Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another episode of "Soapbox Rants: Challenging the Status Quo in Voice Training," where I'll unleash my rage-filled sarcasm on the absurd world of voice training. So buckle up, because I'm about to tear into the twisted notion that all singers are musicians, but not all musicians are singers. maniacal laughter
You see, we're all singers – that's right, even you, the tone-deaf guy in the back. Singing is a default feature of being human, like breathing or that pesky urge to keep living. But being a musician? Oh, that's a choice. A prestigious title you get to flaunt like a doctor or some other high-ranking professional.
Joining the elite club of musicians means declaring to the world that you take this whole singing thing seriously. Most people in this club are just here to enjoy their own little private jam sessions. But for those brave souls who want to sing on stage, well, you're in for a world of critics, public scrutiny, and a never-ending rollercoaster of exhilaration and humiliation. Doesn't that sound delightful?
Now, let's dive into the absurdity of rehearsals. Ever heard a choir director say, "our first rehearsal with the musicians?" Excuse me? Aren't you a musician? Weren't you rehearsing for weeks already? Well, apparently, you're just a lowly singer, while the "real" musicians play instruments. It's a classic case of rankism, a term coined by Robert W. Fuller, where people act like jerks because of their place in a hierarchy.
And now, a stereotypical story about four parents at a party, bragging about their kids' careers. Parent 1 boasts about their doctor child, Parent 2 brags about their lawyer offspring, and Parent 3 timidly mentions their woodworker kid. But Parent 4 drops the bomb: "Dale's a musician." gasps
The real problem isn't how these kids rank on some bogus success scale; it's that we rank them at all. Some careers might offer financial stability, but that doesn't make those people better than others. It just means they can afford to enjoy the arts and support others in their pursuit of music.
Oh, and let's talk about jealousy and commitment! Singers are stars, and everyone knows stars are better than planets – I mean, instrumentalists. But the truth is, becoming a skilled singer doesn't require the same financial investment as being an instrumentalist. Amy Barnes, a mother of two young instrumentalists, spent $35,000 on her kids' musical education over six years. Meanwhile, some singers spend next to nothing and still achieve success.
This disparity fuels the absurd ranking of classical singers above pop singers, soloists above chorus members, and so on. But in the end, you need to hold yourself in high regard. Unlike Johnny's trumpet, your voice can't be replaced if you leave it out in the rain. You can't upgrade to a better model. Your success relies on combining hard work with your unique life experience, living out the best version of yourself on stage.
And don't even get me started on the whole "science of music" debacle. We don't need to justify the importance of the arts in everyday life. Music and the arts don't need a reason or a higher purpose. So stop trying to link musical theater with SAT scores, and just embrace the fact that you're a singer, a musician, and a beautifully flawed human being.