embracing your authentic story (with Seiko)
A conversation with Seiko, Storyteller and Artistic and Executive Director of Opera on Tap Rochester, about the experience of telling authentic personal stories through administrative work.
Dear reader,
I hope you’ve had a great week! This week was fairly busy, but had some exciting moments. Last weekend’s performance of the Mozart Requiem with Southern Tier Singers’ Collective and the Binghamton Philharmonic was a wonderful experience. Check out a great review of the performance here!
This week’s interview is with Seiko, a friend from Ithaca whose work has inspired me for a few years at this point. We talk about their role in creating a chapter of Opera on Tap in Rochester, NY, founding scholarship awards with the George Shirley Competition, and learning how to believe in their unique artistry at every step of the way. This conversation really inspired me, and I hope it does the same for you :)
Who are you, and what do you do?
I am Seiko. I like to tell people that I'm a 21st century storyteller. Because we exist in the 21st century. I love to tell stories, whether that's through the medium of speaking or through the medium of music. I use my body to express myself, I use my voice to express myself, and I use different mechanical things in between those worlds, all of which allow me to figure out who I am, what I am, what I am not, how I love, how I see the world, and what I hope to leave behind when my mortal body leaves. So I don't know if that helps. But I'm Seiko. And I'm a 21st century storyteller.
I actually just started to not care about any of the credits or titles beyond that. I’ll tell you what I mean: I got into a great graduate school, I went to a great undergraduate school, I've been invited to do professional gigs at different opera companies, and sure, I've neglected opportunities behind closed doors. I feel like as artists, and as humans, when we introduce ourselves with our work, there are all sorts of expectations placed upon us about how that should look. The reason that I do the work that I do is not entirely because I need to have any recognition; where I attend school, the number of degrees I receive, or if I run an organization isn’t really important. I do those things because I am contributing to the world around me. And, trust me, nobody goes into nonprofit organizations to make money, nobody. That’s a testament to why the work is even being done.
I went to Ithaca College for my undergrad, I was at Eastman for the first year and a half of my graduate studies, and I decided to leave – it was an amicable departure. I wasn't having what I felt to be a satisfactory experience. These incredible opportunities that we have in the world are just that: opportunities through which we get to learn how to express, express and explore who we are as humans. I’ve started to just be present. If that ends up with me on the main stage, lovely, or if it lands me winning a competition, lovely. And it's not to say that we can't celebrate these wonderful things. These are wonderful things. But none of those things make me who I am as much as me being able to live and embody my authentic expression of my humanity and personhood. If I didn't get into Eastman, or Ithaca, I would still be the human I am. I don't know what my life would look like, because I think those things inevitably cultivated and shaped what I know, the knowledge that I have and the information that I share with the world. And, even when you go into places where it's not something that's positive, that is an integral component of the process as well.
The work for me is less about quantity and more about the quality. I love music. I love being a human and I love how I share myself in the world. I love doing things that can afford other people opportunities that may otherwise not exist. I love creating new projects and I love sharing my experiences and ideas with the world.
Can you tell me more about the stories you have to tell, and the people you can connect with through them?
Absolutely. To give you hardcore examples that are a part of my identifiers: I'm Black, I'm gay, I'm male, I am a countertenor. All those things set me apart to operate in the world in a very specific way. These demographics are identities that play a role in how I am and who I am and how I share myself in the world. Those are part of my stories. When I was growing up, there were people that had difficulty allowing me to express myself: they felt like my voice was too high pitched, they felt like I hung around a lot of girls, and they would say things to me that were really graphic that were like, “Are you being intimate with those girls?” It was like they wanted me to tell them that if I was hanging around these young ladies, I should be getting something from them.
Throughout my upbringing, I was in a household where mental health was a difficult subject, and we had to negotiate and navigate what that meant and what it looks like to be raised in the inner-city community of Metropolitan Washington, D.C. as a lower-income Black family.I lived with my grandmother, my mother, and I later moved into my uncle’s home. The one thing that was constant in my life was music. At first I was mimicking sounds that I was hearing, which we do as babies. I was learning how to discern music because I could hear notes: I didn't have perfect pitch, but I could experience what certain notes felt like in my body. I could feel music create a world of symphonies inside of me with my heartbeat. The one thing in telling my stories has been a constant is music.
How does this connect with your current organization, Opera on Tap, in Rochester?
The organization is spearheaded by three male-presenting individuals who are all gay, who are all Black, and two of us are countertenors and one of us is soprano. Where does that exist? It doesn’t to my knowledge. One thing that's been important is constantly telling these stories, and having an organization that is led with the humans who are a part of these experiences and stories. We know that these historically underserved and historically overlooked populous demographics have not had real moments to communicate beyond trauma. We’ve really been trying to think: “what does it mean to create a different kind of recital series? What does it mean, to have a composer from the Black diaspora celebrate joy?” It doesn't mean that we can't learn from trauma. I wanted to be a part of highlighting people through joyful and more pleasant moments that may have stemmed from traumatic experiences, and giving them a platform that is less performative and more about a genuine connection. Music is a platform that inherently allows us to examine so many different experiences in connection with our personhood in connection with communities for which we are a part and communities we claim to serve.
Could you tell me about the origin story of your organization, and how it came to be?
I’ve always made observations about the world around me. I began to notice: the things that I felt the world needed that didn’t exist, and it became my duty to create them. I had a lot of ideas in my head, but I didn't always have the resources. After a while, I landed a job with Opera on Tap, but wasn’t familiar with their work. I realized that partnering with them to build the projects that I was passionate about was more than a priority, and that’s when we created a chapter of Opera on Tap in Rochester.
Opera on Tap sponsors me and the chapter through fiscal sponsorship, which allows the chapter to function independently and work as a non-profit organization under their 501c credentials. Without the initial job, I would not have reached out to Opera on Tap. Through this process, I learned how to advocate for my needs and the needs of the community in the most professional and polite way. I have people on the board whose work I greatly admire. I promised the organization, everybody who's on the artistic council and administrative board, that I will only send one email a week, and never more than three emails in a month. And I have kept that promise. I've tried to make their jobs easy, because a lot of people are scared when you're asking them to be on board or something. They already have a number of commitments, so you can’t scare them away by burdening them with a number of busy tasks.
If I had not had an opportunity to collaborate through performance with Opera on Tap, maybe I would not have become more privy to knowing that I could create a chapter the umbrella of Opera on Tap. They were so excited about it, that we made everything possible, and they couldn't wait to see what happened. This year, we're collaborating with the George Shirley competition, where they've given over a million dollars in scholarships and awards. I've created specific scholarships for the competition that are in honor of my grandmother, my mom, and the administrative board. My objective was to create something that will always remain. And even if I were to step away from this position as the Artistic and Executive Director, I will always have some say, certainly, in the awards. I wanted to create something that can be sustainable. I hope that I'm offering a contribution to the community that is less about me, and more about the uplifting and empowerment of the community outside of me, even if I'm not a Rochester native.
And so that is why I started this organization. This is why it's so important to me. It also gives me the opportunity to delve further into arts administration. I was already doing project management, something a lot of us already do. If you're creating things for your recital, when you’re engaging in preparing for a wedding or a party, or you're planning things, you know, when you're on the board of student organizations. This is work I was already doing in a different capcity. I was a senator on the student governance council at Ithaca and during my graduate experience at Eastman. So why not take the next step? I took a class about proposal and grant writing, and I'm so glad I did. I learned a lot about the language to use, I learned that not every presentation has to be 300 pages, and I've learned how to create what I believe to be impactful and influential addresses for the organization and create these partnerships. These are the origins of the many projects I have my hands in.
Could you tell me more about the scholarships and awards set up through your organization?
I was very intentional about every single award. As the Artistic and Executive Director, I sat down with myself, and said, when I do this, I really have to go big or go home. And going big doesn't mean that you promise money that you can't pay to people. I knew that these things had to be really personal to me. I even said to the organization that I would love to collaborate with the George Shirley Competition. And I was encouraged to send an email to the organization.
On the application, I was very particular about the questions asked. I wanted to help the applicants authentically share their stories as themselves in the world. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t just asking, “Can you talk about the traumatic experiences that made you realize who you are?” That doesn't help anybody and it isn’t encouraging at all. So, I added a component where I encouraged them to make a video if they didn't want to write. Sometimes, it’s much easier to speak than it is to write about our experiences and stories.
The first award is specifically for people within the LGBTQ+ community, in honor of my Administrative Board. The other one was an encouragement award in honor of my mom. Every step of my journey, I always had her in my corner to encourage me. I needed to recognize that in some way, we all have support that reminds us of ourselves, our strength, and the importance of never giving up. The last one was in honor of my grandmother. My grandmother did not really care for opera. I went to a prestigious performing arts high school and she would always say to me, “is that what that school is teaching you? Because it sounds terrible.” I think that was just her way of saying that she didn’t quite understand what I was doing. But a year and some change before she died, my spirit spoke to me, and said I was supposed to fly back to LA. It was just before her birthday, and I sang Happy Birthday to her. That wasn't enough for my family, though. So I created a song on the spot. And my grandmother cried because I was singing for her.
So it was important for me to celebrate my mother, my grandmother, and, of course, the administrative board. It goes to show that many of us won't always know what we're doing, where we're going, or why that may be important at a later part of our lives. But when we have people that can shift our atmospheres, and that can create and cultivate experiences that we can't really explain, that can leave an impression on your physical being to the atomic level. It is truly so stirring. And so for me, I needed to explore that within this organization, and in how I show up in the world.
Wow. That's incredible. There's the idea of reinvesting in stories, and this whole project of creating awards, creating scholarships feels like taking part of your story, and being able to pass that in a way on to another person. It's a testament to the fact that you are not just a person on a pedestal, who has abilities and skills, but is creating space for other people to come.
Far too often, nobody really wants to be a leader, but everybody wants to be in control and have a title. And everybody wants to have opinions, but nobody has productive solutions. I don't have all of the answers, I'm not a perfect human being at all. But what I do know is that when I have an idea, and I believe in something, I do whatever I have to do to fulfill my promise and achieve what I set my mind to. That sets the ball rolling for more things to be created like many of the aforementioned partnerships and projects.
This project ties together so many different parts of your community, and it feels very real. It’s important to know how to take the next step; you can have the music, you can have the stories, you can have the artistic potential, but you have to actually be able to do something with it. And you have to face the fact that finances are involved, and that someone has to be responsible for things like communication and leadership, in order to get anything off the ground.
Nike, I understand, started with about $50. And look at them today. Disney, too: many establishments and organizations started somewhere, and it’s fascinating to know how they started and the stories that have come about throughout their contributions to the world.
To be clear, I don't regret unpleasant experiences that I've had in places because all of my experiences have given me serviceable information about what works for me, what doesn't work, and I've gained a network– a community of people.Even though I didn't finish my degree at Eastman, I am partnering with their Institute of Music Leadership program and they are providing me with interns to work for me. That they're paying, by the way.
We're all growing. We're all living, breathing organisms, and have the opportunity to continue to explore that in whatever way that we feel suits us best. We can invest through performance one day, and in our administrative roles the next day. You integrate the two in some way. That's what I've done. I've been okay with maybe doing a lot more arts administration than performance. My work needs to be able to speak for itself.
My life is far from perfect. I enjoy the bumps, the hills that I've had to climb, and the unpleasant experiences that have taught me valuable lessons. And I feel that the more that we can lean into our truth as humans in our personhood, and the more that we can accept ourselves, for everything that we are, the better work that we can offer to the world. And a better experience that the world will have. I tell my students, your job is not to impress me, but your job is to feel safe in this environment for as long as you do, and to feel encouraged to explore and experiment with the most healthy and natural sounds that live inside of you. If I can encourage you to do that, then I feel like I'm doing my job. None of that is about perfection.
It stands out that so much of this conversation, and so much of your journey has been about finding the authentic story you have to tell, and finding resources and paths to share that with people. Do you have any advice or wisdom to give to people who may still be discovering who they are, and trying to accept themselves fully?
That’s a very difficult question, but there is a really simple way I can try and respond. It’s personal, and it's intimate. When you can accept yourself when your voice is not amazing, when you can accept yourself when you make a mistake, when you tell a lie, when you hurt a friend, or a family member or whatever, right? It's true that most of us are afraid of that reckoning.
I pulled out of environments where I was not able to be the best version of myself. There can be consequences for being yourself, but there can be the same, if not more, for being someone or something else. My simplest metaphor is this: you go to a car lot, and you have a specific budget. There’s a Honda Accord, and then there’s the fanciest race car, let's say a Corvette, right? Maybe your budget is for a Honda Accord. That doesn't mean that you can't work to eventually have the race car. But right now you have these restrictions. And let's say that there are other barriers that don't allow you to go any further than your budget. It makes the most sense that you need to go with this Honda Accord, right? That's how I've lived my life. Sometimes, in some spaces, you are too expensive for that environment, or that environment is too expensive for your peace and sanity. I decided to leave a job that I had, that I was so excited about, that I had publicized and talked about. But I did it quietly, not because I wanted to hide, but because I learned that my work will always speak for itself. I learned that I will always be talked about, whether I'm doing something that people feel is performative, or that’s actually me.
I learned that I needed to have this reckoning with myself, when I didn't feel like my voice was amazing, when I didn't feel as attractive and beautiful. My journey is not to be perfect, but to grow and to learn in environments that maybe I hadn't known I needed to experience. Some environments aren't what you want them to be because you are the vessel that will shift and cultivate that environment for what it needs to be. The things you do would happen in a different way if you did not exist, so there is power in your existence in every space. You can learn the power that you have inherently as a human. None of the weird societal things matter when your heart, your brain, and your hands, can offer something to the world.
My mom always said, “If you can do something with your hands, you can do something with your heart and your mind, and you will always be in a job.” Even if employed means in your humanity and in your personhood. It's a long journey of discovery. You can only give what you have the capacity to give. You can only be what you have the capacity to be. So if my mind, body, and spirit has a capacity to exist in a certain form, I can only give that, and that has nothing to do with being in comparison or in a competition with another human being. When we trust in ourselves and we learn this, then we can rest upon knowing that if things are too difficult, those environments are just not for [you]. Trust yourself, and to allow yourself to exist in your purest form. And that's a very vulnerable thing.
I hope that this can continue to be an offering for anybody who cares enough to listen, and who cares enough to be in a space to know that I really love giving, I love being passionate, I love learning, I love growing. And I love learning at my own pace. And so what I've learned is, I would never wait for the world, but I will allow the world to catch up with me. Good moments are to pass and not always to pause. We have to let them kind of just pass as they do because we can only hold onto them in our memories. And we create experiences through music, through live performance that can never be recreated exactly the same ever again. But that is what makes it so special: that it existed and that moment has passed.
When you walk into a performance or an audition, you walk in saying, “this is what I have to offer. And I'm happy to share.” When you walk through those spaces, you can say, “this is just another opportunity for me to share what I love to do, to share who I am and where I am. Even if I sing a wrong note. Even if my voice cracks.” The idea is that music is about stories. And if you have a story that you've committed to, and you sing music that you actually believe in, that’s all that matters. If, for whatever reason, things don't pan out the way that you believe that they should, it just means that those places aren't for you. And that’s not a bad thing. It may mean that you have to create new opportunities for yourself. It's the way that they're meant to be.
You have something that no institution can take away from you. And that's you learning through your instinct, and your humanity, and your personhood, that even when you’re at your worst, you still can rest knowing that you are great. You can exist and live at your best.
Relax, enjoy the moment. It'll pass. It'll be what it needs to be. You're already where you need to be, doing what you need to be doing, and you can be thankful for that.
Thank you, Seiko, for sharing your story in this conversation!
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Upcoming Performances:
February 24, 7:30pm; St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Binghamton: Arches in Sound with Southern Tier Singers Collective
March 17, 4pm; Pebble Hill Presbyterian Church, Syracuse: Symphonic Motets with Syracuse Schola Cantorum
Thank you for reading <3
Love,
Caitlin
Such honesty and positivity. I loved learning about this artisit and this organization. Thank you!