Teaching Statement

GEORGE CEDERQUIST

Teaching Statement

FINAL DRAFT

“Education should teach self-trust.”  Those words went right over my fourth-grade head.  I passed under a printed banner displaying Ralph Waldo Emerson’s line, taken from one of his Transcendentalist lectures on education, every day on arrival at my elementary school in Michigan.  It was an uninspiring quote for a ten-year-old.  Years later, when I started to teach, this mouthful of words became the core of my teaching philosophy.  I aim to teach self-trust.

In the performing arts, self-trust means having a structure for your artistic impulses, so that when everything else fails you, you can still find the truth in your performance.  Finding the truth is the ultimate goal of what we do in theatre and in opera (theatre’s natural extension of storytelling through music.)  In the theatre - that is, the business of being worth watching - I look not for childish behavior, but child-like inquisitiveness and imagination.  Similarly, in teaching, I do not promote selfish behavior, but self-ish behavior: behavior built around the self, around self-care and self-trust.

Self-trust, as any flight attendant will tell you, means putting on your own mask before assisting others.  I work with singer-actors to make simple, clear and, above all, active choices onstage for themselves first.  I argue that one’s strong, outspoken opinions as a performer are a gift to your colleagues, for they will know where you stand, and will be able to respond in kind.

Self-trust means becoming both colleague-friendly and colleague-proof.  My classroom takes its work seriously, but not itself seriously: let’s deal with the real, but never lose sight of the dream.  I create flexible structures in which my students can be utterly prepared musically, textually, and emotionally, in order to work, open-mindedly, with a conductor or director, but also to have their own bespoke approach in place.  With high expectations, I teach students to be collaborative, to be imaginative, and to be creative.  I often co-teach with another instructor, in the hopes of building community.  And I encourage guided student feedback to promote accountability to one’s colleagues.

Self-trust means resilience, longevity and tenacity.  Nature teaches us that organic growth is not, in fact, linear, but cyclical.  How will you trust yourself to play the long game?  How will you continue to devote yourself to this craft?  What is your system of self-trust for dealing with those inevitable, unpleasant moments of rejection?  How will you stay industry-proof and optimistic as you trust in your role to guide opera into its next stage?  How will the principles of self-trust which you apply to your professional, art-making life also apply to your personal life as a whole?

Self-trust means showing up every day, always telling the truth, and giving it everything you got.

– George Cederquist

FIRST DRAFT

“Education should teach self-trust.”

Those words went right over my fourth-grade head.  I passed under a printed banner displaying Ralph Waldo Emerson’s line, taken from one of his Transcendentalist lectures on education, every day on arrival at my elementary school in Michigan.  They were uninspiring words to a ten-year-old.  Years later, when I started to teach, this mouthful of words became the core of my teaching philosophy.  I aim to teach self-trust.

In the performing arts, self-trust means having a structure for your artistic impulses, so that when everything else fails you, you can still find the truth in your performance.  Finding the truth is the ultimate goal of what we do in theatre and in opera (theatre’s natural extension of storytelling through music.)  In the theatre - that is, the business of being worth watching - I look not for childish behavior, but child-like inquisitiveness and imagination.  Similarly, in teaching, I do not promote selfish behavior, but self-ish behavior: behavior built around the self, around self-care and self-trust.

Self-trust, as any flight attendant will tell you, means putting on your own mask before assisting others.  I work with singer-actors to make simple, clear and, above all, active choices onstage for themselves first.  I argue that one’s strong, outspoken opinions as a performer are a gift to your colleagues, for they will know where you stand, and will be able to respond in kind.

Self-trust means becoming both colleague-friendly and colleague-proof.  My classroom takes its work seriously, but not itself seriously: let’s deal with the real, but never lose sight of the dream.  I create flexible structures in which my students can be utterly prepared musically, textually, and emotionally, in order to work, open-mindedly, with a conductor or director, but also to have their own bespoke approach in place.  With high expectations, I teach students to be collaborative, to be imaginative, and to be creative.

Self-trust means resilience, longevity and tenacity.  Nature teaches us that organic growth is not, in fact, linear, but cyclical.  How will you trust yourself to play the long game?  How will you continue to devote yourself to this craft?  What is your system of self-trust for dealing with those inevitable, unpleasant moments of rejection?  How will you stay industry-proof and optimistic as you trust in your role to guide opera into its next stage?  How will the principles of self-trust which you apply to your professional, art-making life also apply to your personal life as a whole?

Self-trust means showing up every day, always telling the truth, and giving it everything you got.

– George Cederquist