When we use the term ‘stage presence,’ it is generally regarded as a quality of a performer to connect to the audience. Most people sitting in a concert or watching a show don’t know why, they just like the person performing. Whether or not, behind the scenes, the actor or musician is genuinely likable or not, the audience believes that they are, and many times (perhaps most times) they genuinely are.
Stage presence is an intangible attribute that seems to be innate to the individual. Some people, on or off the stage, are just difficult to like. Those with ‘stage presence’ seem to have that extra special quality that draws attention to themselves, not in an egotistical way, but rather in a way that declares, “Look at me, I have something important to say!”
At our music school in Midland, Texas we believe that music is more than song, it is relationships. And relationships are fostered through emotional connectivity.
Growing up, I was an introvert. I would rather stay inside and play than go out and run around with my friends. As I matured, I began to spend more time with my friends. When I devoted more time to practicing my instrument, I would make a decision to practice instead of socializing, not because I wanted to, but because I was willing to make the sacrifice.
Learning ‘stage presence,’ however, came more to me by way of example as I watched my father (who was a symphony conductor) perform. My mother took me and my sister to his concerts regularly, sitting on the front row of the concert-hall. I think I was around four or five years old for my first concert. I was mesmerized watching my father’s animations, spinning, waving his arms, almost dancing, to direct the massive group of people on the stage. The sounds were complex, at times loud, at times soft, but my father’s gyrations received most of my attention.
When I joined his orchestra at the age of thirteen, I learned to mimic his physical connection to the music. As I played in the first violin section, I couldn’t understand why anyone else wasn’t letting the music move them. I swayed and played passionately to the music. I felt connected to it in a deep way.
We encourage students at our music school in Midland, Texas to have a deep love of the music they are studying and performing.
Growing as a performer, I began to realize that, as much as I loved the music, there were nevertheless times that made performing difficult. Perhaps I was sick or excessively tired for some reason. Maybe certain relationships were strained, or some distressing event had happened, trying to pull my attention away from being entirely focused. I began to be aware that the emotion of the music was not always enough to stir my soul for a passionate performance. I was learning that my passions and emotions were under the control of my will to leverage them responsibly when it was necessary.
I discovered that I had to make a choice to evoke the meaning of the music, regardless of how I felt, or if I wanted to do it, at all.
Musical passion and ‘stage presence’ are similar, not exactly synonymous, but close.
“Have you ever watched a man in a conversational group who suddenly begins to gesture as he speaks? Soon he is talking fluently, sometimes brilliantly…The relation of physical activity to the mind is a close one…Would you believe it? There are four ways, and only four ways, in which we have contact with the world. We are evaluated and classified by these four contacts: what we do, how we look, what we say, and how we say it.” (The Quick & Easy Way to Effective Public Speaking – Andrew Carnegie)
Emotion is evoked, many times, by motion. And people often connect more to how you’re saying what you say than to the words themselves.
Herein is music’s power to develop our ability to connect to others when we communicate: we learn how to harness (through choice) our emotions to allow the emotions to be a bridge to the listener’s heart.
Of course there are lyrics to songs. Not every musical expression has lyrics, however. As the famous quote from St. Augustine goes, “He who sings, prays twice.” In other words, there is intellectual communication and there is emotional communication.
Perhaps one of the greatest life-skills we can foster in students at our music school in Midland, Texas is that of empathy, emotionally connecting with others.
How many times do we find ourselves in situations in which words aren’t enough? Sometimes, the emotions transferred to the micro-muscles in our faces convey more than anything we could have said at the moment.
The cries of the negro slaves on the plantation farms around New Orleans ultimately took form and shape in ‘blues’ and, ultimately, jazz. When a performer connects emotionally to the music, the music in turn connects to the listener’s emotions. Communication at a non-verbal level happens.
Music begins where the possibilities of language end. (Jean Sibelius)
I had an interesting experience travelling to several nursing home facilities in our city. I wanted to bring some cheer to the residents and had some Bach Unaccompanied Sonatas and Partitas for memory that I came to perform.
When I entered each location I became aware of a different feel, or need, in the residents who listened. It was like a vacuum, a hole that needed to be filled. Electricity flows when there is a potential difference. Many times, emotion does the same. In the first home, I sensed an entirely different interpretation of the music from the second home. Each location evoked an entirely different performance. One was peaceful, another forceful, and yet another varied. I had no predetermined plan to do this, just something I sensed needed to happen.
You could call it intuitive, or you could categorize it as empathy. Whatever it is, it is communication and relationship on another plane than verbal.
At our music school in Midland, Texas we give students the opportunity to perform and experience this kind of communication, first hand.
When I play at the local mall, gathering reviews for our music school in Midland, Texas, many times parents are in a hurry, dragging their children along. The parent’s eyes are down, focused on their forward path. But, invariably, the children – every age, every culture – stare at me in wonder. I smile at them subtly as I ‘m playing and they respond with a big grin, or adding a wave. At that moment, I know I’ve made a difference in their day, maybe even their lives, who knows?
Developing stage-presence and empathy are a few of the many benefits studying music creates in the hearts of those who participate.