(Originally written for The Utah Chamber Artists newsletter and website in September 2015)
I have a confession. For
years, I’ve been hanging on to a secret that has been the source of shame. Now
is the time to let it out: I dropped out of piano lessons at the age of 9.
Yes, friends, it’s true.
But it doesn’t stop there. I used to hate singing because of a traumatic
experience I endured at the hands of my piano teacher. Let’s go back in time.
My earliest music-related
memory was when I inadvertently played a chord on my grandmother’s piano at the
age of 5. With excitement, she ran over to me and said, “Nathan, do you know
what that is? It’s a chord!” I loved the reaction and validation my musical
mistake elicited from a woman who could ragtime rattle those ivory keys like a
rattlesnake can rattle…well…you get the point.
As the youngest of 8 eight
kids, and being a triplet on top of that, I saw the piano as my chance to step
out and do my own thing. From that time on, I would play piano on a regular
basis, much to the chagrin of my 6 brothers who wanted to watch TV without my
childhood compositions coming into creation in the background. After all, the
one TV we had and the piano were in the same room.
A few years later, I would
begin taking piano lessons from Denese Webster across the street. She was a
fantastic teacher and I was scheduled to play two songs at a recital within a
few months of starting my lessons. That’s when the proverbial crap hit the fan.
“Nathan, let’s have you do
the Beethoven for your first piece. For your second piece, I’d like you to do
something more upbeat and fun. How do you feel about singing and playing at the
same time?” It was the first time in my life that I was challenged to actually
sing in front of people.
So, there I was, at my
recital. The Beethoven went perfectly, but it didn’t matter. My second piece,
“The Boogie-Woogie Goose”, was coming up and I knew my brothers would give me a
hard time. I was encouraged to sing it with conviction and pep. The main note
from Mrs. Webster was “Louder, Nathan. LOUDER!”
As I assured the audience
through my performance that Aunt Rhody’s old gray goose was, in fact, not dead,
but was busy being a dancing fool, my faced flushed with embarrassment. My
brothers meant no harm, but I remember seeing them laugh throughout the song.
The lyrics were fun and silly, but I took their laughter as feedback. Ever
since then, I still have insecurities about my singing voice. I can take a
compliment on my piano playing or songwriting, but I somehow don’t think I’m as
deserving when it comes to singing. Darn, that silly goose.
Mrs. Webster turned me on
to a new possibility, however. The idea of singing and playing piano at the
same time led to a love of songwriting and arranging. Throughout junior high
and high school, I was much more comfortable being the accompanist than the
singing soloist, but I kept trying to find my voice. There was the time my
voice cracked on my “Bein’ Green” solo in 8th grade and the entire
choir chuckled behind me. But, in a bigger victory, there was the time I wrote
a song and performed it at my high school graduation, backed by the choir and
followed by a standing ovation from my graduating class. To this day, it’s one
of the best feelings I’ve ever had.
Since college, I developed
more of a singer-songwriter style. It was perfect. I could hide behind the
piano and sing in a quiet, comfortable style that perfectly suited my range.
But this style did not bode well for my first audition for The Utah Chamber
Artists. While I was told I had a lovely voice, I had much to learn. Phrasing,
diction, shaping my vowels, etc. Since then, as a member of this lovely group,
I’ve had to step out of my comfort zone and learn to use my voice in a new way.
A collaborative way. A beautiful way. No more hiding behind the piano for this
guy. “Louder, Nathan. LOUDER!”
I’ll end on a personal
note. As a 38 year-old member of the LDS church who happens to be gay, I’ve
only recently decided that it might be okay to date and eventually find
companionship. My personal journey to find balance, acceptance and peace began
in a similar way to my singing career. The once trembling, nervous boy who had
to sing about that stupid goose has evolved into a man who is comfortable
singing a solo or blending beautifully with the most talented group of
musicians around.
Similarly, I’m no longer
afraid to use my voice in other ways. I use my voice to speak out, to ask for
kindness and understanding, to challenge the status quo, to encourage
acceptance and change. I use my voice to express myself, to offer advice to a
friend in need, to make people laugh, to agree and to disagree. But perhaps the
most beautiful thing I do with the voice I’ve been given, as imperfect as it
may be, is touching lives through music.
Joining my UCA friends in
song is one of the most thrilling and joyful experiences I’ve ever had. Being
part of something like this has not only built my confidence with my own songs,
it has also affected my approach to life. My personal song is sweeter and fuller
as a result.
Guess I have Mrs. Webster
to thank. I’ll admit, I’m glad that goose isn’t dead.
Original post: http://www.utahchamberartists.org/2015/10/28/nate-why-i-sing/
Original post: http://www.utahchamberartists.org/2015/10/28/nate-why-i-sing/