Fear: A Reflection

“The best antidote to stage fright is practice.” That adage has been the age old mantra I have used throughout my career as a performing artist. However, I find that any fear, anxiety, or uncertainty I experience today doesn’t stem from any lack of preparation.

I am afraid I will never measure up to all the requirements of this art form— opera. There, I said it. The singing and acting is the journey, but it is all the other stuff of this art form: social media engagement, gaining followers/supporters, staying on top of fashion, keeping websites and photos current, taxes, being able to travel and make auditions on a ‘starving’ artist’s budget. Then, it’s the directors, donors, and audiences... all the perceptions and stereotypes. It’s daunting, annoying and tiresome when you just want to make great art, music, sing and not manage a small business on the side. Not to mention, we artists are frequently working in new environments, with new people, and diverse concepts about this craft. And then, there is the ethnicity factor that shows up in two distinct ways— Black Tax and Institutional Inequities.

Black Tax
I often find it is not enough that I just show up and sing. If I perform or audition well, I must also be prepared to know that I am less likely to get the role because a director may not perceive me to be within the “vision” of the production.

I combat this in a few ways: only auditioning for roles that I know they could visualize me performing; auditioning for companies that actively hire racially diverse casts; auditioning for roles that specifically need African-Americans or people of color in the role; and making connections with the company prior to an audition to build familiarity. But even after all that... I am still less likely to get the gig.

I have experienced being a young artist at an opera company, arriving to rehearsals with my materials memorized and being completely prepared, but my colleagues were not. As professional singers we are supposed to arrive prepared. But because they were not, it felt like they were rewarded with additional help and regular support, but I was not, even if I just wanted it. I became so under-utilized that by the end of the production the staff came to know the other performers, but made no strong connections with me— the singer completely prepared from day one. I received no acknowledgements, got no invitation to group outings; and potentially no rehire with the company, due to a lack of familiarity or memorable factor to associate with me. Other than my performance and our rehearsals, I didn’t appear connected to my peers or the people making it happen.

Institutional Inequities
I largely work in the United States, and if 2020 taught us anything it taught us that the US is not over institutional discrimination. Low wages, police violence, and lack of justice and representation, as it affects people of color, are also problems. As an African-American male, this is my baseline of fear and anxiety living in this country. In my craft, I am acutely aware that the American opera companies I sing for are fueled— and often run— by wealthy patrons and their desires, not the average patron who’s unable to subscribe to box seats. Political, social, and ideological differences are quickly exacerbated within the performing arts. Couple these differences with the growing epicureanism— only wanting the best, the rarest, the flashiest and the most novel performers in lead roles— and the result is not viable or sustainable. This type of art can’t meet the needs of society at large.

US Opera companies are a long way from making inclusive programming, diverse casting, inclusive workspace, and equitable wages a standard. Couple that with treating artists like a showcase— instead of nurturing emerging talent, skill, and expertise— it feels like performers are paraded like hookers rather than skilled interpreters and, well..... artists.

I fear I will never measure up... sure, I can pull myself up by my boot straps, but how far will that take me? Time and time again, I have felt my performance or audition thwarted by an injustice or inequity of some kind. It’s happened enough that now anytime I work with a new company, I feel like I have to prepare my anxiety and fear to not get in the way of what I want to accomplish.

I’m not saying that my all experiences have centered just on my race or the racial inequities I witness around me— far from it. Any performing artist can relate to something I have shared here. However, when you factor in Black Tax— the notion that most things “cost” us a little more— and the lack of support caused by institutional inequity, black people in this profession can often feel alone and fearful.

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[Photo: @dtopkin1]