Singing and gymnastics have a lot in common: Both are very physical activities requiring tremendous stamina and motor coordination combined with aristry. As performers, both have to keep their bodies in optimal condition in order to perform their best, and they struggle with the effects of nerves on their performances. As one who often performs poorly under the pressure of competition, it has been educational for me to watch the Olympic gymnastics finals on TV. The best of the best (i.e. Liukin & Johnson) are careful what they allow themselves to pay attention to during a competition and are often seen closing their eyes as part of a routine to focus their thoughts and calm their nerves. They are also known, according to commentators, for being exceptionally able to "live in the moment" and are less affected by recent and/or significant setbacks and disappointments -- skills which are probably linked to their ability to focus their thoughts. These qualities make them very successful. Others, like Alicia Sacrimone, are more like me, lacking in these skills. Our technical and artistic skills enable us to compete in venues where we consistently perform below our ability because we are overly concerned with the importance of the event and the consequences of mistakes.
Figure skating is in the same boat with singing and gymnastics as a sport requiring both athleticism and artistry, and it has similar examples of grace under pressure. My favorite is that of Sarah Hughes, Olympic gold medalist in women's figure skating in 2002 - she was in fourth place heading into the final program behind three powerhouses in the sport. Assuming she was out of contention for a medal, she decided the pressure was off and just tried to entertain the audience, while the powerhouses, each knowing the smallest mistake could cost them a gold medal, made significant careless and uncharacteristic mistakes. A commentator stated, "For Sarah, it wasn't about the
result; it was about the
performance." And it earned her a gold medal. In the end, it's not about who is the best skater, but who out of a handful of world-class skaters performs best under unfathomable pressure.
I have worked on telling myself that these events (i.e, the Met auditions) are not important and that I am not trying to accomplish anything "special", I'm just there to repeat the "same old show" that I do day after day in the studio. This helps, but I am still working on convincing myself, I think, because most of my best performances show up in the privacy of the studio. Tim Galway's book,
The Inner Game of Tennis, offers a great deal of insight on this matter, as well, which again, I have yet to fully internalize. Book knowledge of these concepts is not surprisingly insufficient.
For the record, I have won more track (running) events than I have singing events -- and I have competed in more singing events than track events, albeit at a much higher level.
Labels: competitions