The wild-card entrant

Monday at Cabaret Summer School, 2011.

There are twelve of us in the program, mostly people in their twenties.  There are several more mature women, but I reckon I'm the oldest.  We start with introductions around the circle.  "Final year of Drama at Flinders Uni", "Music theatre degree in Melbourne", "Jazz Voice degree from Adelaide University Conservatorium", "Accepted for Yale cabaret program later this year", "Professional opera singer; toured with Phantom of the Opera for seven years".

And then there's me.  When my turn comes to introduce myself, I call myself an "escaped lawyer", and describe how I stumbled into cabaret less than a year ago.  I don't try to exaggerate my musical experience.  I make it really clear that I'm a newcomer to performance.  Possibly I'm being a little disingenuous.  May I'm angling for a sympathy vote.

But how am I going to keep pace with these people?  I'm a complete amateur - a sort of wild-card entrant.

Workshop leaders Matthew and Catherine describe their respective backgrounds and tell how they performed together at the Blue Angel Club in New York.

With us also is Frank Ford, founder of the Adelaide Cabaret Festival (held in June of each year).

Now the first masterclass begins.  Everyone will sing a song in front of the group.  Feedback will be provided by both the mentors and the students.  Matthew tells us "We are all good at giving ourselves criticism.  We are not necessarily aware of the strengths that other people see in us."  We are all asked to write a few lines for each person - something that we liked about their performance and one or two things that they could improve.

It's like being on "Australian Idol" - minus the nasty judges.

Ben starts, with the Stephen Sondheim song "Losing My Mind".  Catherine tells him "Strip away the artifice and give us you".  Her advice for all of us is "You are enough".  This phrase becomes an anchor for me;  it helps me with my performance.  When Ben sings the song again, his authenticity highlights the emotion in the song.

Deb also sings "Losing My Mind".  Her version is entirely different - she's the opera singer.  Catherine advises her to use "flashes" of her operatic voice, for dramatic effect.  At the end of the week, Deb ends up performing the song as an "ode to chocolate", with hilarious results.

Amongst the great variety of performances, a common theme is to think more deeply about the words of the song, and to "tell the story".   Frank says "First, study the lyrics, then decide what you will do with them."

Straight after lunch it's my turn.  I sing "You Only Live Twice", from the James Bond movie.  It's a meaningful song for me; it says it's never too late to follow your dreams.  I stand alone beside the grand piano, in broad daylight, in front of a dozen people in plastic chairs, looking at me.  There's no microphone.  My voice feels naked and doesn't resonate.  I get through the song and remain standing there while the three mentors comment on my performance.  "Focus on the key words"; "Think about the stranger you're singing about - what does he look like?"; "Sing through the phrases to create continuity"; "What you are thinking makes a big difference to what comes out of your mouth - imagine the dream coming true."

They ask me to sing it again.  They say "That was much better".  I'm a newbie, but they're taking me as seriously as the others.

At the end of the day, Matthew asks us to think about a "working title" for our shows.  We'll be performing these on Sunday night, and we'll need to find a concept to work with.

When I get home, I open the sheaf of notes that my class-mates have written for me.  My heart gains pace.  I take a deep breath and read.  There are words of praise and encouragement, and some tips on better breathing.

Tomorrow is "Ballad Day".  I have to find a ballad to sing.