You can sing?

     It's been a while. Apologies. Today I want to discuss something every artist, in all of art's many forms, is familiar with. There's a cliche that floats around society whether it be in movies or from your 89-year-old grandmother as she smokes her nineteenth cigarette of the morning; you never stop learning. She says as she puffs a whirlwind of smoke into your poor unsuspecting eyes. But she's right, and it's a phenomenon that never ceases to amaze me. Every artist everywhere discovers new techniques, skill, and talent that many of them never knew they had everyday. I remember the day it was discovered that I "could sing".
     I had always had a hankering to do theater since elementary school and although I was a shy kid, something about art and the overall concept of creative freedom drew me in like a middle-aged, unwed, sociopath to a pack of street cats. I had done the occasional form of performing here and there. Church Christmas Pageants, elementary school talent shows, you know, the simple stuff. But I think that was the kick in the pants I needed to shove my sorry ass into theater my Freshman year. Now as I'm sure many of you know, the theater clique in high school tends to be a tight one. Many of the outcasts of the school can get sucked into the drama of it all, if you will, and begin throwing up walls to keep the unwanted out.
     Don't knock on me for speaking the truth ya'll. (<--- Spell check says that's wrong. Meh.) Anyways, as my story goes, I managed to weasel my way into the circle of friends that was the high school theater department. It was nice. I had a group in middle school, but this was different. Not only were we all friends, but we all loved doing the same thing. I could sit in a group of kids and talk about Shakespeare or Ethel Merman and not get an incriminating stare like I had just professed my ability to chew steel like it was gum. It was quite a nice luxury. So naturally, I switched my classes around to take Musical Theater the next term. All my friends would be there. Why not?
     We were doing The Wizard of Oz. I know what you're doing. I can hear you groan through my computer. But I didn't care. I didn't know I had any musical ability beyond the clarinet so, it was whatever. I was only doing for the sake of doing it. So the musical rehearsed. I was the understudy for the Scarecrow, and I could care less. I had a strong misunderstanding of musicals at this point in time. Don't judge. Somewhere along this path, I saw my first professional musical in Los Angeles. Wicked. Bum bum bum bum bum! I know it's a little predictable but this was the show that full on hurled me head over heels in love with musical theater. It was magical. I came to learn that every year after the spring musical closed, since there were a few weeks left of school, we did a musical theater showcase of sorts. Everyone collaborated with our pianist to sing duets or solos of sorts for an audience of parents, teachers, and friends. (I feel the need to express how this whole project at the end of the year, is completely backwards from what it sounds. Totally unglamorous and disjointed. No glory whatsoever.)
     Having just seen Wicked, me and my Glinda decided to sing As Long As Your Mine. I was nervous beyond belief. I had never sung alone in front of an audience. Just the thought of it supplied my heart with a jackhammer to attempt to pierce my sternum. We discussed our blocking in hopes of making it as close a replica to the show as we could. Everything from what we would wear to using a big green book as her magic book of spells. Once that was sorted out, the rehearsing began. I was nervous, so of course I was timid. But eventually our pianist coaxed some volume out of me and I began actually singing. We finished running through my part and I'll never forget what my pianist and duet partner said to me.
     "You can sing?"
     "Yeah, why would you hide that from people?"
     I didn't know! Nobody told me! I just assumed this was something you knew straight out of the womb. Like your hair color, or your sexuality, easy stuff like that. It never occurred to me that you had to actually sing to know if you could sing or not. What a concept! And that's how this whole obsession began. The point of this all is that I may have had some initial talent or potential, but I wasn't amazing. I've grown leaps and bounds since that day, and when I think back to it all, it amazes me. I've never had a voice lesson and know everything I do from doing my best imitation of a sponge as I can. I just try to soak up all the info I can.
     Artists are special people. We learn by all but tasting and that's not to say if there was a way we wouldn't. Everyone from beginners to professionals grows in ways beyond human comprehension everyday. My little brother wanted me to teach him the piano, so I started with the basics. A C scale. A month later he's got it down and is trying on his own to work up to different, harder scales. My best friend is beginning to land lead roles in her high school theater productions. She just played Anita in West Side Story and I couldn't be prouder. Maybe she's not the best dancer or something, but she does something that is a rarity amongst high school performers; she can act while she does everything else. Act and sing. Act and dance. That's a feat.
    Someone more recognizable, Sutton Foster, has blown me away. The Anything Goes revival is hitting Broadway and between listening to that and her albums, I can hear the skills she's learned since tearing up the stage in Millie. She's begun controlling her vibrato and tapping into her soprano voice. All of this is simple proof that no matter who you are, where you've started, and what experience you have, you can always learn. There's always something better out there and if you truly love art, whether it be creating it or observing it, you have the strength to grasp it.

~Just Another Proudly Starving Actor