5 Ways I Improved My Stage Performance
Just this past Saturday evening I had the chance to perform as part of a four-day long, multi-venue festival called Lost in St. Pete. For the fourth time, Lost Creations, DEA & Saint and a host of amazing partners and volunteers combined their efforts to bring the spirit of the arts in the city to life. The event was curated with care and orchestrated beautifully. With so many moving parts, I can only imagine the trials the team faced. Over 100 acts were booked and there were dozens of volunteers strewn about the venues, facilitating the movement.
I’ve performed my music countless times to crowds of various sizes and attitudes, but this time I really felt connected to the people. I felt connected to the room and all its crevices. I felt connected to me. There were many unfamiliar faces, but it felt to me that we had aligned for those 20 minutes of stage time. And from the feedback I got, everyone in the room agreed.
All this alignment led to me to reflect on past performances. As I replace whatever performance I previously thought was my best with this most recent, highly synchronous one, I allow myself the space to appreciate the adjustments I’ve made along the way. Over time I have studied my heroes, my peers, and my own shadow. I have learned from my own wins and losses, and from the work of all who have come before me. Let’s dive right into these 5 ways I improved my stage performance, in no particular order.
1. Calm down & focus on favorable outcomes.
Performing on stage can be nerve-wracking. You’re standing there… lights on you… eyes on you… pressure. on. you. You’ve practiced in the mirror, in your car, around the neighborhood. You’ve done this what seems to be a million times before. Your friends and fans give you flowers and fanfare. Those who would call you their competition have respect for your work ethic and your unique style. Still, none of this means anything once you climb onto the stage. Not for me, anyway.
It doesn’t matter how comfortable I feel about what I’m about to do, I still get that small feeling of impending existential doom that threatens to consume the entire world, from my stomach out. But, over time, I’ve come to the understanding that this particular feeling is more of an energy gathering phenomenon than it is a sign of cowardice or fear as we know it. Those butterflies that take flight in the pit of my belly prior to any endeavor, large or small, are actually evidence of an elaborate system we innately use to heighten our awareness and dedicate the proper attention and focus.
This focus is two-fold. This preparedness that builds with in us gives us a glimpse into the foreseeable future. We can see the goal. The glory. The applause. It’s all right there. But with our senses tingling and our perception at optimal levels, we are also in clear sight of everything that can go wrong. It’s so easy to be hijacked by a feeling of doubt that is so real, so near that you can taste it. The thing is, we simply do not need to focus that much on the possibilities of error. Not so much.
If you have ever entertained the idea that whatever you focus your attention on — favorable or unfavorable — you attract more of, then you’ll know why I would take this position. Things can always go wrong. Take a second to slow down your mind and focus on the outcome you would most prefer. It might be meditation or a certain pre-show ritual. Maybe you practiced so much that your nerves have calmed themselves. Perhaps you have a favorite snack you like to have before you perform. Whatever you do, find a way to allow your mind and body to work with the forces that propel you rather than the ones that hold you back.
2. Practice often & be prepared.
When I pick up a heavy box, I position my feet, clap & rub my hands together and size up the item corner-to-corner to get a good idea of how I can pick it up safely. I know that if I do not analyze before I attack, I’m more likely to see an injury. It’s no different when I’m about to pick up a microphone. I’m reading the room, gauging the vibe, determining by best method of delivering the funk. I’m determining the optimal space for me to be in as I deliver myself to the audience. I’m no longer considering all that could go wrong, because I know I have properly prepared for the task. Can things go wrong? Who knows. I don’t care. What I know is that I will do all that is in my power to ensure that I perform to the best of my ability in that particular moment. Anything else is just feedback for the next lap I take.
Of course, preparation for a live performance begins well before your feet meet the stage. Practice is key. I don’t necessarily need to have a sound system or an empty venue to work on my execution. What I do need is the time and attention it takes to hone one’s craft. When I’m able to drive, I often drive with my own music playing. Passengers will often crack on me, saying, “Oh… you listen to your own music?” It can sting at first but the tune changes quickly once they’ve had a chance to see me perform live.
I recite the songs that I like to perform over and over again. Every day I play some of the songs that I often perform. That, or I’m looping a new recording I made so I can get to the point of memory recall and be able to deliver my musings with ease. There is this ongoing argument in the hip-hop community about whether or not artists should rap over their vocals. If the artist delivers properly, I couldn’t care less if they have vocals on their backing tracks or not. Personally, though, I prefer to only have my vocals on my choruses and maybe some adlibs or support words throughout the verses.
Because I like this raw approach, then it’s likely that if you catch me in the wild, you’ll see me dancing in the streets somewhere with my headphones on full blast, mastering my craft, with no consideration for what an on-looker may be thinking. I retreat into my own world… my own vast ocean of thought, love and source energy. From it, I draw upon all that I ponder, and translate those vibrations into worldly concepts.
3. Attend open mics & try out new tricks.
The fact is, we don’t all have the luxury of practicing our routines in environments that mirror the aesthetics of a performance venue. So, the choices are to not practice at all, or practice in any way possible. For me, the former is not a possibility. Instead, I turn every chance I get to perform… into a chance to practice. Practice is practice. The warm up is practice. The big game is practice. Unless this is your last hoorah, everything is practice.
My favorite way to practice is at open mic events. The pressure I mentioned earlier is dramatically reduced when your name is not on the line… when you’re in the company of others who are drawing upon their courage to perform in front of crowds — some for the first time. Think about it. All the participants are more relaxed. Some have never had a “real” show before. Some don’t confident enough in their abilities to put on an extravagant event, but they are still brave enough to share their artwork with the world. This bravery that fills the air is a beautiful thing to behold and tap into.
When I step out in front of the crowd at an open mic I feel very free. Free to re-interpret my music as I deliver it. How would it sound if I did it like this? How would the crowd react if I move that way? It allows me to regain control over what would otherwise remain hypothetical. I can hear if Ilike the improvised delivery. I can feel the crowd’s reaction. I can see myself reflecting in their eyes. If I make it my intention to study the moment, I can develop a clearer understanding of the way I want my experiences onstage to unfold.
4. Support & learn from your peers.
Someone once asked me how I kept getting booked for shows. He wanted to perform but wasn’t sure how to go about it. I simply explained that he should attend more shows. Be there. Be present. Show up. Talk to people. Lend your energy to other creators so that that energy will make its way back to you in the form of opportunities. I think this is a secondary goal, though. I believe the first step to having a good show, is to be a part of a good show.
How do you want your crowd to react to you? HAVE YOU EVER REACTED THAT WAY FOR ANOTHER ARTIST? Do you sit on an island trying to manifest opportunities without allowing your energy to flow towards them? If so, I promise it’s not too late. I’m sure there are acts around town that you appreciate. Go get in the front row and sing the words you know. Show yourself that you’re ready to receive that kind of energy by putting it out into the world. Ask and it is given. Be what you want to see, if for no other reason than to give the artist on stage the chance to have the crowd that YOU really want. What a gift that would be.
Not only will you further align with the type of performance you wish to have, you’ll also be attending FREE performance school at every show you watch. Watch the footwork. Listen to the way the crowd reacts. Are the microphones at a good level? How well is the bass traveling? Can the people in the back corner hear the music? Are people paying attention? When the artist seems to make a mistake, how do they recover? In what ways did they change their live rendition of a song from the original recorded version?
5. Make eye contact to connect with the crowd.
Making eye contact has been one of my greatest challenges in my time as a performing artist. As a former fully introverted soul, I am wildly accustomed to shying away from eye contact as much as possible. When eyes meet, it feels like people are called towards one another. And you know what happens in public when you look at strangers — they just come up to you and start being all friendly as if you’re not deathly terrified of human interaction.
However, this is the perfect reason for us to prioritize making eye contact with everyone in the audience. It draws them in. It connects people to one another. The old adage about the eyes being the “window to the soul” fits well here. I want the people in the crowd to feel like I was speaking to them. I went them to feel like I handed them something tangible that they can walk away with and enjoy for hours afterwards.
Watching many artists perform — and being a performer myself — I get that sometimes closing your eyes is a part of the experience. Maybe the sweat is in your eyes. Maybe passion is burning within you, and you are visualizing that love in your mind’s eye as you deliver. Maybe you are coming up to that one part of the song you always stumble on, so you are reading the lyrics from your photographic memory to make sure you get it just right. These are all amazing displays of situational awareness and should be applauded. My advice is not to get lost in that darkness for too long.
I like to work the room and place my attention upon each individual in attendance at least once. Some lines I deliver, I will deliver directly to a person who I think may appreciate it. If I say something about a love interest, I’m likely to deliver the line to a lady in the crowd. If I say something about never giving up, I might find someone who appears uneasy and lend them my confidence. If I say something about being sad, I might drop my shoulders and look at the ground… and when my eyes slowly rise, they will meet another pair of eyes to find that they understand what I’m feeling.
Sometimes people look away when they see you seeing them. These moments can also do well to show you that you aren’t the only person in the room who is prone to avoiding eye contact, and they’re not even the ones on stage! Others in the audience will deepen their gaze right along with you, intensifying the vibe of the performance as the rest of the crowd witnesses this strengthening of the intense focus.
Thank your water, not me.
This list is far from definitive, nor is it the full extent of the methods with which I have grown as an artist. It is, however, a good place to start. Putting yourself on display for others to judge as they see fit can be terrifying. But the only thing scarier than to me than trying is quitting when you could be just three feet from gold.
