Last semester I had the revelation that great singing does not come easily. Until my December jury, I assumed that success was bestowed upon a select group of talented individuals of which I was, of course, the queen. After a Christmas break’s worth of humble reflection, I firmly decided to change my attitude and get my hands dirty, so to speak. Now that it is May and I am metaphorically wiping off my hands and nursing the calluses, I wonder if my work has made as much of an impact on my voice as it has on my heart. Regardless, I’m starting to understand what happens after a revelation.

My life is clearly mapped with skyrocketing peaks and abysmal valleys. I’ve had many “camp highs” and am well acquainted with the feelings of ecstasy during and immediately following a positive revelation. I am also familiar with the looming depression that comes when I realize that my realization was too lofty or unattainable. It is exhausting. Because singing is something that has become quite important to both my present happiness and future endeavors, I decided to fight my emotional tendencies after receiving my embarrassing jury grade. For the record, I believe my low marks were well deserved, and I am grateful for the wake-up call that I desperately needed. The theme of my semester, therefore, became consistency.

Consistency is tricky. It is easy for me to rally strong emotions for a short period, or muscle through a tough time when I know it will end soon. Daily, self-disciplined consistency, however, has been almost completely foreign to me. In high school, my parents strongly encouraged me to daily spend time alone in quiet reflection, prayer, and study of the Bible. I did this faithfully, but when I arrived at college the habit faded. This lack of constancy affected many other areas of my life, I think. I have since then had a hard time going to all my classes, returning phone calls, maintaining relationships, and sustaining any real growth. My voice has not been exempt to this pattern. Combined with my pattern of inconsistency, the realization that I was (am) in need of constant hard work seemed overwhelming.

But what could I do? Not delve into depression, because that would be giving into exactly what I loathed. Though I did often struggle with the temptation to despair, I purposed not to. It was one of the hardest semesters yet, but oh, how I have grown. Looking back, I am amused at how complicatedly simple are the answers to life’s befuddlements.

Strauss’s Wasserrose has really been the key piece to teach me the beginnings of consistency and hard work. The “melody” is complex and non-repetitive. The accompaniment, while creating an exquisite underbelly of picturesque harmony, is completely unhelpful to the singer. Each line of text stretches for miles, and I found it difficult to keep the line moving over several pages. The German poetry, while lovely, is wordy; many phrases contain several alliterations. It took Justin and I hours of rehearsal to learn the notes, and many more to synchronize our parts. I was strengthened by his encouragement and labor, and owe most of the piece’s success to him. Though I have much more work to pour into it, I now love to sing Wasserrose. It is impossible to perform without powerhouse breath support, feather light jaw action, and a constant “ping” from the core.

My other songs, though I mostly enjoyed them, did not reveal to me anything outstanding. And really, I think that that is the foundation of true consistency. Day-to-day toil, labor, and faithfulness are not dazzling or revolutionary; rather, they quietly build up the spirit, soul, and body so that they are ready at any time for a performance. Perhaps the mark of an excellent musician is hidden in his or her work ethic. Talent and technique are obviously important, but are irrelevant if not honed by faithful discipline. I hope that my voice reflects the growth that my heart has undergone. I am here to study voice, after all. I am excited about next year’s opportunities: opera, auditions, coaching, recital, etc. I am also glad that this school year is over! Bring on the Louvre, the wine, and the sunshine!