Dear Mother,

I’m working through things in the voice, been getting better with my vowels and placement, and working on opening up the pharynx. In the meanwhile, my sound is very forward often, but when I plug my nose it doesn’t change (nor do I feel anything), so while it may sound nasal it isn’t directly in my nose. However, the school I’m at has teachers constantly leaving me comments that I’m nasal, “your placement is nasal,” “you are in your nose,” “do you even record yourself and listen back?”

None of these teachers have time to help, they’re just required to comment, and I’m not in any position to explain that I’ve been working on this but I wanted to correct my over-darkening first (they seem to prefer over-darkening).

So my question is, how do I manage in the meantime? I know I’ll improve and get better and one day not sound nasal (and they’ll be smug about it thinking they helped), but for the time being I’m rather shot. Seems like they don’t like my voice at all anymore and are less interested in giving me additional opportunities.

-Concerned Student

Dear Concerned Student,

I want to affirm that, based on what you’ve written, it sounds like you are managing this well. You’re taking the feedback you’re hearing into consideration and working to adjust your singing accordingly. A career in singing means constantly hearing people’s opinions on what you’re doing wrong and what you’re doing right. By definition, developing your voice means interacting with the critical feedback of those who hear it. Your role is to see the patterns, think and listen critically, and continue developing your practice in collaboration with a technician you trust.

I think you’ve actually hit the nail on the head with your observation that the authorities at your school are just “required to comment.” Whether or not they’re correct in the feedback doesn’t change the fact that their job is to judge, which means that it’s likely their opinion is, in a sense, dispassionate. You — as I think you’ve demonstrated in your letter — must be the passionate one.

This case is the kind of thing you will run up against again: people are saying the same things to you. Part of your process of discernment is evaluating whether or not that pattern matters to you. In this instance (and, I think, correctly so), you’ve decided that it does. You would prefer not to sing nasally. You’ve also articulated a kind of hierarchy in your approach to study that seems to you incongruous with their priorities. This kind of thinking is wise, I believe. It is a good instinct to be skeptical of the opinions of people who you observe not to share your values.

I would suggest, then, that the next rung of your discernment should be listening to singers, reading up about nasality in singing, and comparing honestly the sounds you hear with your own sound. There may be some apparent differences, and learning to identify them will help build the sonic vocabulary you can draw from when you are correcting the issue. The clarity of vowels will be your guide in your own singing. In other words, a nasal [a] does not sound as clear as a non-nasal [a]. You have to train your listening to hear this difference, which may seem slight until — after patience and focused listening — it no longer does.

Technically speaking, nasality and apparent nasality occur when the pharynx is not spacious enough. Apparent nasality may be an important concept for you to think about in your approach, since you cite specifically not feeling a vibration or a change when you plug your nose. The voice can often sound nasal even if that is not the literal problem, and the cause is essentially the same: some sort of constriction in the pharynx dampening the acoustic potential of the sound. If you do not have a relationship with a voice technician you trust, it may be time for you to consider seeking that out more actively. If that voice is not present within your intuition, you may need to look elsewhere.

To conclude, I think it’s essential to set expectations with yourself about your vocal development that have a longer trajectory than the time you spend in school. The demands of the academy are frequently incongruent with the pace of the developing voice. Moreover, as soon as you cultivate a sound that, to any voices of mentorship or authority, is sufficiently non-nasal, there will be yet another bar to clear. The nature of learning to sing is not hitting all of the targets. Instead, you must acknowledge that each time you hit one, it moves further away. Your goal as the singer should be to cultivate the integrity and authority to be the one ultimately in charge of moving the target around.

Love, Mother

I’m back from my luxurious vacation visiting Santa Fe Opera. If you want to pepper me with further questions, you can submit them here:

Tell mother your troubles

Dear Mother,

I recently found out that a colleague on an upcoming contract is being paid substantially less than me for the exact same work. (Without saying too much about either of us, this is not an issue of gender/race/any other minoritized identity, nor voice part; the reasoning is unclear). The contracts are already signed. This has never happened to me and I’m kind of at a loss as to what I can do. Do you have any advice on approaching such a situation?

-Anonymous

My dear,

In situations like this, your first responsibility is to the other singer. I don’t know how you found this information, but if you have not shared it with the other singer, I would encourage you to do so immediately. Pay discrepancies like the one you describe are much easier for companies to get away with when there is no friction, and the friction they often depend on is the friction of information sharing between colleagues.1

Beyond telling the other singer, I think your specific role in this situation is to support them in whatever actions they want to take. That support could look like helping them understand their employee rights, the terms of their contract, and/or the most effective pathways — and potential risks — of escalating the concern within the company.2 I advise you, first and foremost, to take your cues from your colleague and let them know you want to support them. They should be the ones to determine what that support looks like.

In terms of what the other singer should do, I think that’s going to depend on a lot of factors. The labor protection and organizing circumstances are going to look different if you’re writing from the US or somewhere else in the world, if it’s an AGMA contract or not, if the other singer is managed or not, etc. If you’re in the United States, discussing wages is protected by the National Labor Relations Act. A company cannot take action against an employee for discussing their pay relative to other singers, so it would be fully within the singer’s rights to discuss their pay with the company. There is no cogent mechanism for protection, however, against what might be the singer’s primary fear: that the company would refrain from hiring them back after they’ve advocated for a pay increase.

The specific consideration of whether or not the singer wants to work with that company in the future is one I would encourage you to prompt the other singer to think about. It may well be that they don’t want to work for that company again, anyway, in which case there may not be a lot at stake for them personally in escalating their concern directly to the administration. If they do want to continue working for that company, they could still present their concern to the administration professionally, but they may also find it more advantageous to sit on the current issue in order to negotiate their next contract with the company more aggressively.3 Whether there is a channel for direct escalation of this concern may depend heavily on the singer’s overall standing with the company and on whether the administration is accessible and supportive of singers generally.

Some other considerations: if the other singer has representation, I would encourage them to escalate the pay discrepancy to their agent to be sure that they are advocating well during initial contract negotiations. If this is an AGMA contract, they could also contact their AGMA staff representative to discuss recourse options. (I'm sure my readers may also have suggestions, which I welcome in the comments on this column.)

Finally, I know you mention in your letter that this is not a clear case of discrimination. However, I would encourage you and the other singer to consider that instances of employees not pushing back about unequal wages are a benefit to employers. Research supports the fact that the absence of employee friction regarding non-discriminatory pay discrepancies can develop cultures where wage discrimination is more likely to occur.4 Even if this is not a discriminatory situation, repeated instances of employers going unchallenged for non-discriminatory pay discrepancies may well obscure and protect discriminatory ones down the line. In other words, if your colleague can afford to be a squeaky wheel, they may help send a message to the company that discrepancies like these are wrong and lessen the overall likelihood that discrimination will occur in the future.

Love, Mother

I know there are likely singers reading this who have more direct experience with situations like the one described. Weigh in! Let me know if you have any other thoughts on how situations like this need to be navigated.

And, as always, ask mother a question here:

Tell Mother Your Troubles

Dear Mother,

How do you reconcile current aesthetics and actively trying to find work, while knowing that the current aesthetics are not rooted in theatrical singing traditions that actually project?

How do we change hearts and minds? Should we even try?

-M

Dear M,

Reading your letter immediately brings to mind Lilli Lehmann’s statement about why conductors never bothered her when she sang, correctly, appoggiaturas in Mozart and Beethoven. She wrote, “The authority of my knowledge was my protection.”1 In many ways, this is the clearest and simplest answer to the multiple threads of your question. Let’s pull on the threads separately, though, starting by building a base of knowledge about the word "project."

For me, advocating for a more traditional approach to singing is not about singing louder; it is about singing more freely. The real difference, as I teach it, between a more traditional, Italianate approach to singing and a contemporary approach is the cultivation of sounds that are released and clear rather than forceful or restricted. Typically, those kinds of sounds project well. But, as history and tradition would suggest, we must distinguish projection from loudness.

Consider that even before the ability to amplify sound,2 composers wrote vocal phrases to be sung piano. Many of those phrases were still intended to carry over orchestras. It is, then, too simplistic to understand singing piano, according to operatic tradition, as merely singing quietly. The person farthest away in the audience should be able to hear your pianissimo as a fully formed sound and also understand that it is meant to sound quiet.3

This is the concept of projection. In a world without microphones, the singer developed their voice to project any pitch, on any vowel, at any dynamic, at any point in the range reliably and, crucially, with ease. Ease was essential because projection was essential. The singer had to be heard purely because of the way they produced their voice, so they had to cultivate it to release without forcing.4

Whereas it was a fundamental necessity that students, before amplification, cultivate the acoustic viability of their singing, now it is often the norm for the singer to develop their approach solely for whatever room (usually small) they are trained in. Singing is now generally trained to be heard up close and often tailored by coaches who lack the acoustic knowledge to conceptualize what they hear in front of them from farther away. Many contemporary teachers of singing increasingly favor strength-based muscular approaches to being heard, which seem to apply primarily to moments of forte singing.5 They wrongly assume that a voice’s audibility is determined by the singer’s physical strength. This change in popular pedagogy has worked directly at odds with preserving the theatrical and acoustic tradition of projecting the voice, diminishing the average singer’s ability to sing with ease (or even to believe it is possible). Concerns regarding audibility are now generally reserved for the end of the process, when whatever sounds were cultivated in the small room are transferred to the larger one, where they suddenly cannot be heard. And it is at this juncture, for this exact reason, that singers habituate pushing. If there is no awareness of clear, easy projection in the development of the voice, the singer with trouble being heard at performance time has no recourse but to over-exert themselves.

Navigating the industry with this frame of reference necessitates building the kind of authoritative knowledge Lehmann wrote of. It means understanding what the traditions you are building your singing around actually mean and speaking clearly about them. There is a lot of overlap between the principles of traditional, theatrical singing and what opera folks who aren’t as well-versed in them tend to say they value. Garcia stated that the principal qualities of a good tone are “perfect intonation, steadiness of sound, and beauty of timbre,” calling them the “tripod of voice production.”6 Looking around and surveying the state of contemporary singing on major stages may easily persuade us that this tripod has collapsed, but I’d be willing to wager that if we asked opera professionals with whom we disagree directly if they value those things — intonation, steadiness, beauty — they will say yes. I think there is a lot of unexplored opportunity for those of us who invest in vocal development outside the contemporary norm to expose the shared values between those inside it and the great singers and teachers of the past.7

Beyond understanding and spreading knowledge about the tradition, though, you must endeavor to be the authority in your own singing. Your role is to possess sharpness of intention, consistency of execution, and unparalleled knowledge of how your singing sounds in any acoustic environment. You cannot do this if you are not honest with yourself about where you have room left to grow. That humility is a cornerstone of knowledge.

It is essential to distinguish between the ignorance of the person criticizing you and an actual problem with your singing that needs addressing. There is nothing more insufferable to me than a singer with serious technical flaws complaining about how bad everyone’s taste is anytime they get a note. Often, the feedback you hear correctly identifies areas of weakness in your singing, even if the solutions offered are incorrect. A conductor whose issue is that you are singing too loudly may well be a hack who will be frustrated later in the process by how you can’t be heard when the orchestra shows up; or, they may be identifying a rigidity and inflexibility in your singing which you should address. Part of being an authority on your own singing is having the groundedness and competency to tell the difference.

So, to return to Lehmann. “The authority of my knowledge was my protection.” She wass certainly right that authoritative knowledge about who you are and how you sing is the only way to change hearts and minds, but the hardest truth of all is that it isn‘t going to work on everyone. You are the only one who can answer the question about your capacity to tolerate friction in the job market, but one other thing is also true. You could bend over backward implementing everything you’re told about your singing and still experience friction. The industry is built to say no to singers. There are more singers than jobs, and that is a punishing reality. It is all too easy to internalize anything that goes wrong as an indictment of your approach, but it is not that simple. You cannot control anyone’s reaction to you, no matter your level of competency.

Another source of knowledge that gives me hope and keeps me steady is the knowledge I can glean from the singers I work with and the opera professionals I know who share my values. You might answer your own questions in new ways if you extend your own private study to include connections with other singers engaged in practices similar to your own. They’re out there! They’re working, trying to sing better, dealing with rejection and disappointment, celebrating successes, too. They’re also, in their own ways, thinking about these kinds of questions! Engage them.

Changing hearts and minds will look different for everyone, and not everyone will be convinced. But your singing is the only thing over which you actually have control, and building its integrity and resiliency is the only way to win people over. And, in any event, investing in a practice that cultivates projection, if done well, means you will sing more and more freely.

Love, Mother

I still have lots of submissions I’m wading through for the next several weeks, but write me a letter! I’d love to speak to whatever you’re wondering! Hearty reminder that I also LOVE responding to questions that have nothing to do with singing, too (as I did last column).

Submit your letters to me here:

Tell Mother your troubles

Mother,

I have a bit of a strange question for you.

In terms of love, care, giving, nurturing, activities, and all the like, I have a very impressive resume. To put simply, I’d make an excellent partner. I have also filled up my days with numerous accomplishments, various hobbies, and all sorts of interesting elements.

And due to this, every date I’ve ever been on always results in the other person becoming infatuated with their own curiosities about me. “You’re so interesting,” “I’m so intrigued,'“ “How do you do it all?”

In return, I’ve found myself bored with most people, not because they necessarily lack anything, but because they are not mentally stimulating. It is tiring when every attempt to give care or love is met with someone who views me like an animal in a very impressive zoo. I’m not understood as the little creature I am, hiding under my blankets. Only ever put on a pedestal (I know, horrible problem to have).

But I want to be held, and I want to hold. I am a yearner at heart, and while I yearn for many things a beautiful relationship is not far from the top of my list. I wish to pour my heart from its overflowing glass into the cup of another. To have them warm my hands in the dead of winter, to stroke their hair as they fall asleep, to be viewed as a complete person rather than a savior or trophy.

Any advice for my deepest secret of a problem? (As I cannot express it in person without coming across arrogant, and I’d rather not.”

-Lonely Lover Boy

Dear LLB,

I want to start by acknowledging the vulnerability at the heart of your letter. You long for mutual, abiding care, for recognition, not of your accomplishments or the things about you that are most interesting, but for your vulnerability. Yearning is beautiful! I love to yearn! It’s one of my favorite activities! Nothin’ like a good yearn sesh! And yet, I think it is crucial to be honest with oneself about how yearning can isolate the yearner. Primarily a meditation on self-interest, yearning is a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy of alienation, in which we remind ourselves — wrapped in reverie — of the distance between us and what we want. It is an alluring and deceptive vacuum, the place we go to convince ourselves that the things we want are so impossibly unattainable to protect ourselves from the risk that accompanies any action we might take to obtain them.

Yearning is, in a way, the anti-vulnerability. Vulnerability necessitates action and risk. If I may challenge you more directly, the kind of abiding love you yearn for, in all its poetry and splendor, takes more curiosity about other people and more patience with them than I think your letter demonstrates.

You begin with a self-appraisal: you’re awesome. You are self-aware about how this comes off. But more than finding you arrogant, I have the impression that the obstacle you point to — potential partners’ focus on your skills and accomplishments — is the product of self-protective behavior. For one thing, you tellingly position your character as both the reason you would make an excellent partner and the reason you don’t have a partner. It’s certainly possible for both of those things to be true, but your responsibility lies in the second part. Perhaps when dating, less focus on yourself and more curiosity about the other person would be wise.

This, of course, brings me to your second concern: no one is mentally stimulating enough. I get it. Personally, I don’t date people I don’t find interesting (at least not anymore).1 But dates are awkward dances. I might invite you to consider that, just as much as you are bringing with you to the encounter all of your wariness about the other person’s ability to satisfy your yearning, they are likely wary about you, too.

Step back and ask yourself whether the things you are seeing in potential partners are the whole truth about what’s actually there. Intimacy grows from trust, which can only be established when both parties feel safe. If you find that the person you are with seems to have a hard time moving on from talking about you, I think it would be a good exercise to consider whether they feel safe expressing themselves around you. If this is something you’re encountering regularly, there might be a reckoning coming for you about how you exist in these dynamics. Mental stimulation necessitates that you are curious, attentive, and patient. Get real with yourself about whether you are bringing these qualities to the table.

Most notably to me, you leap from the lack of mental stimulation immediately to your desire to be known for the vulnerable creature you see yourself as. In her essay, The Sovereignty of Good, novelist and philosopher Iris Murdoch writes, “By opening our eyes we do not necessarily see what confronts us. We are anxiety-ridden animals. Our minds are continually active, fabricating an anxious, usually self-preoccupied, often falsifying veil which partially conceals the world.” 2

I wonder if the part of you hiding under a blanket, to borrow your language, might feel safe to make his presence known if you considered what the blanket actually is. It is not wrong to protect oneself. It is good to caretake the part of you that is averse to risk. But in relationships, you only get back what you put in. And I think, in your case, what is lacking is the quality of your attention to others. In other words, deciding as often as you seem to that the other person isn’t interesting enough keeps you under your blanket.

Murdoch goes on to say,

“Our states of consciousness differ in quality, our fantasies and reveries are not trivial and unimportant, they are profoundly connected with our energies and our ability to choose and act. And if quality of consciousness matters, then anything which alters consciousness in the direction of unselfishness, objectivity, and realism is to be connected with virtue.”3

So how might you alter your consciousness? Perhaps some of your yearning could be redirected. Perhaps the person across from you has something to offer that might take time and attention to uncover. Perhaps, indeed, being recognized for your vulnerability requires you to exhibit it. Ask yourself: Is the way I am showing up contributing to or detracting from the pursuit of my longing? I wish you growth and fulfillment in that pursuit. And, in the meantime, buy a pair of mittens for those cold hands.

Love, Mother

Thank you to this letter writer! I loved answering this. As much as I hope to continue writing about singing and the opera industry (there are many questions in the hopper on these subjects), I very much welcome these kinds of questions. As always, here’s the link if you’d like to submit a letter:

Tell mother your troubles

I’ll be taking next Sunday (July 5) off for Independence Day, but I’ll look forward to resuming the week after.

Dear mother,

Can you expound on the concept of cover in the tenor voice, and how to square that away with the way in which you teach registration for modal voice singing?

I’ve recently found, though listening and vocal exploration, that vowel modification / formant-tuning / resonance-spatial awareness / however you frame the transition from chest to head dominance is far less a mechanical augmentation of the muscles and tissues in the vocal tract than it is a manipulation of the vocal “weight.”

In theory, it’s less a mechanical manipulation of the different individual parts, and more a mental impetus where the locus of control is in the gesture of “what if,” and the resultant sound is less, perhaps, constructed, but definitely more attractive.

So, the question reframed is — in your opinion, is cover more of a gesture of imagining the sound’s trajectory, pressurizing sub-glotally, then releasing the sound into a domed space that is light, supple, and round; or do you find that singers who think through the finesse of head/chest registration discretely in their domains and then blending them out thoroughly afterwards have more success? Put more succinctly: what is it? How do you conceive of it? And do you think of it as separate from your laryngeal exercises, part and parcel, or is there a larger picture I’m leaving out that marries the two.

-jmo, a tenor

Dear jmo,

As your question demonstrates, covering chest notes above the staff is an advanced concept. It requires developing many individual components and integrating them slowly and steadily. Further, proper technical execution of open singing in the other parts of the range contextualizes the development of the covered sound. In short, if covering is a challenge, the technical problems present in the covered sound are very possibly presenting themselves in other places in the voice.

But I’ll be more specific.

In your question, you reference my approach to teaching laryngeal registration for modal voices, which — I would assume — references my focus on developing the falsetto register. For students unfamiliar with this approach, I usually find that developing falsetto as an independent register means deconstructing some misunderstandings about its mechanical and acoustic principles. Habituated compensatory technical actions in the singers’ navigation of the upper extents of the range tend to accompany these misunderstandings.

Singers and teachers often wrongly assume that the “physiological and acoustical discontinuities”1 between falsetto and the lower register are starker than they actually are. Many singers I have worked with, for instance, began our work believing the weakness, breathiness, or strain of their falsetto registers was the natural state of affairs. I’ve had conversations with tenors who have told me that working in falsetto never clicked for them, citing the same technical issues as though they are individual physical limitations. But the truth is, as with any other register of the voice, mechanical deficiencies in phonation can be treated with proper instruction and practice.

Funny enough, these misunderstandings about falsetto date back to some of the earliest treatises on singing. Caccini, for instance, wrote of the falsetto as the voce finta (false voice), characterizing it at various parts of Le nuove musiche as ignoble, dynamically inflexible, and breathy.2 The answer to this problem, of course, would come in its fullest initial form centuries later, when Garcia would observe differences in the quality of glottal closure across the two registers and propose technical strategies to bridge the resulting acoustic discontinuities:

“Q. What is to be done when the falsetto register is veiled, and lets the air escape by a continuous leakage?

“A. The leakage is caused by the lips of the glottis being imperfectly closed. The ring can be obtained with a sharp stroke of the glottis every sound…” 3

Garcia makes clear that functional weaknesses with registers above chest voice can and should be addressed through technical intervention. With singers whose attempts at singing in falsetto yield breathiness or inflexibility, the solution is not to discard the register as useless and build from the opposite direction. It is to clarify and fortify the register through laryngeal development.4

This development cultivates one of the most fundamental principles in all singing: the ability to close the vocal cords elastically. In order for a voice to navigate the extent of its range freely and clearly, the cords must be loose enough to change in length and thickness, all while remaining closed. Coordinating the falsetto for modal voice singers provides the singer an opportunity to experience the sensation, structure, and sound of a full glottal closure in the register where the thinnest possible edge of the vocal cords vibrates and, gradually, to thicken it.

Problems with singing in a chest-dominant mode above the staff usually arise from an inability to fully close the cords without excessive pressure. As such, coordinating the falsetto is an indispensable task for developing the upper range of tenor voices. Sustainable covered sounds emerge from this coordination.

So, then. To your question: what is covering, and how does it fit into this understanding of laryngeal registration?

To “cover” the voice is to close or round the structure of a vowel for the purpose of shifting chest-dominant phonation toward head voice. Structurally, this process requires the larynx to tilt, lengthening and thinning the vocal cords while they remain adducted. Acoustically, proper closure of the glottis produces a bright, incisive tone, and the overall rounding of the pharynx “covers” that tone in an apparent darkness. Sensationally, the resonance resulting from a proper emission and structure feels, for the singer, high in the head.

This process is corrupted when technical insistence on any individual component neglects other components for extended periods. As is the case with so many common mistakes in contemporary unamplified theatrical singing, attention to the quality of the glottal closure and its resulting sounds is frequently ignored, while the structure of the pharynx is presented as a total technical approach in itself rather than a mere (though, undoubtedly, crucial) component of a larger process. When a singer darkens the vowel without maintaining the fundamental brightness of a thinly closed glottis, the sound is — as Garcia would say of an uncoordinated falsetto — “veiled.” To compensate for this veiled quality, the singer often squeezes the cords together to project muscularly, producing a fundamentally dull sound lacking in upper partials that may or may not be all that loud and can be accompanied by vibrato defects.

It must be said that flexible glottal closure, laryngeal tilt, and closed or rounded vowel structures are not components unique to the process of covering high notes. Any inability to close the cords, or tilt the throat, or round the vowel from C3 to F4 is a pressing technical concern in need of intervention with significant implications for the success of singing F#4 and above, covered or not. Likewise, rigidity and excess thickness in the glottal closure must be alleviated in the lower register if one hopes to stretch the extremes of that register.

Which brings me back to falsetto. In his book, Bel Canto: Principles and Practices, Cornelius L. Reid writes:

To relieve the limitations of technique so obvious in the vocal performance of those who use but one register, it becomes necessary to make a persistent effort to reinstate the action of the one normally unused. Vigorous exercise of both registers will then gradually relieve a condition having absolutely nothing to do with the position of the tongue, ‘voice placing,’ ‘nasal resonance,’ the manner of breathing, or any other superficial detail of contemporary instruction that has been permitted to develop into what amounts to a fetish by modern teachers of singing. The problem is entirely one of register development and balance, and can only be successfully dealt with on that basis.5

During a standard lesson with a tenor, I spend ample time on their ability to pronounce clear, released vowels in falsetto, the register “normally unused.” Across the course of study, I will have the student bring their falsetto as low as possible. Depending on the student’s level of technical development, the majority of the lesson will then be spent on yodeling between registers at different intervals and cracking between falsetto and the chest register on single pitches. I help the student try to minimize contrast in the emission between registers. This process is extremely iterative and, across the course of many lessons (not one), becomes a pathway toward developing even and clearly projected chest-dominant sounds — both open and closed/covered — above the staff.

The heart of your question is a dichotomy I find, in certain ways, to be false. You seem to be asking if covering is more the result of a gesture and a mental impetus than a mechanical effort. In performance, the former of those two options must absolutely be the case. Singing is fundamentally a coordinated gesture, the execution of which is — at the end of the day — all impulse. “The voice becomes master,” Lamperti told us.6 Crucially, your question reminds singers that there is little use in understanding the mechanics and approach I’ve described without building a keen sonic awareness of them in your own singing and in others’ and specifically imagining it when you sing.

This mindset is not, however, an alternative to the patient coordination of mechanics — made more successful by developing the registers as clear and distinct mechanics and blending them — which learning to cover requires. “Thought and muscle are schooled until instinct and reaction develop and take command,” Lamperti also counseled, “Then what was arbitrary becomes automatic.”7 I conceive of building this (and any) skill as a back-and-forth between developing the mechanics and the overall gesture, always principally guided by the sound. While developing each of the individual mechanical components — the tilt, the closure, the release, and the resonating sensation/sound — the singer must regularly return to the elemental impulse and test their ability to make the desired sounds spontaneously and with continual release.

Love, Mother

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Tell Mother Your Troubles

Happy Father’s Day! See you all next week. <3

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Mother,

I’ve had so many issues shitting where I eat as an opera singer. As someone in the biz who seems to do this frequently (not trying to clock your tea), is this something you’ve actively avoided, or do you just follow your heart?

Signed, Christopher F.

Dear Christopher,

The phrase "don’t shit where you eat" generally advises against making a mess in an environment central to your livelihood. Colloquially, it advises against romantic or sexual relationships in the workplace.1 The phrase presupposes that inter-collegial canoodling will cause Trouble. This is obvious enough, but I think it would be useful for me to unpack your other phrase, “follow your heart.”

It seems to me that, for you, “following your heart” means acting on your impulses. You pose this as an alternative to avoiding those impulses. I’d like, frankly, to say that my answer is that I follow my heart. But, if I may be so annoying, I think both the instinct to pursue and the instinct to avoid are present in whatever might constitute “my heart,” and I generally aim to integrate them rather than viewing them as opposites.

Let me try to explain:

I don’t perform as much as I used to. I’m rarely on contracts. But when I am, my rational calculus regarding this is simple: I am at work, and so is everyone else. I don’t pursue, hook up with, or date people I am actively working alongside. I endorse this boilerplate policy for you and for all of my readers.

That said, I have absolutely had crushes on my colleagues. I have worked with people I’ve found cute. I have wondered what it might be like to get to know people outside of the rehearsal room. I think it is ignorant for any of us to pretend that in environments where artists are working closely together on a shared project, we can completely dissociate from the parts of ourselves who experience attraction. In fact, I think trying to shame or disarm those parts of ourselves in pursuit of respectability is potentially more dangerous than listening to them and understanding what they want for us.

A hypothetical. Say I’m in a show. I think my castmate is cute. We have charming conversations. I start to notice that I look forward to seeing them when I go to rehearsal. I have a crush.

I am also deeply troubled by this crush. I am hesitant to act on it. Even though I look forward to seeing this person, I may start to avoid them or feel uneasy around them.

It is easy to view this contrast as a fork in the road, but the emotional reality is more complex and simpler. The part of me that is attracted to that person is responding to the aspects of our interactions that make me feel good. It is normal, healthy human behavior to want intimacy, emotionally and physically, with other human beings, especially those who share our interests and artistic practices. On the other end of that, the part of me that is anxious about my feelings is responding to the reality of my context. I am at work, and so is the other person. It is normal, responsible human behavior to be cautious and boundaried, to want to avoid causing harm to our circumstances.

If I suppress my crush by pretending it doesn’t exist or, worse, by shaming myself for having it, it is likely to cause me harm. In shaming or repressing my desire for intimacy, I am likely to feel more isolated; pathologizing a deeply human need could jeopardize my resilience and ability to connect with others. If I suppress what troubles me about my feelings by bottling up my anxiety and acting purely on impulse, it is likely to cause harm to my colleagues. I might cross a boundary with the person I like; I might make my other colleagues uncomfortable; I might even sully the process if things go south and gain a reputation I’d rather not have.

Rather than viewing these feelings as mutually exclusive, the work is to integrate them, to play with a full deck. If I can acknowledge that my wanting and my fear are both legitimate — and that, ultimately, the part that wants and the part that is afraid to want are both trying to meet my needs — I can open an honest, grounded dialogue within myself about how to proceed.

It is possible to satisfy both parts. I can satisfy the crush by continuing to nurture my connection to the person I’m interested in, getting to know them more, and enjoying sharing the artistic process with them. I can satisfy the part of myself that is cautious about causing trouble by being boundaried and respectful in my interactions. Through this integration, I have a much better chance that, when the rehearsal process is over, I’ll be able to sustain my connection to that person and, potentially, yes, evolve it.

Frankly, it would be naïve and dishonest of me to pretend anyone, including me, is capable of this kind of integration in every conceivable instance. I could tell the story of my ending a 3-year-long relationship as a 23-year-old in a pay-to-sing because I had an affair with the music director.2 Do I think that was a bad and unprofessional choice? Absolutely, I do. Do I regret doing it? No, I don’t. It taught me to look further than what was right in front of me at a time when I really needed to learn that. Two things can be true.

I also know that a factor in many of the kinds of situations you’re asking about is limited time, and that in those contexts, crushes or potential situationships can feel quite urgent. To address this and conclude, let me revisit your question in which you insinuate I shit where I eat recklessly and constantly.

I presume you say that because of my ex-partner and voice teacher, James, and my current anchor partner and voice student, Morgan. To be sure, neither relationship began concurrent with professional work. James and I never worked together on a contract, and we were together for three years before he gave me my first voice lesson.3 Morgan and I got to know one another while working on my play, but didn’t start seeing each other until after the process was over. Morgan was also very hesitant to study singing with me at the beginning of our relationship, and it took some time for us to begin working together regularly.4

Something to acknowledge, though, is that the two most impactful and significant romantic partnerships of my life have been with other singers. Because my relationship with James predated any business, any Haus, any rumors or minions (for the uninitiated, that is what I lovingly call my regular students), we were blessed to build our collaboration as teacher and student because we both loved singing and each other. It is one of the greatest blessings of my life that, even though James and I are no longer romantically partnered, he is forever my family. Another of the greatest blessings is that Morgan, who is the most enthusiastic musician I have ever known, reminds me to make music for the sake of loving music — not for any occupational reason — and creates occasion after occasion for us to make music together.5

Both of these relationships took their precious time to develop. After being together for one month, James and I were immediately long-distance for 2 years, an incredibly challenging time, but useful in a way because it forced two impulsive artists to walk instead of run. Morgan and I had known each other as friends and colleagues for two years before we got together. Lots changed across that time (my gender, in particular), but when we started dating, there was already a garden of mutual admiration for us to tend.

And so, my main advice: when eating, take your time to get very clear with yourself about your context before you shit. Understand what’s going on for you somatically, mentally, and emotionally. Consider that the part wanting to take action and the part wanting to avoid problems are not so at odds as you might imagine. What might they share? How might they help inform how you behave, together?

The urgency is an illusion. Breathe.

Love, Mother

I fully anticipate people may have BIG feelings about what I’ve written here. Weigh in on the subscriber chat if you have something to add! I’d love to hear from you. And, if you have a question you’d like me to answer, ask it here:

Tell Mother Your Troubles

Dear mother,

Aside from my voice (and there’s plenty there I’d call troublesome), the biggest thing I run into is valid reasons for gender-swapping casting while knowing it’ll never be taken seriously let alone have actual trans people in casting.

For example, Tosca needs a reason for her jealousy to make sense. Callas used her being older than Corelli as ‘the reason’. Tosca being a doll also serves that purpose.

Salome is self-explanatory. Carmen to justify Don Jose’s obsession. Etc. etc. etc. I’m curious to know what you think about this.

Signed,

A doll

Dear doll,

I’m going to assume based on the context you provided in your question that by “gender-swapping casting,” you really mean performing roles traditionally written for cis women as a trans woman. This, of course, may or may not include performing those same roles transposed down the octave in a tenor or baritone range.1 The question, then, is whether the opera industry will now (or in the future) be willing to engage with trans dramaturgies in the common-practice operatic repertoire.

Obviously, I agree that a number of operatic characters, settings, and plots are fertile for transfeminine subjectivity. I, too, am frustrated at the way our contemporary operatic industry seems unimaginative about those possibilities. Indeed, trans women in opera still seem confined to playing men or — more recently (and, in a limited way, more hopefully) — to playing historical transfeminine characters in operas by cis people. This still strikes me as insufficiently restorative in a climate where singers have been brought up to aspire toward roles from the baroque, classical, romantic, and 20th-century canon. In other words, despite the contemporary opera world’s hesitant, tardy, and unconvincing investment in creating works about transition (not, to be sure, about actually being trans), trans people, specifically trans women, are still almost entirely unwelcome in the operatic archive, which, like it or not, still makes up the majority of operatic programming and education worldwide.

It frustrates me, too, that our opera world has fewer examples of trans women reimagining traditionally cisgender roles than it should. If you look long enough at any of the major operatic heroines, you’ll find a compelling way that she could be interpreted by a trans person with a dramaturgical framework that incorporates transness. A role like Violetta, for instance, is picture-perfect for transfemme reception. A courtesan whose newfound love and security is revoked because her lover’s father refuses to let his son marry such a woman. Hmmmm. Seems workable, right?2

There are countless examples like this across the literature. The enigmatic Mélisande, frightened to tell anyone anything about herself. The cunning and beautiful Countess Almaviva, mournful and jealous that her husband has taken an interest in younger women, plotting to expose the harm he’s done her. Lady Macbeth, vain with greed and ambition, certain she can do what her weak husband will not. The powerful sorceress Alcina, who traps her lovers on an island so that they won’t leave her. Every time I’ve had a conversation with another trans person along these lines, they’ve named other characters and stories I hadn’t thought of.3 Such rich and, in many cases, obvious dramaturgical possibilities to explore.

I also believe trans women should be able to perform these roles in contexts where their transness is not made central to the dramaturgy. It is more damaging than restorative to subject trans women to hierarchical creative processes where the creative teams charged with telling the story are cisgender people making assumptions and projections about transness. In casting trans women to play roles traditionally played by cis women, opera companies must proactively preserve the agency and creative authority of the trans women in the room to avoid cooptative practices that appear to uplift trans voices while harming and silencing the actual trans people involved. They must equally avoid dumping all of the dramaturgical labor onto one trans performer, and instead build robust, dynamic teams of trans artists who can construct meaning and substance collaboratively.

I certainly hope opera won’t forever remain such an unlikely garden for trans art to flourish in. For one thing, if I have my way, I’ll have influence over casting before I leave this world. For another, there are so many trans opera artists who have taken this restorative work into their own artistic practices. The Queen in Me by Teiya Kasahara 笠原貞野 (they/he) comes to mind as a project that attempts to engage and reimagine works from the canon through queer and trans dramaturgical lenses.4 What might it be like for you to imagine and portray some of the characters you mentioned in your question in a piece you devise?

I, for one, want projects like Teiya’s from trans women. I want the show about how “self-explanatory” a t-girl Salome is. I want the show about how Don Jose is obsessed with Carmen cuz she’s a juicy, confident trans woman. I want the transfemme Tosca project about how hard it can be as trans women to trust that the love we receive from our partners is real, lasting, and not endangered.

There are more ways to engage with these stories and characters than getting hired by a company to portray them in a traditional production. And, frankly, alternative approaches will likely give you more agency over how the story is crafted. Make it known to your community that you want to interpret these roles! Do you have people you would trust to talk about the dramaturgical approach with? Writers, other singers, pianists, conductors, et al, whom you could have coffee with to think things through?

I understand it is fatiguing for many trans people to hear a response like this, which, effectively, puts the work back on you. But I also feel I have to say that if you find this kind of exploration and development is not something you see yourself investing time in, I would question whether you could successfully play the characters you’re curious about in a more conventional fully-staged production. Sure, you might not have to do the work of building an entire project around yourself if a casting director placed you at the center of a mainstage show, but the preparation and the path to get there would require much of the same creative and professional/networking labor.

Now, for a bit of tough love. As a voice teacher, I feel I have to wrap back around to the first part of your question, in which you wave away the problems you feel you have with your voice. There’s one thing you fail to mention about the justification for Callas playing Tosca: she could sing the ever-loving hell out of the score. If, ultimately, you want an opera company to hire you to sing a role like this — whether or not your particular case means you would transpose it down the octave — you must address whatever is “troublesome” for you vocally. As discussed, it is rare for a company to consider a transfeminine reception of one of these characters. Rarer still, I would bet, is it for a company to consider casting a trans lead who can’t sing the role.

For me, “aside from my voice…” is the precise opposite of how anyone who desires to sing great roles like Tosca, Salome, or Carmen should think! The voice is the very first thing to think of! The preeminent thing! It is, in fact, the only thing within your direct sphere of influence. And how satisfying it would be to bring your skills closer to the point where you could be satisfied and proud of how well you can sing the things you want to.

If, at present, you do not love singing enough to do it when you aren’t getting hired to do it, I absolutely understand that feeling. But I encourage you, and anyone, to try to lean toward that love. The muscles of loving the learning, loving the practice, loving the lessons, loving the study, loving the listening, loving the imagining — all these can be strengthened through patience and repetition. And, while I will go on the record saying opera companies should seriously engage with the practice of hiring trans women to play roles written for cis women — even if it means performing roles in transposition — I also feel it is up to us as artists to build and showcase our vocal and artistic abilities to sing those roles.

It’s easy to get discouraged by the seeming lack of vision of our current industry, which increasingly seems to view men in drag at the opera house as the be-all end-all of queer representation. But the good news is there is actually quite a lot you can do to take back your agency and build strength. Get better at singing! Learn the roles and arias you’re curious about! Program them if you can! Practice them! Record yourself! Sing them for your friends at parties! Build unique and personal creative visions around them! Learn to articulate and demonstrate exactly what it is you can bring to the role! I really do believe that if more trans people embark on these kinds of journeys, we can shift the already trembling tide.

Love, Mother

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First, it was The Scale: a humble project dedicated to practicing writing for an audience, period (still available in the backlogs, if you’re curious). That effort got me writing in general and ultimately led to The Smallest Sound, in the Smallest Space. Then it was The Bryce is Wrong, a newsletter of sorts centered on pop culture recommendations, which I mostly wrote from my desk job to keep myself from crumbling under the weight of its mundanity. There was the era of Beyond Travesti, an interview series with trans and gender-expansive opera and classical music professionals, which I am still immensely proud of. A brief foray with the title Themenine Mystique, which I stole from a friend, saw precisely zero published articles because it coincided with my leaving my desk job, starting a voice studio, and, over the course of one year, systematically building an international studio of more than 100 professional and emerging classical singers. And also, surprise, I figured out I’m not non-binary after all, and if you call me “them,” I’ll hex you. Now, I’ve settled on the title — much better and much truer — The Bryce is Right.

The next phase is something I’ve long dreamed of doing, across all the previous iterations. I’ve whispered it in private to friends and loved ones, but have always been afraid to start it for fear (justified if you examine my history with blogging) that I wouldn’t be able to do it well and consistently. But now, with my career more stable and satisfying than ever before, and my writing practice returned to a constant hum,1 I am proud to announce The Bryce is Right’s new Sunday advice column, Mother Knows Best.

I have been thinking for some time about what kind of contribution to make to this space, so populated by writers I respect and who do excellent work. Justin Peterson’s blog, A Voice Teacher’s Chrestomathy, is all-hits-no-skips brilliance, and I can’t recommend it enough to singers who read (as all should!). But I really don’t think I can do what Justin does.

A Voice Teacher's Chrestomathy

Welcome to a vibrant journey through the world of singing and voice teaching, a treasure trove of insights blending tradition with innovation. Dive into a realm where the timeless art of vocal mastery meets practical wisdom for today's lovers of song.

By Justin Jørgen Petersen

People who have followed my career will know I have periodically asked whether my audience would engage with my reflections on singing, artistic practice, creative growth, learning, teaching, et al. Each time I ask, I receive overwhelming encouragement. But as a writer in this medium, I want to interact more directly with an audience. I’m a playwright first; I crave dialogue.

So. Every Sunday starting on June 7, I will answer in long(ish)-form writing a reader-submitted question. I already have the question — a rather in-depth question submitted via my Instagram NGL a few months ago — for my first week, but I’m all ears for the following weeks. Please use this form to submit your questions.

Tell Mother Your Troubles

Teaching voice is a fascinating enterprise. There exists a continuum between technical and psychological development. For me — the hyper-emotional child of an actor/librarian and a pastor — one of the gifts I bring to my educational role is a keen awareness of and curiosity about the mindset of the student: what is happening somatically, emotionally, mentally for a singer and how is it manifesting in their execution (or trouble executing) a vocalise or phrase. For me, that is the work of teaching voice, as much as any direct, technical adjustment.

That said, I often have to set the boundary for students that the types of conversations they want to have are better suited to a therapist than to a voice teacher. I have encouraged — with great success! — many students to seek out therapy if they do not already, and, if they do, to speak about their singing and their relationship to themselves as singers with their therapy professionals. While this column should not, under any circumstances, be a replacement for therapy for any of my students and readers, I hope to open a space for singers and creatives to ask the kinds of questions there isn’t time for in voice lessons, to go deeper and be vulnerable, to seek to push on assumptions, and to challenge me and my thinking in the process.

Also, not for nothing, the questions do not only have to be about singing!!!!!! You can ask me for dating advice!!!!! You can ask me for my advice on how to deal with a friendship that’s gone sour!!!! The vision is the trans Dear Abby of our time!!!!! Get with it!

I encourage anonymous submissions if they feel most helpful, though if you want to put your name to what you write, by all means do so.

This shift has been percolating for months. There have been multiple false starts. One complication — not insignificant — is that my domestic partner and I will be co-working for much of the day both as voice teachers. That’s a whole lot of noise and a whole lot of bandwidth for our wifi. And it’s going to take a whole lot of patience from both parties, so pray for us if you’re the praying type.

The most significant piece of this change for me is that for the first time since 2017 I will not be occupied with both a work life and a creative practice. I will no longer be burdened with 70-80 hour work weeks. I will no longer be hopping onto voice lessons after full days at the office. I will no longer be choosing between taking time to write in the morning and making sure I’m able to eat something before dashing to the train.

I am extremely proud of myself for how I have worked for so long to build this career I would not have imagined for myself even two years ago.

With this shift will come some other exciting changes. Beyond Travesti has been on hold for a couple of months because of how spread thin I have become between work and teaching. I’m excited to resume my production schedule and release a live session I did earlier this year with composer, LJ White. LJ’s exceptional EP, Songs from “The Best Place for This” is available to stream via BandCamp, and other platforms. I definitely recommend you take a listen. Following that release, I have interviews planned with singer and ChamberQueer co-founder Danielle Buonaiuto, and conductor Alexandra Enyart.

I will also be able to resume my own performance practice, further developing my solo project The Eyes of Texas (performed twice this year at The Vino Theater in Williamsburg), and I will continue research and development for a new project based on the life and legacy of the great singer, Maria Malibran. I am also thrilled to have the energy and time to continue championing the development of The Smallest Sound, in the Smallest Space, which had a successful reading at Lincoln Center earlier this year.

For those who may be interested, I am currently accepting new students, though my studio is relatively full. Information on booking lessons can be found on my website.

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I promise to write more, once I clear this final stretch of office drudgery. Love to all.

Release Date: July 24, 2024

Recording Date: June 17, 2024

Name of Podcast: Beyond Travesti

Episode Title & Number: Heather Jones, Season 2, Episode 1

Topic #1: Experimenting with identity through theater [4:00]

Topic #2: As One and navigating transness in opera and classical music spaces [11:00]

Topic #3: Being trans in church spaces and Expostulation(s) of Mary [19:30]

Topic #4: The ideal Heather project, and One Body [26:50]

Read Episode Transcript here.

Opera Modo - TNBGD Directory Submission

Follow Heather on Instagram @hbeejay

Follow Bryce @the.bryce.is_wrong

Follow Beyond Travesti @beyondtravesti

Sign up for The Bryce is Wrong via Substack.

Become a paid subscriber at any level to The Bryce is Wrong and get access to an extended cut of this conversation. Get in contact with Bryce with listener questions or feedback at brycemcclendon@substack.com

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Release Date: May 11, 2024

Recording Date: April 12, 2024

Name of Podcast: Beyond Travesti

Episode Title & Number: Teiya Kasahara 笠原貞野, Season 2, Episode 1

Topic #1: Reimagining repertoire for yourself, and The Queen in Me [8:30]

Topic #2: Disruption in the opera space [13:05]

Topic #3: Personal inquiry, Puccini, Japan, and The Butterfly Project [20:45]

Topic #4: Teiya’s upcoming projects - Project T [28:05]

Read Episode Transcript here.

Opera Modo - TNBGD Directory Submission

Teiya’s website
Teiya’s Instagram - @teiyakashara

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I know, I know, I know. It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything here. I’m sorry. Things come and go in seasons. I decided to take a short break from updates here during my season break from Beyond Travesti, but I’m coming back. And so is Beyond Travesti.

I’m excited to launch Season 2, Episode 1 on May 1 with my brilliant guest, Teiya Kasahara 笠原 貞野.

Nikkei Canadian settler Teiya Kasahara is a queer, trans non-binary opera singer and interdisciplinary theater creator based in Tkarón:to1, (or colonially known as Toronto, Canada). They come from a background of singing both operatic and concert roles across Turtle Island and Europe such as as Mozart’s Queen of the Night, Madame Butterfly, and the soprano solos in Beethoven’s 9th Symphony and Verdi’s Requiem. They have also premiered new roles like Solana in When the Sun Comes Out and the title role in Silence set to premiere in 2025 with Nuova Arts.

Teiya’s critically acclaimed operatic-play The Queen In Me recently had a sold-out run at Ottawa’s National Arts Centre, and has played at the Belfast International Festival, Meridian Arts Centre in Ontario, and the Canadian Opera Company. They were joined by their collaborative pianist, David Eliakis, with whom they will perform a queer-retelling of Schumann’s Dictherliebe later in Toronto this season, and embark on a autobiographical performance and recording series entitled Project [ T ] which set to launch at ChamberQueer’s festival in New York this summer. 

Teiya is also a co-founder of Amplified Opera and a long-time collaborator with re:Naissance Opera.

Look out for that episode soon. I’ll post the full conversation behind a paywall here, and the limited release will go out to Apple Podcasts and Spotify in May!

I’ve been writing and memorizing the beginnings of a solo project, provisionally titled The Eyes of Texas, which I’ll be performing twice at The Vino Theater in East Williamsburg as part of an evening of short new plays, including work by writers Veda Kumarjiguda, Brynn Owen, and Shelley Brooks. This is a trial run for me. I’ve been thinking about writing work for myself to perform for some time, and I am finally giving it a go! Looking forward, and I hope if you’re in the area you will come on either May 8 or May 13.

The Smallest Sound, in the Smallest Space will have a one-night-only staged reading at Lincoln Center’s Clark Studio Theatre on May 29 at 8pm, directed by Katy Early and starring much of the original cast! The script has gone through a ton of development since the workshop premiere last March at the cell theatre, and I hope this reading will be the catalyst for its continued life. Ticketing information will be released soon, and I’ll update here if you would like to attend. In the meantime, if you attended the performance last March and would like to provide feedback to help us develop our pitch deck and marketing materials, please fill out this audience feedback survey!

I have also been teaching a TON of voice lessons so far this year. I’m grateful to have so many talented and dedicated singers joining my studio. It is a gift to provide the kind of space for singers that I so rarely was given during my training: a space where it is okay not to understand something, where it is okay to move slowly, and where it is GOOD to make messy sounds in order to build balanced ones. If you’re interested in scheduling a lesson, please check out my Calendly!

Last but not least, the Trans, Non-binary, and Gender-Diverse Opera and Classical Voice Professionals Directory has launched and is growing! Our effort was featured in OperaWire (and received some disturbing, if unsurprising, anti-trans hate on their corresponding facebook post — thanks to all those who pushed back), and we are excited to keep growing it and partnering with organizations to increase its visibility and strength! Please submit if you’d like to be included. And I have to shout out my incredible colleagues Katherine Goforth, Danielle Wright, Dorian Block, and Kim Mendez for their combined efforts getting this valuable resource off the ground.

Submit to the TNBGD Directory

Till next time, loves!

-

B

Release Date: January 1, 2024

Recording Date: December 19, 2023

Name of Podcast: Beyond Travesti

Episode Title & Number: Elijah McCormack, Season 1, Episode 5

Topic #1: Elijah’s introduction to classical singing [4:30]

Topic #2: Singing concert & oratorio while trans [7:30]

Topic #3: ChamberQueer’s 2023 Tour & Workshop at Early Music America [14:30]

Topic #4: The legacy of the castrati [20:00]

Read Episode Transcript here.

Opera Modo - TNBGD Directory Submission

Elijah’s website

Follow Elijah on Instagram

ChamberQueer

What the heck are the castrati?

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Release Date: December 4, 2023

Recording Date: November 18, 2023

Name of Podcast: Beyond Travesti

Episode Title & Number: Jay St. Flono, Season 1, Episode 4

Topic #1: Jay’s intro to classical singing and identity as a multi-disciplinary artist [3:30]

Topic #2: Jay’s shift from tenor to soprano [7:00]

Topic #3: Magic, Folklore, and Praise Song for the Flying Africans [23:50]

Read Episode Transcript here.

Buy Jay’s Book, Black American Magic: A Feast of Food and Folklore

Sugar Hill Salon

The Flying Africans of Igbo Landing

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Become a paid subscriber at any level to The Bryce is Wrong and get access to an extended cut of this conversation. Get in contact with Bryce with listener questions or feedback at brycemcclendon@substack.com

Release Date: November 1, 2023

Recording Date: October 6, 2023

Name of Podcast: Beyond Travesti

Episode Title & Number: Dorian Block, Season 1, Episode 3

Updates: [2:25]

Topic #1: Dorian’s Intro to Opera [6:25]

Topic #2: Traveling for work as a transgender person [13:10]

Topic #3: Equity, Diversity, Inclusion, Access and Belonging [22:51]

Topic #4: Community Engagement [28:13]

Read Episode Transcript here.

Dorian Block's website

Santa Fe Opera Documentary, The Pueblo Opera Project

Opera MODO

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Release Date: October 1, 2023

Recording Date: September 3, 2023

Name of Podcast: Beyond Travesti

Episode Title & Number: Jude O’Dell: Season 1, Episode 2

Talking Points

News: ACLU of TX complaint against Fort Worth Academy of Fine Arts [1:40]

Topic #1: Jude’s intro to opera [4:50]

Topic #2: The genesis of Jupiter Opera Development Foundation [8:45]

Topic #3: Pink-collar jobs [18:00]

Topic #4: Donald Tr*mp’s toupee tape [25:10]

Read the episode transcript here.

Relevant Links

Jupiter Opera Development Foundation website

Dream Home, new aria/song commissioned by JODF

ACLU of Texas Files Federal Complaints Against DFW-Area Schools for Anti-LGBTQIA+ Policies

ACLU Calls for Federal Probe of Anti-LGBTQ+ Actions in Texas Schools

ACLU Complaint Full Text

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Release Date: September 1, 2023

Recording Date: August 14, 2023

Name of Podcast: Beyond Travesti

Episode Title & Number: Katherine Goforth: Season 1, Episode 1

Talking Points

Topic #1: Katherine's intro to opera [6:25]

Topic #2: True Voice Award and wanting to self-actualize and self-determine [9:18]

Topic #3: Revolutionary Thinking and Faggots and their Friends... [16:40]

Topic #4: Katherine's goals for her singing and creative work [20:40]

Read the episode transcript here.

Relevant Links

Katherine Goforth's Website

Goforth Awarded the First "True Voice Award"

Faggots and their Friends... in the New York Times

Nu Nah-Hup: Sacajawea's Story at Opera Theater Oregon

Katherine Goforth and Wenwen Du, Nacht und Träume by Franz Schubert

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Speaking of amazing guests, this episode is a conversation with Katherine Goforth (@g0furtherr on Instagram), a dear friend of mine and the recipient of Washington National Opera’s inaugural True Voice Award for transgender and non-binary singers and the Career Advancement Award from the fourth Dallas Symphony Orchestra Women in Classical Music Symposium. I’ve been editing the audio from our conversation, and I really can’t wait for you all to hear it.

I hope engaging the gender-expansive and transgender opera community in dialogue in this medium will be a collectivizing step that can deepen our understanding of our power and help build shared visions for our thriving that extend beyond established formal conventions and traditional institutional spaces. I can’t imagine a better pilot conversation for Beyond Travesti. Katherine, very aptly, questions what we even mean when we talk about “an industry,” and dreams out loud about what kind of a revolution we need now in (and around) classical music spaces.

I hope you’ll follow along with this journey. As of now, as a writer and performer with projects in the pipeline and a full-time job, I can only sustain the pace of an episode per month. That said, I have a fantastic slate of guests lined up through this first season, and I have every intention of keeping the project alive in some form as long as it has a supportive audience.

Follow us on Instagram if you haven’t yet. If you have someone you think I should chat with, send me a note at brycemcclendon@substack.com. The best way to support the project is to become a paid subscriber to The Bryce is Wrong. All proceeds will go (and have been going!), first and foremost, to compensate my guests, then toward expanding production quality. If you’d like to give a one-time donation, you can do so at the link in our Instagram bio. Thanks for listening!

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—

Some things I’ve been listening to…

1. J.A. Hasse, Cleofide

My gay ass has been listening to a lot of Opera Seria. Shocker. I stumbled across this album with Emma Kirkby and Derek Lee Ragin, and if you’re into that sort of nasty haute baroque couture smut, give it a holler.

2. Strict Scrutiny, The Aesthetic Enjoyment of Other People’s Uteruses

I usually try my best to keep up with the Strict Scrutiny podcast, but admittedly my brain does not operate at the speed of constitutional law scholars so it can be touch and go. But this most recent episode, which starts off analyzing the Fifth Circuit decision in the mifepristone was super enlightening (if horrifying). At this point, it shouldn’t be news to anyone that access to body autonomy has to be the primary ballot issue in every major election across the country for the foreseeable future, and I think this issue illustrates well the urgent precarity of access to reproductive healthcare in the courts.

Some things I’ve been reading…

1. Out of Salem by Hal Schrieve

This book is awesome. I learned about Hal Schrieve from hir conversation with Tuck Woodstock on the Gender Reveal podcast (where I learn about so much stuff). Ze works a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, and YA lit with queer characters. Out of Salem is hir debut novel. Set in a world similar to our own except with magic and monsters, Out of Salem follows recent teen zombie Z Chillworth as they befriend secret (which is to say, unregistered) teen werewolf Aysel. Perhaps unsurprisingly, hostility toward werewolves and zombies grows increasingly dangerous and violent throughout the book. The way this book builds out its fantasy world as an exposition and critique of our contemporary systems of oppression is both smart and thrilling.

I also know some of my readers are educators and parents, so I want to shout out the LGBT+ kids’ books educator guides ze has posted on hir website, too!

2. Political Disappointment: A Cultural History from Reconstruction to the AIDS Crisis by Sara Marcus

“To keep longing for a lost future is evidence of survival,” Sara Marcus writes in Political Disappointment. “The loss may have undone a dream of a more just and peaceful existence, but the dreamer nonetheless goes on existing, and aspiring.” At this moment where so much of what we want seems so distant, and it even seems we are facing setbacks on recently achieved progress, it is helpful to think critically about the role disappointment plays in our political consciousness. Marcus argues disappointment was the primary political and artistic force of the twentieth century, defining it as “untimely desire: a longing for fundamental change that outlasts a historical moment when it might have been fulfilled.” What can we learn from our disappointments? How can they redefine our hopes and motivate our continued striving? Marcus explores these questions by analyzing transcriptive practices across the twentieth-century cultural record, including the work of W.E.B. Dubois, the Fisk Jubilee Singers, and Audre Lorde.

Some things I’ve been watching…

1. They Cloned Tyrone, directed by Juel Taylor

I really hope the Barbenheimer shuffle doesn’t eclipse this brilliant sci-fi comedy. First of all, hearkening in style to 70s Blaxploitation films, it is pristinely stylish and looks unbelievably good. Second of all, it stars John Boyega, Teyonah Parris, and Jamie Foxx. The trio discovers a widespread conspiracy literally underfoot in their community, and they get to work infiltrating and dismantling it. It is so funny and creative, and you should see it!

2. Theater Camp, directed by Molly Gordon and Nick Lieberman

I was prepared to love this movie and it did not disappoint me. As someone who has watched Christopher Guest’s masterpiece Waiting for Guffman upwards of 40 times (not an exaggeration), I have to say this movie felt equally classic on my first viewing. It is so full of moments and lines that will make theater nerds cringe and shriek with recognition one would have to watch. I certainly laughed, but I also felt in awe of its wit and profound care for its subject.

Share The Bryce is Wrong

Lots of stuff has been going on over here. I’ve been a bit restless with multiple projects, but steadily making progress on all of them. Trying to convince a residency to let me get away from my routine for a while to synthesize all of my reading and drafting for a large-scale libretto that is READY to burst forth, given the right time and space.

You have likely also seen that I’m starting a podcast, Beyond Travesti. The trailer is out now on all of your little ol’ podcast platforms. Give it a listen. I have a truly thrilling group of guests for this first season, and I’m excited to learn from them all and give them a platform to share with you.

Some things I’ve been listening to…

The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling and, CRUCIALLY, the Contrapoints video about The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling

Recently, a friend recommended this podcast to me. She suggested I listen to it all the way through, which I did. It was, quite frankly, excruciating. The reason she suggested I listen to it was because the podcast host, Megan Phelps Roper — a former member of the hate group Westboro Baptist Church who claims to have been “deradicalized” through “open discourse” — speaks toward the end of the episode to two trans people about their thoughts on J.K. Rowling and her violently transphobic tweets and blog posts.

The first FIVE HOURS of the podcast, however, are apologetics for J.K. Rowling that present trans people as an angry mob intent on dismantling and destroying feminism. Rowling herself blabs and blabs her gender-essentialist ideas in conversation with Roper throughout the podcast, and very little of what she says is ever challenged. The podcast then uses the conversations with these trans people to pretend it is interested in understanding the argument holistically when it is, quite literally, not.

It is a case study on Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad media about trans people. If you have the stomach for it, you should listen to the series and then watch Contrapoints’s video (below) about her experience being on the podcast. It is such a common thing for trans people to have our insights co-opted by media makers who do not have trans thriving in mind. Emily Bazelon famously wrote that bullshit piece in the times, and the trans experts she spoke to were like hey wait I talked to her and she ignored like everything I said. This series and Contrapoints’s video about it is a thorough reminder that MOST OF THE MEDIA WE HAVE ACCESS TO ABOUT TRANS PEOPLE IS BASICALLY JUST RIGHT WING CONSERVATIVE TALKING POINTS PRETENDING TO BE CENTRISM.

Some things I’ve been reading…

All the Gay Saints by Kayleb Rae Candrilli

Kayleb Rae Candrilli quickly became a favorite poet of mine with this collection of poems from 2020. It is an ecstatic book about trans love, queerness, masculinity, and the body. It is so, so, so good, and I’m looking forward to reading their other work; I immediately got hold of their 2021 collection, Water I Won’t Touch while reading this one.

Alive at the End of the World by Saeed Jones

Saeed Jones is one of the writers I respect most in this world. He has been in my pantheon since I read his memoir How We Fight For Our Lives. I keep my copy of Prelude to Bruise with me at my office desk. I look forward to hearing him in my podcast feed every week on Vibe Check. The way he speaks, thinks, and writes has profoundly increased my capacity (and willingness) to name my feelings and deepened my grace for myself and others. I am so grateful for this collection. Saeed has spoken about our society’s inability to grieve, and about how he has approached grieving as a student. This book feels like a compendium of that learning, and I can tell by reading it that there will be a time — perhaps many times — in my life when I will need to come back to it. Thank you, Saeed.

Some things I’ve been watching…

Southern Comfort

I recently watched this movie which I learned about from Hil Malatino’s book, Side Affects: On Being Trans and Feeling Bad. It tells the story of Robert Eads, a trans man who has repeatedly been turned away by doctors in his effort to treat his ovarian cancer. It is a movie of marvelous wisdom and sorrow, full of the joy of community — truly beautiful images and sounds of trans community — and the weight of loss. I watched it on the Criterion Channel, but the entire movie is also available on YouTube.

Some things I’ve been doing…

Keep your eyes on the feed for episodes of Beyond Travesti, which will be released beginning in September. Thanks to my paid subscribers, I’ve been able to launch this effort and compensate my brilliant guests. If you want to support that work, please consider becoming a paid subscriber to The Bryce is Wrong. The money I make from this Substack is going directly into that effort, and I would be very grateful for any support!

Greenville babes, I’ll be home next week and the week after for the South Carolina New Play Festival. Looking forward to seeing lots of theater and hob-nobbing with all of you. Reach out!