd already moved on. I suspect that my mind, knowing that the group wouldn't be a good fit, forced the rest of me to cooperate by tripping me up during what was a pretty easy audition by most standards.

And I'm grateful for it.

Just Listen

One of my favorite singers, with the perfect range.

Pushing Yourself Beyond Your Limits

Choir rehearsal this past Wednesday almost did me in. Sunday's material wasn't hard at all. It was the focused work on a Bach cantata, a joint project with another choir, that pushed all of us hard.

Wednesday tends to be my most demanding work day. The day starts around 6:30 and trammels nonstop down the track. After leaving work at 6:00 p.m. I head straight to practice, finding time to munch an apple on the way if I'm fortunate. We work for several hours, by the end of which I'm usually both starved and ready to hit the pillow. This time we didn't start the most difficult part of rehearsal until almost 8:00. It took all my power of concentration to focus on the intricate runs that proliferate throughout the St. John's Passion, especially since we're doing it in German, which isn't a language I find easy.

Although it's hard at the time, periodically working at this intense level is good. It can help you break through barriers that won't budge under gentler pressure. By the end of Wednesday's rehearsal I was so tired I don't remember details of how it went. But the act of pushing aside fatigue and mustering up the necessary focus helps build stamina. Like muscle strength, such reserves of willpower can come in handy when you're in the midst of hectic preparations for a demanding show or concert.

You don't want to sing like this every day, but done periodically, it's like musical weight-lifting.

Choral Reconnaissance: Knowing What You're Looking For

For the last six months I've been exploring choral options in my locale, the SW Washington-PDX area. For nearly 13 years I'd belonged to a small (10-16 singers) madrigal group, and was mostly happy with that. Like any group, it had its issues, and at times I'd felt stuck in a box (not an unusual situation when you're an alto), but we did interesting & challenging music. Times were changing, though, and when three of our men departed at the end of summer, we realized that we couldn't keep trying to work with the balance problems that had been building for several years. We decided to take an indefinite break.

It was tempting to rush in and fill up the musical hole with the first group I could find. However, I quickly found out that being part of a small democratic group can spoil you; going back to a cast-of-thousands chorus where the director's dictum is law isn't appealing anymore. The last time I sang in such a chorus, the only people I got to know well were the two women who sat on my left and right - kind of an isolating experience.

Time to go a-hunting.

In a small town, singers are usually limited to one community chorus but in most major metropolitan areas there are numerous choral choices, not even counting the bezillions of church choirs everywhere. How do you decide where to focus?

Here's what I've learned to keep in mind:

• Motivation behind wanting to sing with a group. Is it purely for enjoyment? Is it a crucial part of your social life - are you seeking friendships that extend beyond rehearsal nights? Do you want a serious challenge, musically speaking? Or do you want to keep it light? Are you hoping for solo or small group opportunities? Do you love performing for its own sake? I suggest taking a few minutes to write down your goals, no matter how informal they are. 
• Preferences, which are as individual as each singer. Over the years I've discovered that I like (and seem to do my best work) in small groups of 20 or fewer. I have a friend who loves being part of an enormous group that can carry off impressive works like Beethoven's Ninth. Consider your own preferences: do you gravitate towards classical repertoire, barber shop, Broadway or a mix? What directorial style suits you best - meticulous and detailed or loose and easy? 
• Skills and abilities. After completing a survey of smaller groups within a 50-mile radius (we choristers will go to great lengths...) I realized that I'd have to "up" my skill level in order to have a chance at a slot in about half of them - members were, if not paid professionals, advanced singers with serious training and experience. If you're aiming for a non-auditioning chorus, you can just show up. But if you're aiming for a selective group, consider getting vocal coaching even if for a limited time. It can really pay off when audition time rolls around.
• Finally, there's your budget. Membership in a choir can be free (church), affordable or prohibitively expensive. While working overseas in a notoriously expensive city, I joined a chorus that required members to purchase 5 tickets for each performance - hopefully you'd recoup your money by selling the tickets to friends...but if your friends weren't fans of classical choral music you were out of luck. Ouch! Know what you're willing and able to pay. Find out from current or former members whether the group tends to spring surprise expenses beyond the quarterly or seasonal fee. And try to determine how much time members spend in fundraising activities. Can your schedule handle extra commitments?

If you find out as you explore that your requirements are so narrow that you're not finding anything, you can always broaden them. But unless you're a total novice at choral singing, it helps to start out small, with a few first and second-tier possibilities, plus a Plan B in case you don't find what you're looking for at all. 

And while you're seeking, keep singing, even if it's just to yourself, in the shower or car. Or hook up with a casual community chorus that doesn't audition. Ot take lessons and pick your teacher's brain. Stay in the game. Finding a group is like finding a job: if you're already active in something, you're more likely to make the sorts of connections that can lead to the perfect-for-you opportunity.