I have been a part of “the music world” for nearly three decades, first as a student, then a professional pianist, and now as a singer, songwriter, and leader of a jazz group. In all of those years, I’ve seen this strange thing happening again and again. There’s this Standard, this idea that the industry (and society) has about what talent sounds like. Musicians are expected to be either technically flawless, or they are produced, filtered, and edited until their sound fits into a box someone has decided is acceptable. Until it sounds just like everyone else. Artistry is meant to be a vehicle for personal expression, but the industry and academia have turned the act of finding our authentic voice into a measuring stick for comparing ourselves, and our art, to others.
This is a constant theme with women, in particular. There’s a reason why I am one of so few female jazz instrumentalists, or why the world doesn’t have many non-standard female vocalists like a Tom Waits or a Bob Dylan. It’s not just my experience as a woman, though, The Standard goes so far beyond that. I’ve heard stories from musicians of all genders, all experience levels; students of mine, my bandmates, people I look up to as being successful and talented - we’ve all run into this at some point or another. And the more I talk about it, the more others come out of the woodwork admitting to the same exact experience. An instructor, producer or some other seemingly “powerful” voice wanting to take our personal, intimate sound and flatten out all of the imperfections. Or not giving us the time of day because of our gender, our race, our voice, or our technical ability, and questioning why we want to perform at all. I can’t think of a single artist or musician, regardless of ability, popularity, level of success, or reputation who hasn’t had this happen to them. I want to know why people aren’t talking about this issue more honestly.
I’ve felt this myself a number of times over the course of my career as a musician. I nearly didn’t go to graduate school because I was too consumed comparing myself to others, basing my self worth off other people’s opinions, and thinking that other musicians were just naturally better than me. At times it has seemed like I could never catch up. But I worked my ass off to hone the skills to become first a classical pianist and then a jazz pianist. And I continue to put in that labor, because that’s what has counted in the end--the hard work.
And then five years ago, I began writing and singing my own songs. I already had a successful career playing piano. This wasn’t something I needed to do, except that it was. Without realizing it at the time, the call to write and sing my own songs came from a deep need to discover my own authentic self through my voice. Something inside me knew I needed empowering, and that my original music was the way to do it. That’s when I created my jazz pop group, Sarca. Almost right away, I started questioning myself. Every piece of feedback we received as we recorded our first album - both positive and negative - only reinforced that I was different, not The Standard. And if I wasn’t going to meet those expectations, did I really want to do this?
Because that’s the result of The Standard. It makes us all fearful that we’re not technically perfect, that we’re not good enough, that we just need more training or more time, or to let someone else, someone better, perform our work.
How many people out there have felt they had something to say, or a song they wanted to sing, but walked away because they knew they were not what the world expected? The answer is too many. And when that happens, we all lose out. I know I’m not alone in the belief that art and music are only made better when there are more shades, more nuances, more individualities, quirks, and totally unique stories. Music, when it’s raw and vulnerable, makes us more real.
Art is a process - we learn and grow over time. So here’s my vision for the world: what if that process was about finding your own authentic voice, rather than comparing yourself to someone else, or to some box you think you’re supposed to fit into? What if it was just about being the best, most authentic version of you?
I’ve since left Sarca behind to perform as a solo artist, but my mission remains true: to be honest about my process. To be vulnerable and let everyone see me learning and figuring things out in addition to witnessing my successes, accomplishments, and confidence. Both are real for every artist, and I want us to talk about that more. If have something to say, I can’t wait until I’m perfect to share it, and neither should you.
If I have a voice, I have to use it. If I have a song, I have to sing it.
