I wish I was a consistent writer. Yes, yes, I know that it’s a matter of discipline and practice, not wishing...but it’s precisely because I am undisciplined that I resort to wishing.
Thankfully, one of the steps I did take towards making this wish a greater possibility has borne good fruit.
Three years ago, I got an email from Lisa Rubin, artistic director at the Segal Centre, inviting me to sing in the Blame Canada edition of Broadway Cafe. This concert, featuring Canadian musical theatre content, had previously been produced in other cities (see fellow classmate Sara Wunsch’s article on the concert!), and I was delighted to take part along with several other talented performers.
Subsequent to that performance I was asked to perform in a concert of the same name at 54 Below in New York City, which I wrote about here.
At the time of the Montreal concert, I pestered Landon Braverman about how I might start the Canadian Musical Theatre Writers’ Collective Workshop in Montreal, a class which had run in both Toronto and Vancouver. He told me we would need at least 12 people to run the class, and someone to teach it. I suggested Jonathan Monro as a teacher, and after that, I set about finding the other 11 would be apostles of Montreal Broadway musical writing. 🙂 We spent the last two years together learning about structuring musicals, lyric writing, story elements, but more importantly, about how to support each other constructively.
Cut to Mon Aug 31st, when we presented our group’s year end showcase online, as featured here in Broadway World! Should you be so inclined, you can watch the entire showcase here:
My classmates all put forth excellent, creative work from the musicals they are developing, and the night felt very joyful.
As for myself, I was fortunate to have my songs presented by two wonderful artists. Both Petrina Bromley, and Marie-Pierre de Brienne went above and beyond with their performances of my work. I didn’t see anything ahead of time so it was delightful to be surprised at the same time as the rest of the audience.
My piece, Cougar Town, (arranged by Doug Price), wherein a middle aged music teacher wrestles with her conflicted feelings for her 20 year old student, opened the evening, which you can see here:
The second song, Hylas, (piano arrangement by Benjamin Kwong, track orchestrated by Jonathan Monro), was originally written as a stand alone folk song, but when I brought it to one of our classes, I was encouraged to consider it for the song cycle I was working on.
The name Hylas is that of Heracles' (the Roman Hercules) companion and servant in classical mythology. Described by the poet Theocritus as a boy “whose hair hung down in curls”, he was abducted by water nymphs due to his beauty and it is said that he decided to remain with them "to share their power and their love."
This story was a frequent subject of paintings for British artists in the 19th and early 20th centuries:
Last fall, I happened to meet someone whose look was similar to that of other paintings in this era and he ended up being my inspiration for the song. In this piece, an older woman attempts to convince her younger, casual lover to commit to a relationship or risk losing what she considers to be her last chance at love.
You can see Marie Pierre’s beautiful interpretation of it here:
My plan is to eventually record the song myself with a music video. I even have a dream photographer in mind: Candice Ghai...anyone want to fly her to me, or me to her? 🙂
Our happy band of writers has decided to continue on as a collective and I'm so grateful for their presence. Meanwhile, a new cohort of creators will begin the year one class this fall, this time offered in both English and French, with Virginie Daigle joining Jonathan to teach. If you are interested in joining the class in the future, feel free to reach out to me and I can put you in touch!
Would love to hear your feedback on the songs! (I eventually hope to post the sheet music here for sale but if you are interested in it before it is available, let me know and we can make an arrangement by email).
Keep creating, dear fellow humans. This pandemic may filled with precarity, but beauty is both a balm and an antidote in this very odd time.
The phrase "level up" has been popping up in my vocabulary lately. Ironically, it's one I feel unworthy of using since it seems to belong to a way of speaking that seems foreign to me, and something I vaguely associate with prosperity gospel nonsense.
Now, seeking excellence or improving oneself or circumstances need not involve striving after riches. Thank goodness, for I've found that it's not something I do well. I absolutely cannot pursue things solely for the money - at least not in any long term fashion. Admittedly, it is tempting to imagine being in some parallel universe where I am famous and can charge exorbitant rates to people who have hitherto left me out in the cold professionally. Mwah ha ha.
Yes, I've worked boring, well paid gigs, but too long in those and I would start to go insane. I had one desk job with no window and whose staff refused the only creative initiative I could take within my purview: to change our coffee supply to fair trade. I would occasionally go dance in the bathroom as a form of desperate rebellion.
Another sales job required me to demo a highly priced item, surrounded by other beauty products to which I would have never given the slightest bit of attention, but devoid of intellectual challenge, I started becoming overly preoccupied with looking at my face and wondering if $80 serums really would make a difference. Finances required that I ignore the deprivation of my face (real or imagined), but I could not ignore that my brain seemed to be melting. And thus I concluded that an excess of mindless things or people in my life result in my being restless or resentful.
Ah, but there is the problem. Life doesn't always match you up perfectly with jobs or people or situations or salaries that reflect your preferences or abilities or allow you to reach your fullest potential. Either you stay put and suffer from stagnation, a feeling that you are settling for mediocrity, or, you spend a great deal of money/energy/time in order to access a better situation. In the latter situation, one can come up short or simply not achieve the desired results. For me, the mere thought of trying to change my situation, even if it is for the better, can trigger all sorts of negative emotions as I remember the cost of previous attempts. All that to say that I have a complicated relationship with levelling up.
How to balance the desire for simplicity and humility with the sense of obligation to seek excellence and the desire to do more than merely survive? How to recognize and live from one's identity as both royalty and a beggar in front of God? How to store up riches in heaven while going about the business of life and the life of business on earth?
I don't have a blueprint for building either a worldly empire, or my own particular corner of the Kingdom of God. It all seems very overwhelming most days and I am grateful if I can just manage to pray morning prayer, eat more vegetables than carbs, and have pairs for all the socks after a cycle of laundry.
What I do know is that thoughtful consideration of what is Good, True, and Beautiful in the context of every day decisions, is paramount. Asking oneself whether or not one is being fair, honest, generous, and responsible with one's time and gifts cannot be optional. Here are some such questions to consider:
Speaking of good things, here was a lovely interview I did recently with Elijah Baker of Musiprof, a web platform to market independent music teachers - part of my levelling up!
In the meantime, check out my calendar to keep up with me in the next couple of months! This week I sing in a concert version of West Side Story with l'Orchestre de la Francophonie; at the end of August I will be performing in the Côte St Luc Dramatic Society's remount of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat at the Segal Centre, and in the fall I will be increasing my voice studio AND I hope to have a special event to announce in November, soon!
"The feminine is that which receives inspiration, grace, life, holds it within the body, and gives it existence. Woman is the receiver through whom God transmits the life-giving signal of His love into the world. The mediatrix. The medium in His will made manifest...She is child-bearer, certainly, but also the bearer of artistic works, political hopes, new ideas, healing knowledge, community histories, loves and remembrances treasured in the heart."
- Melinda Selmys, Mysteries You Learned Disguised
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God; 3 all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made." John 1:1-3
From the beginning, the Word had me. Words had me. That Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst me and my loved ones, pouring Himself out through the hands of my mother and father, their daily acts of sacrifice writing the first love story I learned.
It wasn't long before I too, wrote stories, took words and made them flesh, let them ring out in song, or move and have their being onstage, or messily wrestle with eternity on pages that ended up in the pockets of friends and family. Worlds born from the womb of my mind and heart spun into others' orbits, depositing seeds and debris, to my delight and dismay, respectively.
Without knowing it, I was imitating the life of Mary, the first word-bearer, the Woman whose "Yes" undid Eve's "No".
To say yes to the love story of God, to carry Him – and thus, others, as He is always in the least of these - is to open oneself to the life abundant, replete with both joy and suffering. Maddeningly, the two are often intertwined. Your children will drive you insane, yet are the ones who make you laugh the most. The works you sweat over will twist your hands with arthritis, roughen your fingers, fatigue your muscles, wear your joints, and break your heart.
As both a subject and co-author in the love story of my life, I have noticed that there is really no getting away from such labour pains. I can prepare well, rest adequately, put a thousand plans of prevention in place, but there will always be interruptions, demands from others, my own character faults and the pesky fact that I am not God, and so I cannot see all I wish I could. The narrative I would love to run with gets resisted by reality and of course, I then rail against the unfairness of it all. And yet, if I direct my work towards the good, true and the beautiful, it becomes the means through which the Potter moulds me into a work of art.
At least, I hope so. This is the story I have learned to tell myself because my CV doesn’t tell the story I wished it did. When I was younger, I dreamed of Broadway, of being a working singer, of continuing to be a favourite amongst the powers that be. (It never occurred to me that some of those whom I hoped to please would not necessarily be like the teachers I had who had championed me, but more like the highschool peers whose cliques were closed to those who failed popularity contests, based on ever elusive criteria.) I never cared much about riches so living simply was never a great shock or burden, but the one story that didn’t exist in my mind was one of my life ending up, well, average, or one where career success wasn’t primary.
Over time, I’ve adjusted. I quietly said goodbye to Broadway in my heart, to being any kind of name, and simply focused on artistic and personal integrity: that is a story I can always trust myself to tell, or, at least it is what I attempt to return to when lost. Every once in awhile, I’m permitted a glimpse of the fruit of those efforts, investments in things which seem to call to me. Those things never seem particularly business savvy or something destined to move me up any known ladder of success...but they always seem urgent and necessary.
Such a glimpse came this past Sunday evening, on Mother’s Day, at the year end showcase for the inaugural Canadian Musical Theatre Writers’ Collective Montreal Writers’ Workshop. A year and a half ago, I had approached Landon Braverman during the CMTWC Blame Canada Montreal concert, asking him how many people I would need to run the writers’ workshop in Montreal. He told me 12, and so I set about hustling on FB groups, and bothering any friends I knew who had ever written anything in the hopes that the class could go forward.
While there was initially a good deal of self interest in my endeavour - I long had been looking for formal collaborations with composers and this seemed to be an ideal set up – I also had an inkling that there were writing voices in our unique province within Canada that were waiting to be heard.
I was right.
Those voices came forward and formed a lovely class, masterfully mentored by Jonathan Monro, that met bi-weekly from Oct to April, collaborating on various song forms within the musical theatre genre, and culminating in the writing of a 10 minute musical in pairs. Sunday evening featured a selection from our work throughout the year, performed with aplomb by Michael Daniel Murphy, Justin Eddy, Katee Julien, Sara Wunsch, yours truly, and Marie-Pierre de Brienne. My special thanks to Marie-Pierre for singing my song here below, written with Cynthia Chalifour.
The work was varied and interesting - we sang about umbrellas, demons, kittens, tea, and avocados, just to name a few subjects – and the atmosphere in the room was attentive and joyous.
As creators, it was rewarding to see our work brought to life in front of an audience – an audience that filled the Arts Lounge at the Segal Centre, I might add – and the audience seemed to respond to this newness.
As I watched and participated in the congratulatory buzz following the performance, feeling immense pride in my classmates’ talent and work, it occurred to me that it made perfect sense for me personally to have this event be part of Mother’s Day: I had carried a dream to term, helped push it into the world, and now it was breathing on its own.
“...blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord." And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden.” Luke 1:45-48
A long time dream of mine is finally on it's way to happening.
Back in 2012, I came across a blogpost online by Cole Matson, who proposed the idea of a Catholic artists' community. In reading it, my heart beat faster and I wondered if I had finally stumbled onto the idea which most fully reflected my vocation-to-be. I wrote Cole to ask where he was at with his idea, and he responded with a fully thought out idea document on the idea of a consecrated lay institute for artists. Ever since then, having a community of some kind has been part of my hope and desire.
For awhile I wondered if this meant I should move to New York (where he was at the time). It became clear that this was not really practical since the community did not yet exist and it would be hard to discern something that was being built while still trying to find a way to live - and being Canadian meant working there was not a viable option unless I paid for a visa of some kind. Moreover, my sense of belonging to Montreal has remained a constant even when dealing with the regular doubts I've had that I am supposed to be in this crazy business at all. But I had no idea or know how with regards to just starting a community especially when I felt like I was a community of one. Most of the fellow Christian artists I had connected with were living in the States and I felt as though I must be the only one in Canada interested in this idea in any serious way.
Eventually what kept coming back to my spirit was the idea of a retreat. I could dedicate several paragraphs to how the specific form of this retreat came about, but all I know is that it was a consistent calling, and as I took steps forward - and continue to - I am amazed at just how much I hope this will touch others and build them up in concrete ways.
If you are a Christian who considers art their profession and/or vocation, I would invite you to attend, to begin the building up of a stronger community that I hope will do no less than transform the Church and the world, that will do the work of revealing the Truth in attractive and compelling ways.
Here is the link to register: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/created-an-artists-retreat-crees-une-retraite-pour-artistes-tickets-54475446527
And the link to the FB event: https://www.facebook.com/events/275986859673250/
Many thanks to Marie-Pier Larose for her work on this poster!
I had originally planned to go dancing tonight but age - no, rather, maturity and a desire to do some professional housekeeping and reflection kept me cosy in my room, eating carrots and dip (ok, I confess I had a notable amount of dill pickle and sour cream & onion chips prior to these!) and listening to tracks from Tori Kelly’s latest album.
As I began doing a re-cap of 2018 in numbers, I thought I wouldn’t have much to show. While I have been far happier as a full time freelancer than I was in my last year or two of a desk job that stole my joy and my health, it is an existence that more often than not makes me feel as though nothing is really being built: no fortune, no fame, nothing that the world considers a marker of success.
Surprisingly, when I did count the things that could be counted, there was much more than I had remembered, and each thing I counted was more than simply a checkmark or a goal reached, but an unfolding of my person, and, I hope, the mission which has been entrusted to me by God.
So here is 2018, by the numbers:
Firsts: 13
In meticulously combing through my calendar I realized that while this felt like a quiet year (with the exception of Fame), it was in fact a year where I did many things for the first time.
As mentioned, this was my first full year as a freelancer and the work included my first time:
Cantoring at a major basilica (St Patrick’s),
dancing & working on a major American movie set (Midway),
In makeup before getting into costume
writing and preparing dramatic sketches for staff training with the Cree school board,
singing for a major corporate gig out of town
The beautiful Fairmont Le Château Montebello
being a musical guest on a TV program at Concordia
And of course, there was Fame.
I wrote a great deal on it before here and here so I won’t repeat myself but I cannot tell you just how much it meant to finally experience a life long dream. Not only was it an artistically incredible experience, but it was a reassurance that I hadn’t been foolish in pursuing performance in the first place, that I could not only handle a lead role in a large scale professional musical (and finally be paid - this was only the 2nd time!) but that I could do it with almost no preparation time and be trusted to step into some very large shoes (Marie-Denise might say that large shoes were part of the problem: je continue a lui souhaiter la guérison et l’amour!)
Daniel Ouimet was kind enough to give me an honourable mention in writing up his musical theatre "coups de coeur" for 2018, with Fame being named as best French musical, and castmates Jordan Donoghue and Marie-Denise Pelletier recognized as revelation of the year and best female actor, respectively, and a nod to Serge Postigo as well, as director.
Check out Marie-Denise's tour dates here on her website!
At this point, I am trying to figure out how much performance will play a part in my future.
Do I keep actively pursuing auditions?
Is that the right place to put my energy?
While Fame was a major breakthrough, I, for the most part, have always seemed to experience near misses for major productions and often been the “wrong age” for everything. At 20 years old I was told I played way older than 20 and so couldn’t be considered for 19 year old Sophie in Mamma Mia. This year I was told that I looked too young to play 40 for the moms in Dear Evan Hansen. Despite not booking the job, this was my favourite audition of the year, with the longest callback I’ve ever had. The casting team worked intensely with me; I think I spent a total of two and a half hours between the two auditions. It’s exhausting to be told no so often but I do feel that I can now handle rejection with more peace because what I am after no longer feels impossible because it is something that I have never reached.
It’s important to be grateful and realistic because it is entirely possible that Fame may be the only opportunity of that kind that I will ever receive...but it couldn’t have been more perfect.
And, I’m finally a UdA member!
2018 also marked my first:
visit to a synagogue for Purim
niece (a month old today!),
first time making challah bread, cinnamon rolls and hosting Xmas dinner,
as well as first time getting accupuncture, doing a Blanket Exercise to learn about indigenous history, hosting a Christian Artists Wine & Cheese night, (a prelude to the retreat this March) and online dating: my only regret!!
Jobs: 10
(This number refers to ongoing work as opposed to individual gigs.) Amazingly, all of these jobs save three were artistically related, and the three that weren’t artistic in nature I obtained through contacts in the arts. Singing and teaching took most of my time: two church music jobs, 6 - 10 voice students over the course of the year, and a variety of funerals, weddings, private parties, corporate gigs, and subbing as a choir conductor and for children’s theatre classes.
Shows: 16
This included 3 shows on Broadway, including Hello Dolly with the legendary Bernadette Peters
Backstage at Hello Dolly with Nathan
an Andrea Bocelli concert,
and the homegrown success of Come From Away in Toronto, a gift from my parents.
The other things that can’t be so easily categorized but deserve a mention are: the scene study classes I attended through the Centaur, the How to Succeed in Music Theatre Conference in Toronto held by the CMTWC,
the inaugural Musical Theatre Writers’ Workshop class in Montreal that I helped organize (also through CMTWC and taught by Jonathan Monro), within which I've written lyrics for two new songs with Graham Isaak and Sara Wunsch; a record number of duets/collaborations for gigs and Broadway Cafe, a trip to DC to see my goddaughter, being asked to be godmother for a second time, and guest lecturing at McGill for the Intro to Catholicism class again.
Most important of all, though, is this : it is well with my soul.
I am being built.
At the end of my life, it will be me facing God, and He will not care about my CV or my bank account or my stats, only my heart.
This spring/summer will be the first time in over 6 years that I am not on stage in a production. It’s a strange feeling.
On one hand, I am very much looking forward to being able to appreciate these days with more light and sun (please, God!!) outside instead of a darkened theatre.
I feel the sun! I feel the air!
I don’t have to worry about getting injured which hopefully means more time out dancing which is good for body and soul. I won’t have to miss family functions or time with friends because of rehearsals.
On the other, I feel somewhat dispossessed.
The theatre is often described as unpredictable and that’s true in some sense. Business wise, it is a roller coaster. One is subject to so many variables and the work itself is hardly easy. Yet, what I like most about doing a show is that for roughly two hours, I know exactly where to be, exactly what to do, when to do it, and what to say. I can trust that I will be with the same people who will also do their part, that we are all working towards a defined goal, together.
We don’t get that in life. While I believe there is a Director, He is one who respects His actors' freedom a great deal. There is no stage manager to make sure I am on time for work or a props person to ensure that I really do put my keys back at the same place each time.
There is no set script, and any number of actors can come or go from the scene at any time. Given the uncertainty of life, the same show every night for several weeks is, for me, a great comfort. There is always variety and spontaneity - that is the nature of live performance - but within the safe boundaries of a choreographed story.
While I do not regret the decision I made - to no longer sing for free, or at least, very rarely - it’s uncomfortable to tell people I don’t have any performances coming up (other than private gigs). It’s sad to not have the routine performing, as well as the discipline and mindset performing puts me into. I’m usually in better shape, in a better overall mood (even if exhausted), when in a show. I laugh more, drink more water, sleep more deeply. And I get a chance to love a particular group of people in a specific focused way for an all too short amount of time. Sometimes I think I appreciate the backstage moments more than those where I sing.
Break legs this season, my dear friends. Write it all down and put the applause in your pocket and take it out and listen to it later on when you have the blues. But most of all, be present. The phone can wait: these moments are unique.
Lately I’ve been privileged to witness my students really discover what their voices are capable of. I think one of the most rewarding aspects of teaching is watching students be surprised by new things in their voice, the looks on their faces when they realize that that sound came out of them.
That was me?!
It doesn’t really matter what sound it is. It’s new to them, different, sometimes even disconcerting because it feels foreign, sometimes frustrating because, well, “Why can’t I always do that?!” But most often, there is joy. It is the joy of knowing there is more to them than they knew, that they already have the capacity to do something that may have seemed out of reach; now it’s just a matter of making it a habit.
Betsey Wolfe looking at Stephanie J. Block with the expression that is on my face when I am wishing I had either of these ladies' technique.
Ultimately, the goal I’m always working towards in lessons is freedom. Vocal freedom is not just impressive or useful; it’s beautiful. Not all beautiful singing is perfect singing...but I do believe beauty requires freedom. To paraphrase and adapt Pope John Paul the 2nd, freedom is not in simply doing what we like but having the right to do what we ought. Music requires a spirit of service and in order to render it justice, we need the ability and control to do what we ought, that is, sing freely. This is work that can be done from, shall we say, both ends. When we embrace freedom, when we let go - of inhibition, vocal tension etc - , we discover where we can refine control. And when we focus on that area of control, on the boundaries, the outlines, the specific spaces of our voice, we find the areas where we can work for greater freedom.
Pink, being more badass than I ever will
The incredible thing is how much this work never fails to involve our whole person. The voice is tied to our identities. It reveals so many aspects about ourselves: strengths, vulnerabilities, fears, habits, comforts. It’s truly a space for growing in self-awareness, an opportunity to grow in self-respect. Patience and attentiveness to the tiny differences this or that adjustment makes, whether it’s in posture, diet, or any aspect of one’s warm up routine, is part of the act of love that is art.
Recently, I praised someone while they did a certain section of a piece that was particularly difficult. It wasn’t perfect, but I could hear the improvement, and hear what it would probably sound like given more time and ease. He gave me a rather incredulous look, and said: “I don’t hear what you hear.” I responded that I knew that was the case but that I was positive this was something he could do well.
It struck me later how profound that was because it’s true: we frequently don’t hear what others hear in our voices, or see in ourselves what others see in us. We feel stuck in our physical limitations, weighed down by our stress, our past; however, sometimes it is simply being seen and heard by someone else, a witness, that begins our steps into new awareness, and freedom. The witness shines a light on the “yes” spoken by the person who has chosen to make themselves vulnerable. He or she echoes back this yes, and makes it easier for the other person to choose to say “yes” again.
It’s a precious space to share and I'm grateful for it.
