On Performing with Singers - pros and cons

It’s easy to pay attention when singers are singing. They usually wear bright colours, stand in the middle of the stage and make a lot of noise with words – they tell stories. And the pianist? They’re further back, wearing colors that perfectly blend into the grand piano, there are no easily recognizable stories and certainly no words. If they’re playing behind an upright, you might literally not see them at all, until they get up at the end to take a bow.

Performing with singers, the pianists don’t always make it to the spotlight, and that’s annoying – but if we’ll keep ranting about it and won’t take ourselves too seriously, it’s possible not to become bitter. Humour really is the saving thing… and it’s not like we’re heart surgeons, so it’s ok not to have a National Pianist Day.

So, to make my point, here’s a couple of things that a pianist might not love about performing with singers:

1) Your name not appearing anywhere in concert advertising

…or the instrument, for that matter – how’s a person to expect a singer with piano if only the singer is mentioned? It might as well be a mandolin or a marching band.

2) Your name not appearing anywhere in the concert program

This happened to me in a student opera scenes concert. I played through the show, but there was no mention of me having been anywhere near the stage. In the end it turned out alright, though, for the teacher had spotted the students’ mistake, and she bought me a bottle of wine to say sorry. So in the end I was totally cool with that. (And drunk.)

3) People thinking your solo piece is an intermission

In a song recital there’s often a piano piece in the middle so the singer can rest and drink some water. The pianist doesn’t need to rest because she’s a superhero, and therefore plays alone for the audience to enjoy. Sometimes, however, the audience interprets this as an intermission, and happily chats away through the piece. The boldest take out snacks and drinks and have a jolly good time, while the pianist cultivates very dark thoughts.

4) Playing with singers considered “just accompanying”

I’ve often been told that what I’m doing is not as impressive as being a soloist. “But Jenna, you’re not playing, you’re just accompanying!”

“Just so that you know”, I tell these people in my head, “playing the piano parts of songs is a specific skill that has to be learned and it’s ACTUALLY QUITE HARD TO DO WELL. Also, I really am playing the piano even though someone is singing at the same time, and it really is my concert too. If it wasn’t my concert, I WOULDN’T BE THERE.”

Then some things a pianist should love about performing with singers:

​1) Getting to play Christmas songs

No need to explain this one. It’s just plain awesome.

2) Being the superhero

The singer accidentally does something weird – jumps three pages, starts singing too early or too late, or whatever – and you put on your pianist superhero cape and jump in to save them. The audience doesn’t notice anything, and the song continues flowing on like nothing ever happened. You keep a straight face, but inside, you’re glowing.

3) An audience member telling you after a concert that “the piano really is half of the performance”

Yes, I know. But it makes me happy to hear you say it.

4) You’re not alone

Whatever I might complain about, in the end it’s just so rewarding to make music with another human being. Making music is much more fun and fulfilling when you have two perspectives instead of one. Music doesn’t combine your personalities, it transcends them into something that would be quite unreachable on your own. And you get to wear matching outfits.

P.S. If you screw up while someone is singing, people might not notice. So all in all it’s great.

On Recording with Singers

When recording audition tapes with singers you’re a helping pair of hands, not the star of the show. Great! Time to relax and not stress about every single note. Probably no-one will pay attention to your brilliant background things, so why not just enjoy yourself? There’s just one tiny little ‘but’: if you ruin an otherwise glorious recording with a cock-up, it could be the last recording you ever do. Either because no-one wants to hire you anymore or because a soprano axe-murdered you.

I tend to take recordings quite seriously. I want to play well and destroy as few takes with wrong notes as I possibly can. So I play super carefully, which makes for very boring music. It’s so hard to relax and let the phrases flow when you’re mumbling Hail Marys on every jump and scale. Practice helps, I’ve heard, but how can a pianist stop caring about wrong notes in this day and age? For all the cds are perfect, aren’t they? The recording you upload to youtube will be there for all eternity. How much time is that for other pianists to hear it and mock each of your wrong notes separately? (Because that’s what we imagine others do with their free time. Do we have proof? No. But we can almost hear them laughing.) If it’s a video, then all your funny faces, mannerisms and technical problems will be there as well, haunting your dreams.

Where does that leave us pianists? Looking fondly down from a high bridge before each recording?

Being really honest, all this is unimportant. You get nervous, but if you know your shit, you’ll be just fine. And it’s music we’re talking about here, not brain surgery. The risks are small in the grand scheme of things. (If you avoid dark alleys after twilight and practice well.) However, the underlying reason I want to make every recording my best yet is that I love music. It’s so obvious I sometimes forget it’s true. I really love what I do, and I love songs – how they combine text, human voice and the richness of piano. I want to play these pieces as well as they deserve to be played, so I can share with others this monstrous, life-transcending gift we’ve been given that is music.

Hallelujah.

If that alone didn’t lift your spirits, here’s some practical tips:

1) Do plan and practice page-turns. Don’t, and you’ll die.

2) If there are cuts, add color. I use huge bright red stars whenever I have to notice things.

3) Don’t show your fear to singers. They smell it, just like dogs.

On Clothes

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a pianist must wear clothes to each and every performance. I have this image of myself playing something amazing in a bright green silk dress that floats around me in a magnificient wave, designer jewellery to match, and very shiny silver pumps. In reality I’m dressed in black stuff, always. Except when I get wild in dark blue... Grr! Whatever the color, the most important aspect of any concert gear is wearability. A pianist is sitting sideways in front of the audience. And whose most flatterig profile is that? Not mine. Also, one has to move in many ways. The ways get more complex in contemporary music, as composers love to spice things up with a bit of healthy excercise.

So what should a pianist pay attention to while shopping? Here’s what I’ve learned:

1) Can I breathe?

This is somewhat crucial. Some like the support a corset gives, but I love stretchy fabrics that I could essentially do yoga in. (Except I don’t, unless you count a cheeky downward facing dog in the fitting room, for proof.)

2) Can I see my toes? Can you see my crotch?

A dress too long can make you press wrong pedals because you just can’t see them, and stepping on the hem when getting up can turn the concert into a sitcom. On the other hand, a short dress looks a lot longer when you’re standing. Sit, and the hem rides up quite a few inches. If you’re good at pressing your thighs together while playing, why the hell not – or if you have an exhibitionist streak you’ll have the time of your life. Just put on your fanciest knickers and go for it.

3) Dare I bare my arms?

Not being exactly Serena Williams, I’ve been quite shy on the arm front. I like having longer sleeves and flailing my arms safe inside them, rather than taking them out in the open. Sometimes it’s so hot onstage that there’s no debate, but I suggest you have this conversation in your head anyway. Are you ready to set your arms free?

4) Does it wrinkle?

You sit, you sweat, you bow, and after the concert you stuff your dress into a bag and get out. How’s it looking when you take it out of the bag after a week because you forgot about it, again, and now you need it in an hour and there’s no time for ironing? Just saying.

5) How’s the neckline?

A beautiful low plunge? Sure. A concert dress I loved had just one bonus feature: whenever I took a bow in it I had to remember to place a hand on my heart to show the audience my warmest, sincerest gratitude. Instead of my boobs.

6) Can you walk in your shoes?

Sometimes the pedals are placed so low that pressing them with heels nearly breaks your ankle. Otherwise heels are great. But the most important thing I’ve learned about shoes is that you have to check if they squeak. Surprisingly many shoes make all sorts of sounds when you press the pedal, creating an interesting soundscape that usually doesn’t match your performance. (Hint to composers: use it. Might be funny.)

That’s it. 

PS. Apologies to men – your festive clothing I know nothing about. Keep rocking the suits.