The Art of Auditioning
This week I have been adjudicating the George and Nora London Foundation Competition. In a few weeks, Manhattan School of Music will hold auditions for the next class of singers.
At this time of year, the word audition starts to feel heavier than it should.
Students talk about it as if it were a verdict. A sorting mechanism. A moment where something essential about them will be confirmed or denied.
That framing alone changes how they walk into the room. An audition is not a verdict. It is a presentation. Understanding the difference is the art.
The Room Is Not Against You
Young singers often imagine an audition panel as a wall of judgment. A row of crossed arms waiting to be disappointed.
The reality is less dramatic and more human.
Panels are listening for possibility. For readiness relative to opportunity. They are listening for whether the singer in front of them can thrive in the environment being offered.
At the George and Nora London Foundation Competition, the standard is high. The singers who walk into that room are not beginners. They are emerging professionals. The question is not whether they are talented. The question is whether their current development meets the moment.
At MSM auditions, the lens is different. Faculty are listening for potential, teachability, and trajectory. We are not asking whether a singer is finished. We are asking whether they are ready to grow in the curriculum.
Those are very different evaluations.
Most singers never adjust their mindset accordingly.
Auditions Reward Clarity, Not Desperation
The fastest way to weaken an audition is to treat it as survival.
When a singer enters the room trying to prove everything at once, artistry narrows. The body tightens. Choices become cautious. Musical instincts are overridden by strategy.
To give the panel a clear idea of who you are, you should ask yourself:
Who am I right now?
What does my voice do naturally and well?
What repertoire shows that clearly?
The strongest auditions are rarely the most dramatic. They are the most present.
Technique Must Be Boringly Reliable
In competitions like the London’s, artistry matters. But reliability matters first.
Panels cannot advocate for singers who feel unstable. Even if the musical instincts are compelling, inconsistency raises questions about career sustainability.
This is not meant as cruelty. It is practicality.
The art of auditioning includes knowing that your technique must function without negotiation. These cannot be under discussion in the audition room. They must already be resolved in the practice room.
Read the Room, But Do Not Perform for It
Singers are often told to connect with the panel. This is well-intentioned advice that easily becomes distortion.
Connection in an audition does not mean charm (I admit I was guilty of this in my young artist years). It does not mean personality on display. It means clarity of communication.
Panels notice when singers are performing for approval. The energy shifts outward in an anxious way. The sound often follows.
The paradox is that the most compelling auditions feel grounded inwardly. The singer trusts the work and allows the panel to come toward them rather than chasing affirmation.
This is easier said than done. It is learned over time.
The Aftermath Matters
The most dangerous part of audition season is not the audition itself. It is the interpretation afterward. Singers often reduce the outcome to identity.
I got in, so I am good.
I did not advance, so I am not enough.
Competitions and school auditions are filters for specific moments. They do not measure total worth. They measure fit, readiness, and context.
The truth is, variables exist that singers never see.
The art of auditioning includes learning how to metabolize results without collapsing into them.
What Panels Actually Hope For
No panel wants to reject someone great.
Every adjudicator hopes the next singer will make the decision obvious. Clear sound. Clear intention. Clear readiness.
The best auditions make panels feel relief.
They allow the work to speak without interference.
Auditions are not trials. They are conversations conducted in music.
When preparation is honest and self-understanding is clear, the room feels less like a judgment chamber and more like a meeting point.
That shift does not eliminate pressure.
It makes it usable.
This essay is part of Studio Notes.
