We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Audra Casebier. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Audra below.

Hi Audra, thanks for joining us today. We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.

Currently, I am rehearsing a recital titled “Faith in Humanity” that will be composed of musical theater repertoire, and will explore the range of humanity’s relationship with faith in a higher power. The music will range emotionally from being full of trust and unwavering grace to complicated and full of scrutiny. There will be four sections: “Prayers,” “Biblical Characters (and friends),” “Faith,” and selections from Leonard Bernstein’s Mass. It is a wonderful opportunity to explore music from roles that I will never be hired to sing. It is so important for singers to try different styles of music on because it returns to us so much agency and creative autonomy in a time when everyone is pigeonholed or deemed a “type.” My long-term goal with this program is to record and launch it on streaming platforms so it can be enjoyed by anyone. I am also excited to be making my role debut as the Mother Abbess in The Sound of Music at Candlelight Theatre Delaware this summer.

The importance of meaningful projects hasn’t always been apparent to me though. When I was in school, feedback was something that I desperately craved because, frankly, I was clueless as to who I was as an artist or what I had to say. I knew I wanted to grow my abilities as a classical singer in as many ways as I could but had zero idea of how to do so in ways that were authentic to myself. I would participate in as many mock auditions and masterclasses as possible for as many different people as I could get in front of with the goal of receiving their feedback. It became an unhealthy cycle of seeking external validation and approval. Once I was out of school and auditioning for young artist programs, I learned that rarely is feedback offered; it was a stark contrast to what I had come to rely on. Gone was the crutch that provided me with any insight into why I may not have booked a contract and/or how to improve myself within my craft from those behind the table. I spent years in this unhealthy cycle and when the pandemic hit, that time offered me the opportunity to press the massive reset button I needed to reassess my approach to this career altogether.

I’m not saying that all those mock auditions and masterclasses weren’t helpful, they absolutely were, auditioning is a skill in and of itself. However, when I create a meaningful project for myself or others, it offers me many opportunities for personal and professional growth that cannot be found in the audition room. The most important element being the expansion of joy and validation from within myself due to the integrity that comes from building a program from the ground up. By meeting myself where I am at and not limiting myself to a voice type or how I am perceived onstage, I have built an unshakeable level of self-confidence in my abilities as a creator and performer. I will likely never remember that great audition I sang that one time, but I will always remember a project that came to fruition from my heart by keeping my creative interests at the forefront rather than just the desire to book a job. Ironically, or maybe not so ironically, that ultimately carries over into the audition room too and that’s when I start booking opportunities.

Audra, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

I currently live in a New Jersey suburb of Philadelphia with my incredible husband. I have built a thriving voice studio over the last year and a half alongside my ever-growing career as a cross-over performer. I sing opera when I want to but find most of my professional and creative fulfillment playing in the musical theatre realm. Getting to this point has been a journey of tears, sweat, sometimes blood, stubbornness, and a seemingly never-ending pool of self-belief that I can’t believe didn’t dry up years ago.

I grew up in Fremont Ohio, a suburb of Toledo, and my musical journey began when I was introduced to the cello in the fifth grade by Karla Sorg. I played all the way through my senior year, but I was bit by the theatre bug when I was a sophomore playing in the pit for Fremont Ross High School’s production of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum by Stephen Sondheim. I loved playing in the pit but after that show I knew being on the stage was more my speed. I had been taking voice lessons from my first teacher Jean Vestal for a few years at that point and so when it came time to audition for BFA programs in musical theater I thought I was good to go! I was not good to go. Those auditions included dance and acting portions in addition to singing, neither of which I had any training in. I had no clue what a monologue was and could barely step ball change to save my life. I decided to play to my strengths and audition for Voice Performance programs and was accepted to Kent State University and so began the operatic portion of my singing journey. The audition process for that was complex in other ways because of the foreign language aspect. Whether French, German or Italian, it was all Greek to me. My dear friend and colleague, Dr. Kristen Kunkle, who was also from Fremont, was home visiting from her own graduate studies and I began working with her on preparing for auditions. Under her tutelage, languages became less daunting and a baby soprano was born even though I was convinced I was a lower voice. Years later she still teases me about this. Thanks, for always sticking by this, Kirsten.

The four years I spent at Kent State were academically and artistically fulfilling but were an emotional roller coaster where my personal life was concerned. My mother had been battling brain cancer for several years and had been addicted to prescription medications for even longer. I was completely unaware of the addiction or I was in denial, I don’t recall. But as her short-term memory continued to diminish due to her cancer, her addiction increased. I didn’t have a car and many times I relied on friends to drive me the two hours home so I could visit her whenever she was admitted into another rehab. I was in so much pain and grieving the loss of who I knew as my mom in a way that I couldn’t have fathomed at that point in my life. My parents were divorced and my dad did his best in such an impossible situation for me and my sister, but he was unfairly the recipient of my anger many times. It was a difficult place to be in for as young as I was.

Once I completed my undergraduate work, I went on to pursue my Masters in Vocal Performance and Pedagogy from Westminster Choir College (WCC) in Princeton, New Jersey. Moving there was an escape from the instability of home. It was at WCC that the world really opened up to me; having the chance to work with some of the most renowned coaches, teachers, conductors, and pianists was an experience I will forever cherish; I tried to absorb as much as I could. I gained more performance experience through the opera program there all the while learning the functionality of the voice and how to teach it. It was an intense two years of some of the best education I could imagine but I was still completely lost as to who I was as a person and artist which started me down the path of defining myself and my worth by my work.

Not long after graduating from WCC, I moved to Philadelphia, and at that time I didn’t think things could much lower for me because I wasn’t working and what good was I as a person if I wasn’t performing? I had just left my second Young Artist Program and there were no other prospects coming down the pipeline. My personal life was in shambles, yet again, having just broken off an engagement to someone I had met while in grad school. When I moved out, I had $800 dollars to my name, and I was couch surfing for the first two months of being in Philadelphia. It was not good. The person that helped get me through this time was Serena Benedetti.

I was introduced to Serena by another mentor, Gloria Parker. Serena came highly recommended as a great technician and that is what I needed vocally. As we began our work together though Serena became more than just a teacher to me; she was a voice-life guru. With never ending patience, she unbound my voice and my heart from all of the pain, confusion and insecurity that were keeping me from shining all of the light I had within me. She didn’t teach me how to just sing, she taught me how to live as a singer; how to value my emotional and mental health as a human first and foremost over any audition or contract. She taught me to build the life that I wanted as if singing didn’t exist by creating happiness through my core values. I took that advice, ran with it, and never looked back. She was a mother figure to me before and after my mother died, she taught me how to define what values were most important to me and how to honor them. In doing so she taught me how to build my own inner foundation out of the sand that I had inherited in order to live a rich, beautiful and fulfilling life. I am where I am now because of Serena and I will be forever grateful for her guidance.

As a performer, I consider myself a story telling soprano interested in challenging audiences’ preconceived notions of characters, especially those from Golden Age musicals. Humans are multi-faceted and complicated, and the characters based on them should not be repetitively defined and portrayed as anything less than. That shows up within my singing too; it’s multi-faceted and there is this entire palette of colors begging to be used. Discovering those colors is always the most exciting! While I want there to be a level of consistency, consistency isn’t the same as staleness. The same applies for my acting, I rarely do the same thing twice, if I do it’s because I feel very strongly about that choice.

My teaching philosophy is that every voice is unique in its beauty and strengths; no two students are the same and neither are the way they learn. I structure each lesson based on the strengths, needs, goals and learning style of each individual student through use of imagery, movement and/or demonstration. It is my goal as an instructor to help students build their self-confidence from within while growing their vocal abilities. I do this by assigning appropriate repertoire and teaching tangible and consistent vocal tools that aid in their vocal, musical, and dramatic growth. Lastly, I believe that vocal growth is not a linear endeavor; therefore, treating each lesson as its own entity, checking in with a student each lesson to gauge how to best support them during our time together based on their mental and emotional state of being is very important to me. In lessons I also focus on practice techniques, acting through song, vocal health advice, nerve management, breath control and management, role and score preparation, audition preparation, audition book building, song interpretation and musicianship.

I am proudest most of being uniquely myself in everything I do; whether it is singing, acting or teaching. I know that no one can do what I do in the same way and I know that I am organically inspiring my students and others to build their own inner-belief system that will allow them to do the same.

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?

Two things: first, success as an artist is not just defined by where, when and how much we are working or how much money we make. Defining an artist by those metrics is like saying a baby won’t be a walker because they fall down the first time tried to do so. It takes time to build those muscles and the stamina to endure countless auditions while maintaining a balanced life. Additionally, many things change within the market or casting practices that we have no control over so defining success in such a black and white way isn’t taking the entire picture into account. Second, the joys and pains of life (and their financial costs) still apply to us: bills, births, deaths, illness, marriage, new jobs, accidents, divorce, mortgages, unemployment, etc. The best way to support an artist here is to hire and pay artists regardless of how you know them. If they’re family, pay them. If they’re a friend, pay them. Exposure doesn’t pay for those unexpected or everyday life necessities. If you’re unsure of what to pay an artist, just ask them what their fee is and then honor their answer. Regardless of the event, they are basing that number on their cost of living as well as the years of training they’ve received to offer you, their talents.

In addition to paying individual artists, supporting community and regional theaters is just as important, if not more so, as supporting big theaters like The Met! Attending shows, donating time or monetarily, or sharing their marketing are just a few ways to support them. The smaller theaters are what make a community’s creative ecosystem thrive through opportunity, education, and outreach. It’s within the smaller theaters where performers of tomorrow are cutting their teeth in their craft and learning the ropes of the business. Without those safe spaces for artists to learn, the arts on every scale, big and small, will suffer.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

I think the most rewarding aspect of being a performer, especially an actor, is also the most challenging: having empathy and compassion towards the characters we portray. It’s easy to empathize with a character we identify with and enjoy; it’s an entirely different ballgame when a character’s values don’t align with our own. Characters who are perceived as the antagonists of a show are often the most interesting and require excavation far lower than the topsoil of perception. I must be able to understand why they do what they do even if I disagree with it. Having an opinion about the characters I portray is important, but it isn’t my place as a performer to insert my judgement of a character into the telling of their story, that’s the challenge. The rewarding part of this is the ability to understand why they behave the way they do to share their perspective in a way that is authentic to them. This also creates an opportunity to connect with the audience in a very vulnerably human way while offering them a chance to also (hopefully) see that character in a new light.    

Contact Info:

• Website: audracasebier.com
• Instagram: @audjsoprano
• Facebook: @Audra Casebier, soprano
• Youtube: @audracasebier554

Image Credits
The Sound of Music at Music Mountain Theatre; photo credit Kristin Gibb Photography Backstage during my Walnut Street Theatre debut in Cinderella; candid The Bisley Boy at The Ritz Theatre; photo credit Zachary Moore Philadelphia Fringe Festival; credit unknown Voice studio offerings; photo credit Emil Rodriguez-Powell National Anthem Soloist; Philadelphia Phillies; photo credit Philadelphia Phillies