Post 1 of 8 :: Mixing Metaphors: One Artist’s Passage from Humming Child to Singer-Songwriter Recording Artist
I asked my then 10-year-old daughter what she thought after seeing me perform as a lead singer in an over-the-top costume cover band (the subject of an upcoming blog post). She was old enough to be able to process her mother’s doing something that outlandish, but fortunately not yet old enough to be mortified by it. She answered with the direct, clear-eyed honesty of her age: “You were doing exactly what I think you are supposed to be doing.”
Just like every girl growing up in the 70s (or so I imagine), I wanted to be a folk singer. My parents listened mostly to classical music, but also to Simon & Garfunkel and the Kingston Trio, and I knew every song in detail – melodies, harmonies, and lyrics. I also grew up around campfires where angsty college students with guitars – almost all of them young men – poured out Neil Young, Eagles, and America like water, and every girl in the fire’s glow lapped it up. That felt like the closest thing to real life.
At my house, however, music lessons were classical, and they started with the neighborhood piano teacher. By high school, I was playing piano concerti by Mozart and Beethoven. I also took up the cello in the sixth grade, and I was always the kid in choir that got the solos, so I started classical voice lessons in high school, with plenty of Caro Mio Ben and Sebben Crudele to feed the agony in my pubescent psyche.
My classical training was not what I had in mind back when I was singing wistfully around the campfire, but I am grateful for it because my it allows me to understand music and musicianship in ways that I would not otherwise. I even considered auditioning for music conservatory instead of applying to college, and for many years, I regretted not trying. Now that I am writing, recording, and performing my own music, however, I realize that this is where my heart was all along, and I wonder if conservatory might have steered me so far from this path that I may never have found it.
My daughter’s vision into my heart, even though my performance that day was far from perfect, reminds me that I am on the right track. Thank God I asked.
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