What it’s really like on stage: emotions take over
The pianist sits down and sets his hands upon his instrument.
His head nods and the first few notes begin to cry out. They pierce through my ears and my heart starts pounding.
My blood starts rushing through my veins, causing my hands to shiver ever so slightly.
As I focus back in on the piano, I realize it’s time to get ready.
My diaphragm begins to fill with air as I prepare the first note.
The nerves have now migrated from the gut wrenching feeling in my stomach and the minor shiver of my hands to shaking knees and sweaty palms.
The first note begins to form and finally makes its entrance.
The flow of music just develops through my vocal chords and extends to the audience’s ears.
Next thing I know I’m bowing and walking towards the next performer anxiously awaiting their entrance.
When I was a little girl, my father would work on his music as I sat next to him on the floor humming along until I could do it without his music behind me.
I would pester him to play at all hours of the day, especially when I would go to sleep.
I began stealing microphones and headphones from my father and performing my own concerts in my bedroom.
I also began to ask for concert DVDs and CDs to entertain myself.
I started to move away from the typical TV shows I loved and turned my main focus onto music and everything it acquired.
I then knew what I truly wanted to do with my life; perform. I knew, at that time, I loved to sing and be around music, so why not make it a career right?
It’s all I tried for and thought about.
Performing is a passion that is growing and flourishing along with me as I progress through my life.
Walking out onto the stage is a sensation no artist can describe.
It is a full body feeling that is only seized in that moment.
Although I have become nervous about other things in my lifetime, nothing can compare to the thrill you get walking out onto that stage.
It is a certain energy that makes you crave the nerves standing on the wings, side of the stage, and also that heart dropping feeling as you begin to walk out.
The reason most people get these feelings is because a single performance can take months to prepare, but it can be ruined in a split second.
In the end, all a performer really wants out of a performance is a fifteen-second applause and little pats on the back.
As an artist, I love being able to tell my story about the experience that very few attain—being on the other side of the microphone. Although the audience is one of the biggest components in a performance, they aren’t what make it complete.
I have begun to work in studios around my hometown and have recently finished my first E.P., also known as extended play—an album that is shorter than traditional.
The experience was really eye-opening to what the industry entails as a whole and why certain artists work with what they are forced to do.
I was not allowed to pick my own songs, but my manager seemed to find some that fit my voice perfectly.
All of this contributes to the courage I have standing behind that microphone.
My first ever performance I felt like I fell flat on my face because everyone criticizes himself or herself more then needed.
I fell into that statistic. I’ve grown to love my voice and my ways of performing, making the motion of stepping behind that microphone not nerve-racking, but peaceful.
Being on stage is the most vulnerable spot during a performance. As a singer, when I walk out onto the stage, everything goes mute. The crowd is as quiet as a mouse and the band members are almost invisible.
I look out and see hundreds and even thousands of unfamiliar faces. I take a deep breath and act as if the audience members are my best friends or even family members.
Standing alone in front of that many people will make anyone tense up and become shy or self-conscious. The best way to deal with those emotions is to breathe.
The audience will be your worst and your best critic and listener.
I encourage people to take a stab at being on the opposite side of the microphone, looking back at their original seat.
It’s an experience worth suffering through and pushing yourself to accomplish.
The energy will captivate you and pull out the performer that you never knew you had.
Haley Erdbrink can be contacted at
haley.erdbrink@ksc.keene.edu