by on

Last October, while getting ready eparing for a performance in a park, I surprised the makeup lady who had asked me if I was nervous. I replied that I was not nervous, because I got used to accepting unexpected events. She kindly said: “Oh, but I am sure there will be no unexpected events.” “Of course there will”, I thought, but since I had to be quiet so she could apply the lipstick, I kept my mouth wide shut.

I did not want to sound pessimistic, blasé or anything like that. I just knew that something would go wrong, simply because it was a live performance, in a public place. For starters, you cannot control the weather (although humanity has systematically proven that it is possible to make it considerably worse).

What experience has taught me is that live performances are subject to unforeseen events (of course, studio recordings are too, but in these cases, repetitions and corrections are made until the desired state is reached, and if you are interested in recordings, you will probably like to read about my most recent recording experience, reported here), they are is a kind of playground for the unexpected. The stage is a place where every corner invites spontaneity and surprise. Good and bad ones, of course.

In my first live performances I was nervous precisely because I wanted to control everything that happened, from the technical part, through the musicians, to the interaction with the audience; I wanted everything to be rehearsed to the millimeter. This desire for meticulous control stemmed from my deep passion for music and an unwavering commitment to providing an unforgettable experience, but despite its noble origins, this type of behavior can be quite harmful in the end.

The very thought of an unforeseen was responsible for a good amount of totally unnecessary anxiety, until I understood that live performances are unpredictable, it does not matter who is on stage. It is not a question of being a professional or not. Even the performer with the largest team and infinite financial resources will still be acting under the influence of several factors that he simply cannot control. And if we are talking about a festival, with several acts, the unpredictability factor increases exponentially.

I realized that this exaggerated fear of the unexpected was limiting and, above all, very frustrating. It held me back from experiencing the richness of the stage experience. Worst of all, it kept me from having fun while performing, and darling, if you are not having fun on stage, neither is the audience.

Learning to appreciate the beauty of uncertainty can be a difficult exercise, but the more you practice, the easier it becomes, and once you learned the ropes, nothing can make you nervous anymore. In fact, I believe it is a dynamic process that extends not only throughout a career, but also into our daily lives. By accepting and embracing the unexpected, I have become not only a more confident performer, but also a less fearful human being.

Let us not forget that the great Nina Simone once stated that freedom is to live without fear. And this is the kind of lesson that you take from the stage to life.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

by on

One of the most undervalued untapped markets for advertisin is the condo meeting. A vast, unexplored land teeming with all kinds of people… until the meeting starts. From this moment on, all types melt into just one: the self-centered owner/tenant who tries to pass an improvement that suits him, as if it were for a common cause.

Performances are often grandiose, but over the years I’ve learned not to be affected by anything that happens at a condo meeting, especially after the pandemic turned them into Zoom meetings, which means logging into an account and using a username that will be for all to see during the meeting.

In the early days of virtual meetings, I uploaded a profile picture to my account (can´t remember where or when), but since all the meetings I´ve attended so far required an open camera, I simply forgot abot the profile pic… until my last condo meeting started.

After a short while being able to see everybody´s face (“new normal” equivalent to meet and greet), participants were asked to turn off their cameras, in order to avoid further connection failures. And there it was: my profile picture. The only smiling face amidst a sea of cold initials.

The problem was not the picture. As a matter of fact, it is a very good one for a jazz singer: good lighting, in front of a mic and all, but not exactly appropriate for a condo meeting avatar. Besides, I always tried to keep a very low profile. Most of my neighbors don’t even know I sing. Rehearsals at my place, for example, only happen on rare occasions, and I always make sure we’re not too loud or playing too long.

All this care for nothing. Just like that, I was busted at a condo meeting.

Jazz-shamed (and despite the scwitched off camera), I kept my expression as haughty as possible until the end of the meeting. As silly as it may sound, the situation was quite uncomfortable for me. “What would my neighbors say?”, I kept mentally repeating to myself.

Suddenly, I remembered that I used to sign academic essays with my other surname, to separate the researcher from the singer, something that makes no sense at all for me today. So why on Earth should I bother about my neighbors opinions? Why?

The truth is: I shouldn’t. So, I didn’t.

Be seeing you!

G.F.