It's about 20-per-cent job, 80-per-cent calling. But of course there are those days when it's a dance for grandma -- when you feel like a wind-up toy. Or times when you feel like you're a fake: up on stage, waiting until they figure it out. The other day I was on stage and I thought, I can't believe this is my life. I have such a strange career. I'm in front of thousands of people, there's a man waving a stick at me and I'm in a corset. But of course, I wouldn't ever give it up.
As a singer, I start right in the morning. I swallow about 10 times and see how my voice is, and the rest of my day really depends on that. I'll do yoga or go for a walk, and after about three hours I'll start my warm-up. Unless I have an early rehearsal, I never sing in the morning. It's all to do with resonances.
I go to the opera company to rehearse. I went to the COC in Toronto and I'm at City now, or I might go to the Juilliard. I might do a small warmup in the shower, but I live in an apartment, so nobody wants me to rehearse there.
I'll warm up for about 20 minutes. I do body stretches first to centre me and get me to concentrate and then I'll do scales, Caruso exercises or Rossini exercises. I try to take one day off a week, because the more I practise, the better I am.
If I'm rehearsing by myself, I'll sing for about two hours. You can only sing for so long. But I'll spend a lot of time going over languages and researching. If I'm playing a historical figure, I'll read up about the person, or about the period, find out about their clothing because that tells you so much about a person. And I'll go through the score and read everything my character says, and everything anyone else says about me. I'll make "minis" -- little one-line blurbs that encapsulate each scene for me, which I learned to do from director Tom Diamond.
I'll drink water throughout the day, to hydrate my body and my voice. I'm not one of those swilling opera singers with a water bottle attached to their hips. If I'm performing, I'll have a power bar half an hour before and eat after. You can't eat before when you're wearing those corsets or you will die, or pop out -- "Look, no costume for you!"
We do practise in rehearsal skirts to get used to the corsets. Once you're in it, your body adjusts and you're fine. I like to wear the shoes of the character. It can really make a difference.
I don't really get creative blocks. The night before I start rehearsals for a new show, I'll think, I can't sing. But the first day I'm fine. There are always these insecurities for singers. But you just have to force yourself to work through it.
While in school, I once had a score thrown at me by my instructor. I think once I missed a note or a cue, and he turned at me and yelled "What, are you dating a tenor?" He was so tough on me. We hated each other. But it was a trial by fire, it made me really strong. Now whenever I get rejection, I'm fine. And this is a business with a lot of rejection -- you'll go for an audition and there'll be 200 people for three roles. But he was so difficult and unkind, it helped me. Nothing will ever be worse than what he said.
My parents are my real inspiration, they've been together for 35 years, through thick and thin, raised three kids, sacrificed so much for them. Artistically I find inspiration in the singing actor, people like Joyce Carol, Renée Fleming, who are so in the moment, putting it all out there on stage, don't agonize about the perfect tone. People who sing on interest and not on capital.
My advice for aspiring singers is to be on time, know your music, watch and learn from other singers, be in the moment and practise. You should also learn when to say no, to turn some things down. Sometimes as a singer you're offered things that are not right for you, that are too big. Your voice is a muscle, and if you damage it -- that's it. It's very attractive when opera companies say we want you to sing this, we'll give you good money. Any job is a dream when you're just starting out. But you have to consider that sometimes paying the mortgage is not what's best for you artistically. A recipient of the William Matheus Sullivan Foundation Award, Newfoundland's Cheryl Hickman recently wrapped up her role as Mary in Douglas Moore's The Ballad of Bay Doe at the New York City Opera.