Back when I was a young Blogmeister I got to see a live performance of the musical “Camelot”. This was the reprisal of the show where Robert Goulet, Lancelot in the movie, was now playing the part of King Arthur as part of a touring show. (News flash: Bob could really, really sing.)

It’s a grand old show from back when musicals were really fun, shows like “Mary Poppins” and “My Fair Lady” and “The Music Man” (I’ve seen more recent productions like “Miss Saigon” and “The Book of Mormon” and they were excellent but they didn’t have that joyous innocence we enjoyed in the 60’s and 70’s). Learner and Loewe had a real knack for mixing a little drama with some laughs and beautiful music.

So here’s what struck me almost immediately and has stuck with me ever since. All of the players were great at their craft but they were actors in a play. Goulet was just…well…the king. He was so much better than the rest of the cast that it was almost a little odd. It only took a few moments for him to no longer be Robert Goulet but Arthur. It was as if they’d plopped the king on the stage and surrounded him with actors. He had transformed himself so completely that he was as comfortable in Arthur’s skin as he was in his own. When he sang it was still like a conversation with whoever it was meant for (and when it was meant for the audience we were spellbound). It was masterful.

Fast forward to a group of singers in their own skins…we all know when we get it right, when the music and its meaning and its message just roll out of us so naturally that the audience plugs right into it. “’O ‘Oe ‘Io” is always that way. It’s so near and dear to us that it always will be. The first Black History Month concert we did was that way as well; somehow the gospel music just rocked the place and we were all immersed in it. There are still those folks who call that the Windward Choral Society’s best show ever.

But what about the music that, although it’s beautiful, just doesn’t have that same natural flow to it. Yes, we’re singing it but we’re not living it. It’s part of the ebb and flow of a concert presentation where things move back and forth between “that was great” and “that was AWESOME”.

So how do we transform great to awesome? How do we wear each piece of music comfortably in our skin? Here are some suggestions.

• First and foremost, practice that piece until the words and the notes are easy and you can focus on the performance of it. Practice at home, practice in small groups, practice until there are long passages that you can blast through without looking down at the music. Goulet knew his material so well that he didn’t have to think about it and could bury himself in the character.
• Spend some time going through the music not as a singer but as a speaker. Read the words out loud (if they’re in another language, use the translation). If you were reading the words to a listener, how would you do it? Where would you be louder or softer? What would your facial expression be? Smiling? Concerned? Lovingly sincere? Then sing it that way.
• Last but certainly not least, rehearse like you’re going to perform. Great athletes don’t practice at a walking pace and then crank it up on game day, they practice at full speed so it’s completely natural when they hit the field. The same needs to be true for a singer; you can’t just turn on your smile and your emotion and your joy when you’re in front of your audience, you have to practice that way so it’s completely natural when you’re on the risers.

Best line from “Camelot”, at least in the Blogmeister’s opinion:

“The adage, ‘Blood is thicker than water,’ was invented by undeserving relatives.”