By Mark Espenschied, Publisher
There was a time when being a singer was all that mattered to me. Eventually, I had to accept that I did not really have the potential for greatness, and I lacked the commitment to devote my whole life to that goal.
I am 48. Susan Boyle is 48. In the most general of terms, I feel like I can relate to her as a singer. I am not jealous that she has gotten her break. I want everyone to realize how significant it is.
A lot of people have good voices. Since a good voice is so important to me, it has been surprising to discover how many people with good voices don’t value them. “Sure, I can sing. It doesn’t really interest me.” Those people are frustrating to singers. “Don’t you realize what you have?!”
Susan Boyle realizes what she has. She has a unique instrument. But even at that, singing is hard. Let me clarify. To sing correctly is hard.
Susan Boyle has taken the gifts she was born with and developed them. You don’t just sing like she sings. You learn how to use the instrument.
Having confidence in your instrument allows you to perform when fear, uncertainty and doubt are trying to dominate you. “I can do this. This is what I long to do. I have something worth public validation.” Plus, even though the size of the crowds have been much, much smaller, she has years of experience. She knows she can open her mouth and blow people away, whether it’s 20 in a pub or millions around the globe. Experience always matters.
Her audition is especially significant to watch because she had nothing to lose. She knew she had the shot she had waited for her whole life. She could not be concerned that she was old, that she had gained weight, that she was still dealing with the loss of her mother. She had no idea how it would be received globally, but she knew that she had a chance to sing for the judges, and that not many get that opportunity. And she knew she had an instrument. Bizarre behavior before and after singing? Not really. She is a singer, not a talk show host. Before and after is when you see the nerves, and frankly she proved her mettle as a performer in those moments. Would you prefer that she stand there like a scared mouse or shake her hips?
When you watch the clip of her singing “Memory,” you learn quite a bit from her first faltering notes. It is obvious that Susan Boyle sings with learned technique. Look at her posture. Watch what she does when her voice betrays her. She has mentality lost focus of the technique and her hand reaches for what musicians call our diaphragm, as if to remind her instrument of where the support comes from. She quickly regains focus, straightens a little and is fine. She sings a lot in her low register and that deserves praise. The low register is the hardest to support and sustain. But that work makes her soaring passages all the more dynamic and rewarding. Remember that she was already feeling the strain of the incredible global attention at this point. But while she was on stage, she stayed focus and put on a performance.
The final is several amazing performances – only one singing. She channels all the frustration and all the fear into that vocal performance. She did not break down emotionally after the winner was announced; she had been breaking down for days. But performers understand that on stage is where you feel the most control. It’s all about you. You know what you are there to do. You want to do it. You want to please the audience and you believe that you can. At least, you have to find out if you can. I would call her rendition a liberating experience for her. Imagine all those thoughts swirling around in her head. “Am I going to win? What if I don’t win? Everyone expects me to win. I sang my song, get me out of here.” The chitchat after her song had to be the hardest thing for her, and she defaulted to safe territory, thanking everyone. “I’m among friends, am I not?” How many performances do you think that line got her through as a young girl before she was so sure of her instrument? Before she had the experience. “Susan, everyone wants you to sing well. They did not come here to hear you sing badly. They are your friends…” and the other millions of things we tell youngsters who want to perform but lack the experience and confidence.
And then we come to the announcement of the winner. This is where Susan Boyle deserves a medal. She is absolutely gracious in defeat. She says the right things. She keeps her composure while inside her thoughts are screaming at her, “They don’t like me! They don’t like me!” Where is the acknowledgment of this feat?!
This is the problem that resulted for Susan Boyle. “You must win. All else is failure.” There were many good performances that night that did not win. But Susan Boyle’s transition from, “Wow, you made it into the completion,” to “You’re going to win! You’re going to win! The world EXPECTS you to WIN!” And then not win? Think about it. Try to relate to it.
I think she is going to be fine. I think she is going to make her CD and I think she is going to tour to support it. She may even make it on stage in the West End. Why? Because it is when she is performing that she is happiest, AND SHE IS GOOD AT IT. It is then that she feels the most self worth. She will work through the emotional rollercoaster of the competition and the unrealistic demands it placed on her. Then she will focus on what she does best – stand before an audience and sing.
“Britain’s Got Talent” will be but a footnote. People want to hear her sing, because she has a voice that deserves to be heard. It won’t be a competition. It will be singing for friends.
