La Gazza Ladra, translated, is ‘thieving magpie’. My intention is not to discuss Rossini‘s opera by the same name. It is, rather, to explain a recent revelation on my relationship to perfectionism.
I am a Virgo. I like things orderly, well-planned, and tidy. As a singer, I find that perfectionism does have a purpose in the preparation of music. Every nuance must be visited; every turn of phrase shaped to fit my interpretation of a song or aria. I find that it serves two purposes: 1) It makes the performance of pieces far more intimate for the audience if I am able to express, down to the most minute emotion, the emotional and dramatic intent, and it 2) gives ME something to enjoy as I perform. I find that every aspect of the singing process becomes easy when I am purely relaying the text as a message. The minute I go into ‘singer mode’ and think technically in performance, I disengage from my audience and disappear into a sea of hyper-critical thinking. As you may imagine, this never ends well.
So, what makes me think of perfectionism as a thieving magpie? First, understanding a tiny bit about the opera’s plot may help. In it, one of the main characters is accused of, and imprisoned for, theft. In the end (this is a VERY truncated explanation meant solely for a point of reference), it is discovered that a magpie came and stole the item in question.
As many of you know, I recently did a full recital; a compendium of Benjamin Britten works. It went extremely well, and I look forward to doing it a few more times over the course of the year. Was it recording perfection? By no means… my feelings about what the recording industry has done to the world of opera will be saved for another post (or three). Did I feel like I gave every ounce of artistry to everything I sang? Why, yes.
But Perfection…the thieving magpie… robbed me of my ability to recognize that in the moment. Those things which were not ‘perfect’ in my mind grabbed my attention and imprisoned me. Wrongfully imprisoned, I went within and looked for the truth and for solace. What came during that time was not news to me, but something I needed to remember: Those things which fell on my ear went largely unnoticed by the audience. I have mentioned in previous blogs about something feeling broken in my confidence levels, which was creating a lack of trust in my ability as an artist and as a singer. Having uncovered this different regard for perfection and its place in the whole spectrum of life as an artist, I am noticing subtle shifts in my confidence. This will, of course, be tested soon. As I venture into the rest of my upcoming season, I will have to remember to leave perfectionism in the rehearsal space. If I can go out and perform with intelligent abandon (also referred to in an earlier blog), there won’t be a chance that some little magpie can swoop in and rob me of my freedom again.
Does anyone else ever have this experience? Does perfectionism stand between you and your dream?