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The Pretty Singer
As opera moves to the big screen, the value placed on being physically attractive seems to be on the rise. What value should beauty have in the opera world? Are pretty singers treated differently and if so, how does this effect their vocal development? What value do you place on your looks, and how does it affect your sense of worth as a performer? And what does this value mean for the future of opera?
By Lisa Houston
Originally published in Classical Singer Magazine, May 2008
This is a touchy subject, I know. It is difficult to even discuss the idea of beauty without discussing the ways in which beauty is co-opted, exploited, commercialized and used as an standard that creates enormous suffering for people in our society. Traditionally, this has been more true for female beauty, but men are increasingly the target of advertising by an industry that makes billions of dollars encouraging people to compare themselves to some ideal, and find themselves lacking. This is a human tragedy, and an unfortunate by-product of an overly materialistic society.
It is understandable in the face of this oppressive and dehumanizing trend to want to deny that beauty should have any value, especially in the world of opera that has always placed the highest premium on the beauty of the human voice, not the body. But even if there is agreement that vocal quality and musical expression should be paramount, we cannot ignore the fact that beauty exists.
A specific notion of beauty is, in some ways, a gold standard that changes with every generation and with every cultural wave. What is considered beautiful in one era may be less so with the next. But however unplugged from media reality one is, there are things that we are evolved as humans to find attractive. In the same way that we are hardwired to like babies, with their widely spaced eyes, there are certain physical characteristics, such as symmetry, that we are naturally drawn to. I don’t think there is anything inherently harmful in this reality, and agree with one recent feminist critic who wrote eloquently about the fact that there is such a thing as beauty. And while it may be easy to lament a prioritizing of beauty over talent or vocal skill, and of course we can all be concerned that this does a disservice to our art form, there is also such a thing as a disservice to the beautiful person in question, and that is mainly the topic I wish to address.
I had an experience many years ago that opened my eyes on this subject. I was in acting school and had a classmate who was very, very beautiful. We had studied together for several years. She was already getting a good deal of professional work. She also had a nice singing voice, and was good dancer. With a lot of youthful insecurity of my own, I often thought of her with a feeling of envy. One day, after she had done a scene in class, I ran into her in the ladies room. She had burst into tears and was sobbing. I was very surprised. I had never seen such strong emotion from her, on or off stage. I asked her what was the matter. She was so upset, she could barely get the words out. She said: “how am I supposed to get better if he won’t give me any criticism?” She was referring to our acting teacher. He had complimented her nicely on the scene and that was it. I hadn’t thought about it, but she was right. He hadn’t given her any constructive criticism. And when I thought about it a bit more, I realized that this was most often the case with her work in his class, and with our other teachers as well.
Before this experience, it had never occurred to me that being beautiful could be a hindrance. I was routinely raked over the coals in class, as were most of my classmates and it helped me grow as an actor. How was this beautiful woman supposed to grow and improve without that kind of scrutiny? I don’t think there was any intentional bias or preferential treatment by the teachers. I think that beauty can have that affect of putting one in a sort of a trance.
Many years later, I had that kind of experience as a teacher. I had a student who was a very pretty young woman. Early on in our working together, she sang through a song. For a moment after she finished, I couldn’t think of anything to say. It was lovely. She had a pretty voice, and was beautiful and it was just…well, pretty! At first, I thought I might not have anything to say. But after a moment, I came out of the trance. I realized that there was much to work to be done in both her interpretation and her technique. But I did have that experience that I think those acting teachers must have had of being captivated by a lovely, but not compelling performance. But if my student wanted to improve as a singer, if she had any desire for a career or accomplishment as an artist, I owed it to her to get to work with her. I didn’t want to deprive her the way I had seen my classmate be deprived all those years ago.
As it turned out, the beautiful voice student didn’t stay with me for very long. I don’t know for certain why she stopped her lessons, but I know that in our working together, I could sense that she was unaccustomed to critique, and my guess was that she just didn’t like it. While my classmate had been hungry for help and ways to improve, and by the way, went on to have an extremely successful career on Broadway, this particular student seemed complacent and my guess is she was used to people being complimentary to her and wasn’t comfortable with anything else. One possible lesson in this is that if you are a pretty singer, it may be more challenging to get the level of coaching and critique that could make you a great singer. You may need to stand up and ask for more, and change your tolerance for criticism if you’re not used to it.
There is a character in literature who faces this reality. A young woman in George Elliot’s “Daniel Deronda” is considering a life as a professional singer. She has some talent but as she puts it “has been ill taught.” She goes to a famous musician acquaintance for his advice and opinion. He says, “You are a beautiful young lady. You have been brought up in ease. In sum, you have not been called upon to be anything but a charming young lady, whom it is an impoliteness to find fault with.” But she is not easily discouraged and presses him for more. Eventually, he speaks more bluntly. “You would find, after your education in doing things slackly for one-and-twenty years, great difficulties in study: you would find mortifications in the treatment you would get when you presented yourself on the footing of skill. You would be subjected to tests; people would no longer feign not to see your blunders.”
Pretty or not, a certain level of skill is necessary for a career as a singer. In our industry, competition is fierce enough for the jobs that exist that I don’t think horribly under-qualified singers are given jobs just because they are good looking. But there is a difference between the kind of singing that makes you say “wasn’t that lovely? Now, where shall we eat?” and the kind of singing that makes you stay in your chair after the performance and feel that you have just been changed forever. Classical music organizations in general, and opera companies in particular are struggling for survival. Let us hope that in an effort to compete in a look conscious society, we don’t hasten our own demise by adopting priorities that devalue our essential reason for being: The magic, mystery and beauty of the human voice. And as teachers, let us pay our beautiful students the compliment of treating them as more than a pretty face.
As opera moves to the big screen, the value placed on being physically attractive seems to be on the rise. What value should beauty have in the opera world? Are pretty singers treated differently and if so, how does this effect their vocal development? What value do you place on your looks, and how does it affect your sense of worth as a performer? And what does this value mean for the future of opera?
By Lisa Houston
Originally published in Classical Singer Magazine, May 2008
This is a touchy subject, I know. It is difficult to even discuss the idea of beauty without discussing the ways in which beauty is co-opted, exploited, commercialized and used as an standard that creates enormous suffering for people in our society. Traditionally, this has been more true for female beauty, but men are increasingly the target of advertising by an industry that makes billions of dollars encouraging people to compare themselves to some ideal, and find themselves lacking. This is a human tragedy, and an unfortunate by-product of an overly materialistic society.
It is understandable in the face of this oppressive and dehumanizing trend to want to deny that beauty should have any value, especially in the world of opera that has always placed the highest premium on the beauty of the human voice, not the body. But even if there is agreement that vocal quality and musical expression should be paramount, we cannot ignore the fact that beauty exists.
A specific notion of beauty is, in some ways, a gold standard that changes with every generation and with every cultural wave. What is considered beautiful in one era may be less so with the next. But however unplugged from media reality one is, there are things that we are evolved as humans to find attractive. In the same way that we are hardwired to like babies, with their widely spaced eyes, there are certain physical characteristics, such as symmetry, that we are naturally drawn to. I don’t think there is anything inherently harmful in this reality, and agree with one recent feminist critic who wrote eloquently about the fact that there is such a thing as beauty. And while it may be easy to lament a prioritizing of beauty over talent or vocal skill, and of course we can all be concerned that this does a disservice to our art form, there is also such a thing as a disservice to the beautiful person in question, and that is mainly the topic I wish to address.
I had an experience many years ago that opened my eyes on this subject. I was in acting school and had a classmate who was very, very beautiful. We had studied together for several years. She was already getting a good deal of professional work. She also had a nice singing voice, and was good dancer. With a lot of youthful insecurity of my own, I often thought of her with a feeling of envy. One day, after she had done a scene in class, I ran into her in the ladies room. She had burst into tears and was sobbing. I was very surprised. I had never seen such strong emotion from her, on or off stage. I asked her what was the matter. She was so upset, she could barely get the words out. She said: “how am I supposed to get better if he won’t give me any criticism?” She was referring to our acting teacher. He had complimented her nicely on the scene and that was it. I hadn’t thought about it, but she was right. He hadn’t given her any constructive criticism. And when I thought about it a bit more, I realized that this was most often the case with her work in his class, and with our other teachers as well.
Before this experience, it had never occurred to me that being beautiful could be a hindrance. I was routinely raked over the coals in class, as were most of my classmates and it helped me grow as an actor. How was this beautiful woman supposed to grow and improve without that kind of scrutiny? I don’t think there was any intentional bias or preferential treatment by the teachers. I think that beauty can have that affect of putting one in a sort of a trance.
Many years later, I had that kind of experience as a teacher. I had a student who was a very pretty young woman. Early on in our working together, she sang through a song. For a moment after she finished, I couldn’t think of anything to say. It was lovely. She had a pretty voice, and was beautiful and it was just…well, pretty! At first, I thought I might not have anything to say. But after a moment, I came out of the trance. I realized that there was much to work to be done in both her interpretation and her technique. But I did have that experience that I think those acting teachers must have had of being captivated by a lovely, but not compelling performance. But if my student wanted to improve as a singer, if she had any desire for a career or accomplishment as an artist, I owed it to her to get to work with her. I didn’t want to deprive her the way I had seen my classmate be deprived all those years ago.
As it turned out, the beautiful voice student didn’t stay with me for very long. I don’t know for certain why she stopped her lessons, but I know that in our working together, I could sense that she was unaccustomed to critique, and my guess was that she just didn’t like it. While my classmate had been hungry for help and ways to improve, and by the way, went on to have an extremely successful career on Broadway, this particular student seemed complacent and my guess is she was used to people being complimentary to her and wasn’t comfortable with anything else. One possible lesson in this is that if you are a pretty singer, it may be more challenging to get the level of coaching and critique that could make you a great singer. You may need to stand up and ask for more, and change your tolerance for criticism if you’re not used to it.
There is a character in literature who faces this reality. A young woman in George Elliot’s “Daniel Deronda” is considering a life as a professional singer. She has some talent but as she puts it “has been ill taught.” She goes to a famous musician acquaintance for his advice and opinion. He says, “You are a beautiful young lady. You have been brought up in ease. In sum, you have not been called upon to be anything but a charming young lady, whom it is an impoliteness to find fault with.” But she is not easily discouraged and presses him for more. Eventually, he speaks more bluntly. “You would find, after your education in doing things slackly for one-and-twenty years, great difficulties in study: you would find mortifications in the treatment you would get when you presented yourself on the footing of skill. You would be subjected to tests; people would no longer feign not to see your blunders.”
Pretty or not, a certain level of skill is necessary for a career as a singer. In our industry, competition is fierce enough for the jobs that exist that I don’t think horribly under-qualified singers are given jobs just because they are good looking. But there is a difference between the kind of singing that makes you say “wasn’t that lovely? Now, where shall we eat?” and the kind of singing that makes you stay in your chair after the performance and feel that you have just been changed forever. Classical music organizations in general, and opera companies in particular are struggling for survival. Let us hope that in an effort to compete in a look conscious society, we don’t hasten our own demise by adopting priorities that devalue our essential reason for being: The magic, mystery and beauty of the human voice. And as teachers, let us pay our beautiful students the compliment of treating them as more than a pretty face.
©Lisa Houston 2022