Category Archives: music

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You Are What You Are Reading

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We’ve all heard the phrase “you are what you eat,” right? Lately I find what I’m reading is showing up in my life way more than anything I’m eating is showing up in my appearance. And it’s really cool…

 

Example #1: This One’s Pretty Obvious.

After reading several books on managing money (authors like David Chilton, Gail Vaz-Oxlade, David Bach, Robert Kiyosaki, Dani Johnson, and George S Clason; also, listening to mp3s by T Harv Eker) I’ve begun making some serious positive changes in the ways that I handle my finances. I was pleasantly surprised that my piece on the dollars-per-use shopping rule was so well-received, but I never thought of myself as someone who others would ask for money advice from until very recently. Now maybe it’s not surprising to most of you that after I became more educated on a subject, evidence of that education began appearing in my life (I paid off one credit card this year and I’m on track to being debt-free by age 30, yay!), but read on…

 

Example #2: Now it Gets More Interesting!

I’m finding that biographies are impacting my daily life too, like when I read Kitty Carson’s biography on Oprah Winfrey this summer. I’m well-aware of Oprah-the-lifestyle-guru-and-media-mogul, but reading this book taught me a lot about Oprah-the-broadcaster-and-interviewer, and all of a sudden – seemingly out of nowhere – I was given the opportunity to do a live webcast interview of Destra Garcia, during one of my best weeks in recent memory (which I also blogged about). I’m not under any illusion that I’m on Oprah’s level because of this one gig, but to have that experience with one of the biggest soca artists in the world sure made me feel I could do some pretty big, impressive, Oprahesque things!

A great live interview with DESTRA

A great live interview with DESTRA

 

Example: #3: From Interesting to Awesome.

Let’s talk about Dorothy Dandridge. I love her story and her image and her legacy so much that it’s on my list to do a blog piece just about her, but here’s a quick synopsis for those of you who don’t know the name and haven’t already left me to go Google her.

The beautiful, elegant Dorothy Dandridge

The beautiful, elegant Dorothy Dandridge

Dorothy Dandridge was an African-American singer and actress who rose above numerous personal tragedies and professional obstacles to become the first black person nominated for a Best Actress Academy Award (1954, for Carmen Jones). After the nomination, her career plateaued and then declined, and just as it seemed she was on the comeback trail again, she died of a drug overdose. She blazed a trail for hundreds of other performers, including Halle Berry who played Dandridge in the HBO movie Introducing Dorothy Dandridge and eventually became the first African-American to win the award for which Dorothy had made history by being nominated.

Here she is again! Just gorgeous.

Here she is again! Just gorgeous.

So what does this have to do with me? I kid you not: things in my life have started to pop up which mirror things I’ve been reading about in her life. (I read Donald Bogle’s biography of her three times before  returning it to the library this month, and did some online research too.) For one thing, the descriptions of the Dandridge Sisters (Dorothy, her sister Vivian, and their friend Etta Jones) harmonizing together and getting rave reviews definitely stuck with me because, as some of you know, deep down inside I would love to be part of a small singing group. Oooh, how exciting it must have been to sing with the big names of the time, like Nat King Cole or Jimmy Lunceford and his band. I would want to be the girl in the middle, like Dorothy was. And then what happened? Again seemingly out of nowhere, I was offered the chance to harmonize in a trio as backup for Lorne Morris, with several very talented musicians accompanying us… and guess who was in the middle?

L to R: Etta Jones, Dorothy Dandridge, Vivian Dandridge

L to R: Etta Jones, Dorothy Dandridge, Vivian Dandridge

L to R: Kelly Holiff, me, Kate Etienne, Lorne Morris

L to R: Kelly Holiff, me, Kate Etienne, Lorne Morris (Gareth Parry is on guitar in the background, and the DOP Martin is behind Lorne with the Steadicam)

Another similarity that made itself evident was the acting connection. Dorothy always had her sights set on a career as a leading lady of the screen. I felt for much of this year that my own career was at a plateau, but while reading and rereading the biography, I found myself going to multiple acting auditions per week. (My Carmen Jones hasn’t come along yet, but hey, it didn’t happen overnight for Dorothy either!)

And finally, one of the most triumphant periods in Dorothy’s career was her travelling nightclub act – she sang and gave wonderful stage shows, which the audiences loved night after night, accompanied by talented pianists like Phil Moore (another African-American groundbreaker in the arts and entertainment scene). And wouldn’t you know it, last weekend I signed a contract to perform for two months at a resort in Dubai as part of a duo – the other performer being a talented piano player who also sings – whaaat?!? Awesome!

I’ll release more details on that gig later, and will most definitely be blogging from overseas. But all this to say, even more than what you watch on a screen or hear in your earbuds, I find that what you read in a book in your hands has a way of showing up in your life in ways you weren’t expecting. (Whether this also happens when you’re reading my blog, I have no clue lol – you’ll have to let me know!)

10,000 Hours

learning, life, music, singing, writing, , , , , , , , , , ,

There is an awesome book by Malcolm Gladwell called Outliers, and one of the “that-makes-total-sense-so-why-am-I-almost-surprised-to-read-this-in-print” revelations I took away from it was his “ten thousand hour rule.” In summary, Gladwell points out that 10,000 hours of dedicated practice are required to become a master at anything, and he uses numerous examples (most notably Bill Gates, who spent more than 10,000 hours programming before launching Microsoft, and the Beatles, who spent more than 10,000 hours playing together in Europe before launching in America) to prove this point.

If this huge amount of time and effort is such an important difference between someone who is really really really good at something and someone who is great at it, I wondered, how do I stack up? Good news and bad news: I have no idea.

As a singer, there is no way I could tell you how many hours I’ve spent singing, whether for fun or for practice or both. I started in the church children’s choir; let’s assume that was 30 minutes of practice per week for one year for about 1,500 minutes, or 25 hours not counting performances (I’m lowballing all of these estimates). I remember schoolyard singing competitions and that’s probably worth another 10 hours; at least 100 hours from the time I sang in a gospel band and 40 from the Jazz Ensemble at Baythorn and 150 or so from actual in-class singing at the same school over two years. Plus 20 or so for other performances; I was in the arts program, after all. That’s 345 hours before I started high school. Between the Concert Choir and the York Region Children’s Chorus and Voices of Praise, my high school gospel choir, there had to be another 360 hours for a total of 705 hours of instructed singing time, plus performances. I was in university by the time I started with a vocal coach and got thorough one-on-one vocal training … at least 300 hours’ worth … which finally puts me past 1,000. A tenth of the way there.

This pic is from 2007 (the one up top is from 2009). Even back then I felt like “Um, I’ve been doing this for a pretty long time already…”

Since then, I’ve added hundreds more hours in the form of rehearsals for musical theatre productions, a TV shoot, and dozens (maybe hundreds) of live shows. But what about the (literally) countless hours I spent just singing, not gearing up for any particular piece or performance? In the car, in the house when no one else was home (my favourite), doing dishes, leading youth services, sitting in the pews, at auditions, at the club, at fetes, playing mas, playing with my cousins and friends, writing songs, recording songs, teaching songs to other people, watching movies, learning dance routines, waiting to be picked up from work, waiting to fall asleep? And wait, wait — Gladwell points out that the Beatles played those 10,000+ hours together and it made a big difference. Does that mean I have to discount the hours I spent singing with other singers, or singing along to a radio or album? Or only count the hours I’ve spent singing my own songs that I wrote myself?

Okay, maybe it would be easier to count something other than my singing hours. Like writing; I’m better at writing than I am at singing, in my opinion. But when I considered that math, I stopped before even starting. And I concluded, as I have many times before, that my chosen professions are not linear so it usually doesn’t make sense to try to define or measure my progress in a linear way.

I remember feeling vaguely disadvantaged by this when I was younger. People who want to be chefs or architects or marine biologists have narrower career paths, from what I can tell — although I’m sure students in those paths have to stress over their grades way more than I ever did, so I’m not saying they have it easy at all. What I am suggesting is that when you have to learn on the run and make up a lot of it as you go, the trip might take longer than you thought it would and that fact itself is often enough to slow you down a little bit. The goal may be as bright and visible as it ever was, but the mountain range standing between you and it would be less intimidating if you had, say, a clear map. Or a tour guide. Or a clicker to track the amount of steps you’d taken. Because to the naked eye, your goal still looks very, very far away.

Lofty goal? For sure. Let's see how close I get in the next 12 months =)

Lofty goal? For sure. Let’s see how close I get in the next 12 months =)

Back to the timeline: I wrote my first song in 1996 (it might have been 1995, but again, I’m lowballing so nobody can accuse me of blowing things out of proportion when I’m a big deal) and that’s when I decided to become a famous singer-songwriter. As a kid, I figured I had all the time in the world to get over being shy, learn to sing better, lose weight, master the on-camera interview. Now, as a trained, educated, hungry, hardworking, and (luckily) photogenic adult with hundreds of original songs but no deal, no placements, one incomplete album, and only one radio single, I do have moments where I grope for something “real” to convince me that I’ve made a good amount of progress, distracted though I may have been by things like getting a degree and paying bills. It’s in moments like these that I turn to rules like Gladwell’s, and then turn away again. After all, I’m not yet convinced that I need to become a “master” pop artist, and quite frankly I don’t want to become quite as big as Bill Gates if I have a choice in the matter. So 10,000 hours, while they will accumulate in time, really don’t need to serve as a marker of how far along the path I’ve come.

But it’s good to remind myself that I still have some walking to do.

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Three Things Non-Artists Should Never Ask their Artist Friends

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I’m hoping you’ll forgive me for being a bit tongue-in-cheek here. If that’s even the right phrase. Whatever!

Have you ever tried to communicate with a person who spoke the same language as you, but your backgrounds were so different you didn’t understand each other? That’s how I feel sometimes when I’m talking to someone who knows very little about auditions, onscreen or onstage productions, or the studio recording process.

The first barrier to communication here is that the other person is probably a regular enjoyer and consumer of entertainment. So when we start discussing the creation of music or TV or live shows, they often feel like they know what they’re talking about. They usually don’t.

The second barrier is that it’s damn near impossible for a performer/artist to be emotionally detached from their professional results. So my well-meaning friend might ask me about a recent shoot or tryout just out of curiosity, with no idea that he’s grating on my nerves because I’m still allowing myself to feel upset that I didn’t do well, or wondering when they’re going to announce who got the part, or whatever.

While this divide will never completely disappear, I thought I’d contribute a few tips to the “normal” folks out there to keep in mind when you’re interacting with someone like me. Here are three things NOT to ask your artist and/or performer friends …

 

"If I had a quarter for every time I heard that ... I wouldn't be a starving artist"

“If I had a quarter for every time I heard that … I wouldn’t be a starving artist”

#1 – “How did the audition go?”

Right off the bat, let me say that artists will ask this of other artists all, the, time. This is because they understand the process firsthand, and it might even be a matter of comparing experiences auditioning for the same person or production. But if you aren’t an artist, it might be best to keep your mouth shut until your artist friend volunteers information about it.

You know how it feels when you’re job-hunting? Sometimes exciting or challenging, but more often frustrating and tiring? That’s how auditioning is, but with more of a personal buy-in and in some ways more pressure, and typically with less prep time. If I have just delivered my song and/or lines to strangers and interacted with them while continuously asking myself “Is this going well?” and you’re now asking me “Did you get it? … What do you mean, you don’t know? … Well, when will they tell you? … What do you mean, you don’t know?” … You’re not likely to get a smile from me. Not only am I (because I’m a tortured perfectionist) already knee-deep in self-admonishment about things I should have done differently; I’m also trying in vain to stop thinking about it because there’s no point rehashing anything that just happened and I’ve either got to focus on my next audition or focus on something else to distract me from the fact that I don’t have any other auditions lined up yet. Don’t worry. If the audition went well, you can trust me to tell you about it. (And even then, it’s best not to keep asking me whether I’ve heard back yet. Just try to do what I try to do and stop thinking about it.)

 

#2 – “Can I come with you next time?”

I get it. You think set life and studio life are glamorous and interesting. Sometimes that’s true! But I’d much rather you get your fix of celebrity (hahaha!) fun by doing something other than following me to work. The most obvious reason for this is that I want you to see a finished product, not the often-ugly process behind it. I don’t necessarily want you to hear the ugly process either — even I can’t stand listening to the playback from my takes in the recording booth half the time, so why would I share that dirty laundry with you?? The other reasons sound something like this …

One of my closest friends came with me to a recording session when we were in university. (Bless her heart! I think I invited her, back in the day before I knew better.) By the time we finally got home we had heard the friggin song five bazillion times and caught what sleep we could wrapped up in our coats on the dirty carpet of the studio. Sounds like fun, right? She wisely chose not to attend the video shoot for that song, which ended around 5am and was not nearly as fun as I’d hoped. Laughing at things that no one else found funny (like coffee being spilled on the equipment, and the video girls continually giving stinkeye to the camera and the singer) was all that kept me sane that night.

You know those behind-the-scenes features that let fans get a look at the creative process? Trust me; in most cases, you don’t want a closer look than that. If I feel it’s important to have you there because you’re part of the project, or the song is about you, or whatever, I will ask you to come in at a mutually convenient time. And if you choose to ignore this advice and pester me until you do end up on set or in the studio, don’t complain about how bored you are. I knew you’d be bored on set because I’ve spent hours being bored on set for you.

 

#3 – “Can you do this as a freebie?”

This is a big one. Your photographer friend, your cousin who plays in a jazz trio, your professional dancer girlfriend, and your uncle who does work on the radio probably all think very highly of you. But it puts them in an extremely uncomfortable position when you ask or expect them to do those things for you (or worse, for someone they don’t even know) without pay.

If a free or discounted service or product is offered by the artist, that’s one thing. That means they’ve already considered the financial loss, the potential gain, and the value of them offering that to you as a gift. And just like in non-artistic fields, if you don’t agree with the rate, you’re free to negotiate or look elsewhere. So know that this tip isn’t about those circumstances.

This tip is about assuming that because I love singing, I should sing at your event for free. After all, you love writing short stories, and one day you gave me one you wrote just for me and you never asked me for a penny. Here’s the thing — if your income is derived from your nine-to-five(s) and not from your short stories, your art is a hobby. Mine is a profession.

There are lots of other reasons to refuse these requests. Your uncle might belong to a union which has rules against him doing voice work for free. Your cousin has put more time and money than you are aware into their art (and so have the other musicians in that trio). Your girlfriend may be losing money just by attending your party instead of being paid to dance  somewhere else that night. And if your friend’s pictures look good enough to capture your neighbour’s wedding, doesn’t he deserve compensation? So while we’re still new and learning, by all means, let’s talk discounted rates. But when we’ve reached the professional level, please respect that the same way you respect the work and rates of professionals in other areas. (While we’re on the subject, one of my singer friends recently told me that she’s singing for free at a family member’s wedding because her mom accepted the booking on her behalf. Do you know any doctors whose mothers  arrange for them to do unpaid surgeries as a favour for someone else? Give me a break!)

 

Wow, this ended up being a long piece! But I hope this has helped some of my people … my talented, hardworking, often underappreciated, sometimes overly idealistic but nevertheless brave people … to be better understood by the normal population. =)

Me, Taylor Evans and Jazz Testolini backstage at The Opera House. I adore singing with these two!

I really would love to be part of a group …

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Remember doing group work in school?

Yeah. I couldn’t stand it. I felt like I was always the student who did more than her share of work because someone had to overcompensate for the people who weren’t motivated by good grades or high achievement. (And for the record, no, good grades aren’t everything. But in school, they’re the main measuring tool. I was usually upset to receive anything lower than 90%.)

So any time the idea of singing in a group came up, I was quick to dismiss it. I grew up LOVING vocal groups like TLC and Boyz II Men, and still do, but I couldn’t picture myself as a member of a group. Chattrisse, in my mind, was a solo act. A one-woman success story. My African name at the time was Zenzele, which translates to “she will do it herself,” and I really wasn’t looking for any company onstage. Having to deal with multiple egos and personalities, running the risk of becoming a backup performer while the lead singer hogs the spotlight, and then having to split the paycheque between two or three or five people on top of all that??? No thanks.

I guess back then I still believed that you could do big, huge, world-shaking, record-breakingly awesome things on your own. And the further away I get from my school years and their haunting memories of “group” “work,” the more I realize that having a team not only makes most goals more easily attainable, it also lets you have way more fun along the way.

For example, I did a theatre tour earlier this year with two fellow cast members, and the energy we brought to the stage when all three of us were “on” was awesome. The backstage hijinks were also way more fun than if I were just noticing something funny with no one to share it with. And when one of us was feeling sick or extra tired, there were two other people there who could lend extra support. (Shoutout to Madeleine Jullian and Phil Poirier, I had a blast!)

Madeleine/Mollie, Chattrisse/Puppareena, Phil/Twitter - our last show

Madeleine/Mollie, Chattrisse/Puppareena, Phil/Twitter – our last show

Have you ever danced a solo? I’m still slightly terrified of that (working on it). But dancing that same piece with two other performers feels wicked! And honestly, as a singer, one of the best sounds in the world is your voice harmonizing with other voices.

So while I haven’t completely changed my mind about being in a group … for example, I’m not seeking group members and if I were I would try to create something where all the performers share the spotlight, taking turns singing lead on different singles … I’m not totally opposed to it anymore. It might be fun. It might be a ton of fun. And if it doesn’t work out, leaving a group has been a great launch to a solo career for lots of people.  ;-)

Oh, I almost forgot: the picture up top is of me, Taylor Evans and Jazz Testolini backstage at The Opera House. I adore singing with these two! I don’t know how long we’d last as a group though, lol! xoxo

Chattrisse-online-F cropped

Grinning from Ear to Ear!

acting, celebration, dance, learning, life, mas and carnival, music, people, singing, writing, , , , , , , , , , ,

Phew!

So I’m noticing a trend here and I’m not mad at this at alllll: as the weather gets colder, my career heats up. Last fall I had a spree of auditions and bookings, and sure it’s still summer right now but that thermometer says fall is coming back real soon! Awesome things are happening. Here’s a page out of my dayplanner to prove that when it rains amazingness, it POURS…

Monday July 29: audition for an out-of-town singing gig.

Tuesday July 30: audition for a movie starring Whoopi Goldberg, and I made progress in my ongoing search for the right manager.

Wednesday July 31: had an awesome time on an awesome boat ride with old and new friends, and some extremely attractive new acquaintances (hey, all work and no play would make Chattrisse a dull girl); and I got asked to interview Destra, the queen of soca, for a live worldwide audience via Caribbean Connections TV.

Thursday, August 1: I launched my blog (yep, this one – yay!!) and the wonderful Lindsay Holung, a fellow Ryerson RTA grad, recorded me and the wonderful Hollywood Jade doing one of his routines from his Urbanesque class (footage coming soon, I hope).

Friday, August 2: I got to interview Destra, the queen of soca, for a live worldwide audience via Caribbean Connections TV (I’m still so excited! Again, footage coming soon, I hope, lol!).

A great live interview with DESTRA

A great live interview with DESTRA

Saturday, August 3: Caribana! Played mas in an absolutely gorgeous costume with Carnival Nationz (for pics and a summary of the day, read this).

Sunday, August 4: Surprise – guess who was the SUNshine Girl the day after the big parade! And then a huge fete to finish off the jump-up long weekend.

Published in the Toronto Sun - August 4 2013. "When she's not jumping up, Chattrisse dreams big..." they even quoted my love for KES the Band!

Published in the Sunday Sun – August 4 2013. “When she’s not jumping up, Chattrisse dreams big…” they even quoted my love for KES the Band!

And that was just, one, week. Love it!!!

Stay tuned for even more big announcements, coming up soon!

(Oh man, I don’t know how I can sleep at nights. Eee!)

Hope you’re all having an incredible summer too!!!

On set for a Divine Brown video shoot ... the first time I was ever paid to dance ;-)

Singer who Moves Well

acting, dance, learning, life, music, people, singing, writing, , , , , ,

Those of you in the world of musical theatre, or anywhere else where triple threats can be found, can probably guess what this post is about.

I love to dance; I have as long as I can remember; I’ve spent lots of money and lots of time taking dance classes and workshops, I’ve choreographed and taught others, and I even convinced my father that one night a week we should watch So You Think You Can Dance Canada instead of whatever sports channel he normally lives on.  (In fact, as I post this, I’m packing up my heels for a dance class later tonight – if the video footage I get is any good, I’ll share it later!)

But when people ask me what I do, I usually say “I’m a performer” or “I write and sing” or “I’m a singer and actor” … or, if I’m in a chatty mood, “I write and sing and act and dance.” I never just say “I’m a dancer.” I would kind of feel like a fraud if I did.

For one thing, Dancer Chattrisse is a baby compared to Singer Chattrisse (started singing in public around age 6) and Actor Chattrisse (first took classes at age 8) and Writer Chattrisse (who was born at age 10, an outgrowth of Poet Chattrisse who came on the scene around the same time as Actor Chattrisse but faded into obscurity much sooner). I never took a dance class in my life until I was the ripe old age of 12, and I doubt I will ever be able to do the splits; kicks and pretty turns are still challenges for me, and it was an absolute shock to discover in 2009 that my male dance partners could lift me into the air. So dance is still the area on my resume in which I have the least experience, and therefore the least confidence.

Besides that, many of my dancer friends have been dancing since they were toddlers. Baby ballerinas are not only adorable; by the time they’re in their teens and twenties, people who have been dancing for that long (with adequate passion and proper instruction) are not to be messed with! So I have this tendency to shrink away from calling myself a dancer because to me, they are dancers.

The labels “singer who moves well” and “ strong mover” are more appropriate, as dorky as they look and sound. And I’m not saying I’ll never consider myself to be a dancer dancer, because since 2010 dance has been creeping back up my list of priorities and presenting itself as an activity that really does keep me sane. It also makes me feel liberated and sexy in a way that singing and acting don’t always do … though that may be because the styles I’ve been learning and teaching lately are almost exclusively burlesque-tinged or Caribbean. Many of my professional friends and acquaintances have been nice enough to show that they really appreciate my talent as a dancer, and if the dancer dancers are calling me a dancer, hey, I must be getting closer to the point where I am one.

For now, though, let’s not ask me to do any triple pirouettes; let’s hold off on even the double turns. Isn’t that what body doubles are for??