What I Learned From Losing My First Music Competition
And how I got back up
A few years ago, I decided to enter a few classical voice competitions. At the time, I was a budding vocalist, and since I was only participating in recitals twice a year, I wanted more opportunities to perform. Given the abundance of local music competitions in my area, I knew I could gain a lot of practice by auditioning for some of them. The first one I prepared for was a mid-sized contest that offered winners a partial scholarship of several hundred dollars each.
Though I didn’t expect much, I actually won. This lit my fire, and my hunger for competing soon became insatiable. Not long after, I entered a local singing competition. Coming off my recent scholarship win, I was pretty confident in my chances. “I’ll be fine!” I reminded myself.
Yeah, things didn't go as planned.
I couldn’t believe it. My performance was solid, and the judges seemed to like it. I even listened to some of the other vocalists, and though they were good, I felt like I had an edge over them.
Despite this, I didn’t even get honorable mention. What went wrong?
Looking back, I now realize that, well, a lot could have gone wrong — maybe I wasn’t as good as I thought, or perhaps there was a really outstanding singer who was more deserving.
However, for music competitions, a final factor — subjectivity — usually comes into play, which is often why results appear skewed, unpredictable, or even unfair.
Many competitions, such as those based in STEM, are quite objective — competitors take an exam, and they are ranked based on the number of questions they answered correctly. The score received is (usually) not dependent on who grades it.
This is typically why people say the most prepared win — because in these scenarios, the most-prepared competitors tend to do better.
However …
This attitude can be extremely detrimental to performers because music competitions are very subjective.
How do you even judge music anyway? Sure, it’s easy to tell a novice apart from a professional, but for those similar in skill, how do you figure out who’s better? After all, unlike an exam, there’s no way to truly judge a performance quantitatively. Contestant A might have impeccable pitch but horrible musicality, and contestant B might be the opposite. However, you can’t really compare pitch and musicality together — they’re both needed to deliver a great performance!
Then there’s the repertoire selection. Judges might favor a performer who plays a piece they enjoy, even if other competitors are slightly superior in other respects. The panel likely isn’t doing this on purpose, but subconsciously, they might enjoy contestant A’s pieces more- and that might end up being the tipping factor in their decisions.
For example, take the Curtis Institute of Music. As one of the best conservatories in the world, Curtis attracts top musical talent. Because its class size is so small, however, it can only accept around ten people — yes, ten people! — out of a pool of a few hundred each year. That makes Curtis even more selective than some of the best US universities, and when you consider that the entire applicant pool is full of national-level musicians, there’s going to be some luck involved in determining who gets in and who doesn’t.
The hard truth is, if all the candidates are nearly equal in skill level, judges are going to look at other qualities. And in the case of Curtis, that might include how likeable a candidate is, or how well the candidates might work with the faculty. Obviously, this is all very subjective (especially when you’re only admitting ten or so students!).
This all probably seems kind of unfair to you, especially if you haven’t experienced this firsthand. “Luck shouldn’t play a role in auditions,” I hear you saying. “Talent should.”
So what can we do to eliminate subjectivity in the competitive sphere?
Actually, not much.
When you have an extremely large pool of competitors for anything that is evaluated qualitatively, such as an audition or interview, you’re likely to have to decide between multiple equally-qualified candidates. In this case, it’s kind of hard not to be subjective. And this extends beyond the performing world. It’s why you might not get the job after an interview you thought went really well, or you might receive admission into a university you didn’t think you’d be accepted at. It absolutely sucks, but just remember this:
Competitions are not measures of your value, but rather how specific groups of people view you at a particular time.
Ultimately, we can’t change the way competitions judge us. What we can change — what we must change — is the way we react to it.
In the world of performing arts, failure is inevitable. But in the arts, “failure” and “success” do not have a single fixed meaning. If we want to truly assess ourselves as artists, we need to stop focusing on results. Too often we cry over loss without actually thinking about why we lost. Instead, consider how you can improve yourself in order to succeed.
The great thing about failure is that you often receive detailed criticism from judges as a rationale for why they did not pick you. Don’t get offended if you get feedback you don’t agree with; rather, try to see it as an opportunity for growth. Will it sting for a while? Yes, it absolutely will. But guess what? Even the greatest musicians have failed — in fact, many of them have lost more competitions than they’ve won. Let the pain fuel you.
What sets them apart, however, is how they’ve actually taken feedback from those losses and used it to improve — and eventually, they became too good for judges to ignore. All successful people have gotten to where they are in life because they’ve allowed hardships and failures to propel them towards their dreams.
So the next time you experience failure (and you probably will!), keep an open mind. It might turn out to be the best experience you’ve ever had.
