Category Archives: Profile Phriday

Melissa Collom: Finding Value on Both Sides of the Footlights

Melissa Collom earned a BFA from Carnegie Mellon University in Vocal Performance; she currently balances work in the non-profit and political arenas with an active performing schedule. Here’s her story.

How did you get started?

Like many American kids, I grew up with musical theater and imagined that as the goal. During high school my voice teacher, Sara Callanan, encouraged me to try to some classical music and arias. So, motivated by positive feedback and encouragement, I gradually spent more and more time doing classical music. In high school and college I had some great moments on stage when I felt like I could hold the attention of everyone in the room, sometimes even make them laugh or cry. It was an extremely powerful and addictive feeling!

So, why the change?

I had been doing “day jobs” between singing gigs for many years, but this was one of the first that was really meaningful and rewarding to me. Suddenly I felt like I was contributing to a cause that was (much) larger than my own vanity, which is what trying to be a singer can sometimes feel like. Then, in 2008, I had a major (non-singing) health issue. Since then I have needed the stability of a job that provides good health insurance and steady income.

I currently manage the college intern program at the national headquarters of Planned Parenthood Federation of America, though I have had a number of different jobs with the organization over the last few years. Since my focus is on students and young people just beginning their careers, my experiences as an opera apprentice definitely inform what I do. Also, working in politics and political communication can be so much like show business that it is truly disturbing! I love the feeling that I am contributing in a substantial and meaningful way to some of the major political and cultural battles of our time. And I know that my background in performance contributes to the work I do every day.

Letting go of the “opera singer” label was not particularly difficult for me since I never really felt like I fit the opera singer mold. My transition from performing to non-profit management has also been so gradual that I often feel like I’m still working out the balance between these aspects of my life. I feel great about the work I’m doing, but it has been very important to me to seek out creative projects and opportunities to flex my singer muscles from time to time. I can’t believe how much I miss singing if I am not working on some kind of musical project.

Any advice?

Perseverance has to be its own reward if you want to continue pursuing a performance career. Other careers have a lot of other rewards. If you see opportunity for yourself in another field and enjoy the work, don’t feel guilty about following where those successes may lead you.

Both in music school and on the “young artist” circuit, I found the dialogue around performers making career changes to be very negative: we often hear about “failed” careers when people have transitioned into other kinds of work – even if it’s great non-performance work in the same field. I wish we were more supportive of each other and better about measuring the success of a good education by how people employ their knowledge, regardless of where they apply it.

Put on your HR cap: why should a hiring manager consider employing a performer?

Here’s what I would say are some of the main strengths a performer brings to the non-performing world:

First and foremost: Speaking in front of a group. My colleagues constantly compliment me on speaking and presentation skills. Holding the attention of a group of people is a key thing you learn as a performer and singers obviously have great voice projection. I also feel like my time on stage has made me responsive to the timing and flow of holding a group’s attention. These are huge advantages in the workplace where many people truly don’t know how to speak up. I don’t even have to think about it!

Second: Taking direction. We work with a lot of (sometimes crazy) people in the music world. We get input from many sources and learn how to prioritize that information and incorporate it quickly.

Third: Event planning is really stage management. If you’ve worked on any backstage aspects of a performance, you can apply those skills to conferences, events, rallies, etc. because you know how think through who needs to be where and what they need to have with them at any moment in the process.

Finally: Juggling multiple tasks and dealing with competing priorities. If you’ve been a freelancer even for a brief period, you’ve been the CEO, CFO, Marketing Director and everything else for your own company. If you can keep track of all of the different elements of a performance career, it’s likely that you can sort out a project to determine what needs to be done, when things need to happen, and make sure that nothing slips through the cracks.

At my organization we happen to have a temp agency contact who is a former opera singer herself and frequently staffs us with opera singers at various stages of their careers. (She got me my first assignment here four years ago.) When the need arises, I always call her first because the singers she sends us are well-educated, highly motivated to perform well, and able to adapt quickly to a fast moving work environment.

It can be a tough sell to get employers to a see a music degree as a plus on a resume, largely because most members of the general public have no idea what being an opera singer really means. Once the performer is on the job though, they usually hold on to them as long as they can!

James Lynn – from Singing to Security

James started his professional life as an operatic bass-baritone before finding himself happily ensconced in Richmond, Virginia working in the insurance industry. Here’s James’ story:

Low Voice, Big Opportunities

I started singing, and being recognized for doing so, while I was in high school. A teacher, Lee Hanchey, recognized my talent, and directed me towards a local voice teacher, the late Martin Strother, who at the time taught at Virginia Union University. I had a lot of support in high school. My first big validating moment came at a chorus festival – I won an award for a solo that I performed. I was pretty shocked; at the time I didn’t even know there was such an award.

After high school I had a run of winning just about every audition I took. I got into every college that I sang for, and chose to attend Carnegie Mellon.  CMU seemed to give me a lot of attention prior to my college decision. I was very impressed visiting the campus; it was just one of those things that felt right. I even made it into the advanced Concert Choir as a freshman. (The director, Robert Page, gave me a stern warning during the audition, since he knew I couldn’t sight read my way out of a wet paper bag.)

Throughout this whole process, however, I didn’t really “get” what I was doing. I had a big voice and I could put words, notes and rhythms together, but I was no musician – I hadn’t figured out how to really inhabit the art. (I do feel like I achieved this professionally on a few occasions in collaboration with great directors and singers, but even then I probably wasn’t sure what the difference was.) With the help of good teachers, knowledgeable friends and a growing interest, I started learning about opera. I listened to different styles and the great singers (my go-to voices were Sam Ramey and Cesare Siepi), and started emulating those things that were “good.” And for a while this served me well: I got practically every gig that I auditioned for…Chautauqua, Glimmerglass, Santa Fe, and the Merola Program at San Francisco Opera. After my time in Pittsburgh I started a M.M. at the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music, and started an Artist Diploma before my professional career took off.

While I was in school, I really didn’t have an overarching vision of where my career was going, or even of what it meant to have a career in opera.  I approached the work in a job-to-job manner, taking the work when I could, looking for it or temping when I didn’t have anything lined up.  Everything was defined by potiential on-stage opportunities, and I didn’t know how to  focus on what was required of me to achieve and maintain an operatic career.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Things changed for me between 1999 and 2001. In 1999 I accepted an artist apprenticeship with Virginia Opera, which allowed my wife (Laurie – married since 1995) and I to move back to Virginia and be closer to family. The workload was pretty heavy, and few allowances were made for me to keep auditioning, so I dropped off the radar for a full year. That lack of momentum seemed to take some of the air out of my sails. We moved to Richmond, my hometown, after that year, but I was still struggling with breaking into the larger scene.

After 9/11, I noticed that singers with bigger names were taking smaller gigs, and the effect was trickling down and bumping me out of more and more opportunities.  Everything dried up for me. I was already temping and it was getting longer and longer between gigs. I had a friend in the business that I believed was “in my corner.” He was a great person, gave me great advice and sent work my way, but when I had no work I called him searching for what to do and I didn’t get the “hang in there, you’re a great singer” message I was looking for. So I found myself with no prospects and no perceived value in the industry. That was an extremely difficult time in my life. I felt that the industry that had once been so welcoming and supportive had turned its back on me, so I decided to turn my back on it. I entered the conventional workforce with two very impractical music degrees.

Fast-Forward to Today

I am an Insurance Agent in a small independent agency. I work for a  family friend. I am close to my family, my wife’s family and I’m in the city where I grew up. While some with an artistic bent may find the 9-5 workday stifling, it turned out to be pretty comfortable for me. I enjoyed having a regular schedule. I was home on weekends. I could actually go to church and I made enough money that church no longer was a job.  The industry is secure, my position is secure and my income is secure. I have a fair amount of flexibility. I go home every night and my work stays at the office. I also have the advantage of working with a very nice group of people.

Another unexpected benefit was realizing how self-centered I had become. With all the constant striving for self-improvement and struggling for the approval of the industry elites my focus was completely on myself and my voice. Everything was secondary. No small wonder that I saw many performers’ marriages fail. I even heard of a world-traveled singer I admired lament that he does not see his family enough and he may settle down and teach somewhere. This was someone who was at a place I was once trying to claw my way up to!  Throughout the process, my wife Laurie was extremely supportive. While I found out later she harbored some resentment from time to time that I was hanging out at a bar in Shreveport or by a pool in St. Louis while she was back at home hard at work, she never let it show. Because of my early success in the business, she had some confidence in the future of my career. When singing opportunities started to decline it was a financial necessity for me to pick up the slack by finding other work…had I resisted that, we likely would’ve had issues.

I have found quite a few “retired” opera singers like me even in a relatively small city like Richmond. Many of them are often inspired to put together concerts and find various other means of artistic expression. I have even met a few people who have never been professional but have pursued their interest in classical singing; school administrators that produce shows, music ministers that conduct community choirs, an IT guy who has a huge operatic voice and his wife that run his own extracurricular music school for kids including a remarkable program for autistic students. They make their own opportunites,  and while opportunities for performance together are rare, they happen often enough and they’re a great pleasure. My own approach to singing has changed from trying the grab the next gig to doing my best, and personifying my own creativity and inspirations. I am empowered by this, of course, because I’m not shackled by the fact that I have to worry about my next singing gig.

As a result of this soul searching and career change, I can say that I am a lot happier. I believe one has to have a special desire to live the life of an opera singer and that is ultimately something I do not fully have. It was fun for a while, sure! But I found I could not build my life around it. I’d much rather go out to dinner with my wife, help my kids with their homework, volunteer at my church consistently and play volleyball and softball when I want. Then when I sing, I sing for fun. I sing only music that sparks my passion and curiosity. The people I strive to impress are my audience. If I make an odd choice or make a mistake, who cares?! I don’t – just as long as I’m still having a good time.

My Two Cents

Talk to someone who is where you want to be. I believe this applies whether you are in med school, law school or a music conservatory. Find someone who has achieved what you want to achieve who will tell you what inspires them and what brings them happiness in their career and also what are the negative aspects that have to be overcome. The more clearly you can define the vision of your aspiriations the more effectively you can decide what you want and the more easily you will be able to deal with obstacles as they arise. AND leave yourself open to the option of taking a different path if that’s what it turns out you really want.

As I get older, it seems to me that people will always do what they want to do. The funny thing is that they often, very often, don’t know what they want. (Example: When I was 19 there was no way I could know that I would WANT to be home on Thursday nights to help my daughters study for tests because it’s thrilling to see them learn.) That’s a little different than having what they want to have. Everyone wants to HAVE a million dollars, but only a few really want to MAKE a million dollars. If that’s what I wanted I’d have a financial degree and would be a hedge-fund manager that works 100 hours a week and never sees his family and probably has a heart attack before hitting 40. Some people want that, most don’t though. So many people strive for things they think they want and want they think they should want according to other people and if they actually get it they are confused and don’t know why it doesn’t make them happy. The only way sometimes to figure out you don’t want something is to try it. I tried opera and thought I wanted it. It was hard for me to be open to something else at the time, but I figured it out and learned a lot about myself (And I’m still learning.) If I had continued my singing career, there would have been so many more things I would have missed.

Questions for James? Hit the comments!

Mark Bradley Miller

Mark is a professional photographer, specializing in portraiture, and more specifically headshots. (Those pictures that professional singers use as part of their calling card.) Here’s how he found his path:

Where did you go to school? (Please include program of study, and degree awarded)

I studied music education (vocal certification) at the Crane School of Music, part of the State University of New York at Potsdam. I earned a Master of  Music degree from Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh in vocal performance.

What drew you to your chosen field?

My high school music teacher, Diane Abrahamian MacNally was an amazing human being. I was just floating around school – there wasn’t anything special about me, nothing I did really made me stand out. I auditioned for the school musical because there was a girl that I had a crush on, and because any guy that auditioned was guaranteed to get in. One day I was goofing around and really sang out – and caught the teacher’s ear. She  jumped on my potential, and I trusted her enough to do anything she asked. I always wanted to give back, to do for another student what she had done for me.

I got a degree in music education with a vocal performance focus from SUNY Potsdam, and while I felt I learned my craft, I felt like I was unprepared to teach. I wanted to perform, and so I applied for grad degrees at NEC, Curtis and CMU; I wanted the opportunity to study both operatic and musical theater literature.

After graduation from CMU, for several years I made the majority of my living as a singing actor. Sure, I took some supplemental jobs (hotels, restaurants, catering), but I was doing tours South Pacific, Beauty and the Beast, regional theater & off-Broadway shows. But the closer I got to Broadway work, the more elusive it became…and the harder it got when the in-room confirmations didn’t materialize into contracts (Or worse, when the contracts dissolved.)

In October of 2004, I had a turning point. I had a small operation, and planned to take the following holidays off, intending to re-evaluate the whole career thing after the first of the year. But something went wrong with the operation, and I was in the hospital for 5 days with collapsed lungs – resulting in 50% of their original capacity. I felt like my decision was made for me.

I had a gig that I had been hired for before the surgery that I was committed to – a production of The Fantasticks in North Carolina. I struggled – the breath that was so fundamental to my technique, to my ease onstage was gone. I made it through the production, but realized that I couldn’t do it anymore, nor did I feel the same desire and drive I once had.

So, what did you do next?

A friend in Charlotte asked me to help decorate her beautiful 100 year old home. I had done similar projects for friends and family, but she finally said “You’re so good at it, and so happy doing it, why don’t you do it?” I couldn’t think of a good reason not to.

I went to work at Marshall Watson Interiors, a design firm on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. It was a small firm specializing in residential design. I remember applying: I had no formal training in design, but had a little portfolio of the work I had done for the people I knew, and a friend got me an interview. I got the job and worked there for almost three years. After living a freelance performer’s life, the predictability of the schedule was wonderful! I had a full-time job, a place to go every day, something to do. I didn’t have to be self-motivated. And, most importantly, I felt really needed. There were always so many people clamoring for singing gigs that they never felt secure: I knew that there was always someone waiting for the opportunity, who would kill to be in my shoes.

While the schedule and the work were both really gratifying for a while, both the predictability and eventually the lack of autonomy started to wear on me after a while. When I started feeling really frustrated, I began taking photography classes. I found it really gratifying, and spent a year doing it as a creative outlet before deciding to make it my vocation, rather than an avocation.  I’m currently a headshot photographer, working with people who are, in many ways, in my old shoes. I love shooting performers (with a camera, obviously!) My education background and work as a vocal coach helps me to see the best in people; it was always one of my strengths, and I can capture those positive aspects of them on “film”, as representations of their best selves. And my experience in the business comes in handy: I know what’s expected and how best to portray them.

The freelance schedule really fits me better than the traditional office schedule did: I needed the structure for a while, but I truly love project-based employment. And I love being my own boss! I’m confident with money, so that helps – my dad gave me a good foundation, both in finance and in being handy – and I rely on all of those skills as the owner of my own business.

The thing that I miss the most from performing was the family atmosphere: being in a cast, a group of people with lots of commonality. There was an instant connection on a deep level. And those rare moments when I was onstage, really creating and connecting with the audience – I miss those, too. But I get some of those moments back in shooting, in creating those strong, and very quick, connections to people help me to parse out how to show them in their best light. I get positive feedback, rather than the cold “thank you” of the audition room. And I get to be creative on a daily basis. But mostly, I feel that I’m doing something worthwhile: by staging a comfortable, relaxed shoot, having a good time, and then seeing my clients so pleased with the end result solidifies that my choices are worthwhile, and what I do has value.

Any advice or parting shots?

I don’t regret studying music: it’s made me uniquely suited for the professional niche in which I find myself. I count myself lucky to have been successful in three very different creative career paths, and to know that I can carry forward all three in some manner throughout my life. Nothing’s off the table.

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