We recently connected with Mikki Sodergren and have shared our conversation below.
Mikki, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to hear the backstory behind a risk you’ve taken – whether big or small, walk us through what it was like and how it ultimately turned out.
My risk-taking journey has been almost my entire adult life, which has led to a unique full-circle moment that I never expected.
When I was a teenager, I fell in love with opera. I dreamed of one day singing on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera in New York, and having an illustrious solo operatic career as a mezzo-soprano, following in the footsteps of some of my favorite artists, such as Frederica von Stade and Elina Garanca. I dedicated my life to this pursuit at a young age, leaving my high school and hometown at the age of 16 to attend a prestigious arts boarding high school called Interlochen Arts Academy, in northern Michigan. I missed prom and other formative high school moments with my group of friends, all in the name of dutifully studying classical music at the highest level. I spent summers in college studying at vocal intensives to further hone my craft, make connections, and serve the art. However, by the ripe old age of 23, I was already disillusioned – I had been summarily disinvited from some of these intensives due to a few reasons – interest in other styles of music (the horror!) and interest by older male faculty in the programs, which would create awkward situations for me, and also awkward situations for administrators – situations they would rather not deal with.
Most opera singers apply for and take part in YAPs – Young Artist Programs, where they are paid very little to move to another city for a few months, a year, or more, and study with the internal coaches at an opera house, perform smaller roles in operas on the Mainstage, and cover principal roles – to cover is to learn roles in case you are called to perform them in a pinch. I did not take that path. From the operatic perspective, I gave up. I felt unwanted my many interactions where I was teased and demeaned by administrators for wanting to perform popular styles of music, and was treated as if I sang classical music in a pop style, which I worked very hard to not do. “Cute. It’s like Mikki does Mozart!” is a favorite to this day, mocking my offering of performing Zerlina in Don Giovanni in rehearsal at a summer intensive. I instead pursued musical theater, auditioning for hundreds of musicals, including leading Broadway auditions and callbacks. I made a living through singing in choirs in New York, and managing an arts organization in Savannah, Georgia, called the American Traditions Vocal Collection, that helped sustain me. The American Traditions Vocal Collection, unlike the operatic intensives, honors and encourages artists to explore and perform different styles of music ; with this organization, I was offered a musical home.
In January of 2020, I was in a recording with one of my favorite choral ensembles, the Clarion Choir. We were laying down a very special, long-term project of the group: Rachmaninoff’s All Night Vigil, known colloquially as his Vespers. One of the singers in the group sang with the Chorus at the Metropolitan Opera, and he invited the Chorus Director to the recording session in a dark, damp, resonant Orthodox Church on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The Met’s Chorus Director was so taken with our collective sound, he invited us all to audition for the Met Chorus, and I laughed and said “Yeah RIGHT!” I had written off opera so very long ago that it seemed preposterous, but a few friends were going to do this audition, so I decided to tag along. In mid-February 2020, I sang an aria – an operatic solo – that I hadn’t touched in about 10 years for my Met Opera Chorus audition, and the next day went on to an invited, late-stage audition for Elphaba in Wicked on Broadway. Both of these felt like long-shots and also teenage dreams realized, just to get to the precipice of having the audition; being invited and welcomed to these institutions. To have the back to back blew my mind.
The timeline is important in this story, because of course, about a month later the world shut down from the COVID-19 pandemic, and the performing artists of the world were all out on the streets, financially, all claiming unemployment. The whole Met Chorus (and orchestra) was furloughed for over a year, and the woman who was cast in Wicked (not me) had her run cut short. I moved to Savannah, Georgia to continue to care for and focus on the nonprofit I manage – tbe American Traditions Vocal Collection. Time went on, and I started to slow into my sweet, suburban life – now complete with a dishwasher. (Something I only dreamed of in NYC!)
In late July of 2021, I received an email out of the blue that the Metropolitan Opera was reopening, and would I join them for a special performance of Verdi’s monumental Requiem, honoring the 20th anniversary of 9/11? I immediately said yes, and worked out my travel details. I was then asked to perform Mahler’s 2nd Symphony about a week earlier, and join for the opera Boris Godunov in September and October. Unable to leave my home for that long, I declined the opera, but sang the two concerts. I re-auditioned for the Chorus in November on a same-day flight and prepared to never hear again.
My colleagues in the Extra Chorus – as the supplemental singers to the Met Opera Chorus are called – had already received some offers for the coming year and I had made my peace with it. I had begun a job to supplement my nonprofit work in Savannah at a large hotel, where I would be helping to manage the on-property music offerings, beginning in May of 2022, and was starting to get used to wearing suits everyday for my new, very corporate job. I was driving to a concert over the weekend after beginning this position when I received one of those phone calls from The Metropolitan Opera’s number for donations. I picked up the phone and politely cut off the caller by stating that I was an out-of-work singer, and could not contribute at this time. To my surprise, the caller paused and asked if I might be willing to hear about a job offer: a member of the Full Time Chorus was taking a year-long leave of sabbatical, and would I like to have their spot for the next year?
Here’s the kicker of a risk: It required me to move back to New York in six weeks from that phone call and commit to a year, with no promise of any renewal. I thought about it, called friends, called mentors, thought about how much I missed New York. How I had quite literally just started this new job at a hotel. How I had settled into a three bedroom house in Savannah, and how would I deal with that? I mulled and considered and decided to take one of the greatest leaps of faith of my life, and I moved to New York and started a new job in the Metropolitan Opera Chorus where I worked to the bone every day, learning 21 operas which were brand new to me and performing over 250 performances that first year – the strangest, most circuitous journey to get to what I wanted as a teenager – a career as a full-time performer. It didn’t look how I thought it would look. I didn’t get there the way I thought I would, but when I was informed that someone had retired at the end of the season and was offered a full-time place for the rest of my career, the answer came without a thought: Yes.
Mikki, 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 am a professional vocalist, arts administrator and a big believer in learning all you can. I am absolutely not a snob about music. I love to listen to all kinds, and love to perform many genres of music, as well. As an arts administrator, I serve as the Executive and Artistic Director of the American Traditions Vocal Collection, an organization dedicated to the performance, celebration and preservation of all classic styles of American music. These styles range from Spirituals to Jazz, Broadway to Hollywood films, Opera to Country and beyond, and all equally American in what we offer. This mission deeply resonates with me as a performer, so it has been really nourishing for me as an artist to not only meet other like-minded artists, but to help curate and prepare a vehicle for them to delve deeper into multi-genre careers and interests.
As a musician, I feel completely claustrophobic by the idea of only performing one style of music, and being pigeon-holed in that way. I have found that I’m the most vibrant with variety. Unfortunately, the performing arts world still largely thrives off of single-genre artists and the boxes they are placed into. In contrast, I am happy shifting through different styles, even if it means less lucrative work. The performing arts remain a field to enter only if you don’t care about getting rich in your life.
I have been lucky to perform with symphonies around the country and world, to curate concert series for various orchestras, and special one-off concerts as well. Symphonies reach out to me when they need help with casting concerts sometimes, and I am always thrilled to make recommendations of artists I believe in. In some ways, I also work as an unpaid agent, and feel lucky to be in a position where I can make opportunities happen for fantastic artists who may not yet be known entities.
Have any books or other resources had a big impact on you?
One of the most important books I read was a gift. My father gave me a gift of a few books for my birthday one year, and one was called ‘How Women Decide’ by Therese Huston. For about a year, I didn’t read it, as I didn’t understand what the book was. I thought it was a book about women learning to make better decisions or something reductive. Instead, it is case study after case study, after anecdote, after real-world moment of women proving they are some of the best decision makers in the world. I have been asked, as a nonprofit leader, to “soften my approach,” or to ask for more advice, rather than share my opinion in the past. This book helped me to stand my ground, value what I actually bring to the table, and develop a board who is multi-faceted and shares as many diverse view points as possible, which has helped to make our organization stronger.
One of the reasons I value my own opinion, and the board agrees? I am the exact target audience for our organization, and for most arts organizations. There is a huge push right now to stretch what classical arts audiences look like, and especially to generate attention from younger people. Ironically, many arts organizations attempt to do this without ever asking a person under 40 who likes the arts. I am lucky to be in that demographic, with a wealth of friends in the demographic as well. ‘How Women Decide’ helped me learn how to zoom out and look at a big picture when problem solving in an organization, and also to value my own voice in the equation.
How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
There are two fantastic ways to support artists and creatives: attend their work and when possible, support the work of nonprofits. Artists often forsake a living wage for the opportunity to make art, or they have a job which provides them with a living wage, but they have little to no time or bandwidth to create their art. If we want to help create a thriving creative ecosystem in this country, we have to support the organizations who create opportunities for artists, we have to pay artists, and not just pay them, but pay them what they’re worth. Many for-profit companies will hire artists and think of them as an hourly worker, but what needs to be considered in pay scale is how many hours this artist spent preparing, how many years of schooling, how many student loans they were (or are still) paying off – these are all parts of the equation, and art is not cheap to learn about, or to create. In voice, for example, singers need to work with a teacher to improve their range, their technique, the quality of their craft, and sometimes their network – voice teachers in New York can range from $145 – $500 per lesson, and that doesn’t include the schooling, the language study, the wardrobe, the housing…the list goes on. If you’re in a personal place to be generous to an artist or to an organization, I really encourage making a gift. Buy the album, buy the tickets, like their social media posts. It all matters and all amounts to support.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, the arts were declared an unnecessary profession, yet as everyone sat at home – they turned to the arts for entertainment, connection and reprieve. Maybe they’re actually the most necessary part of human connection, and should be compensated with great respect.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.mikkisodergren.com
- Instagram: @mikki.sodergren
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mikkimsodergren/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/mikki-sodergren-a9678020
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8OS_qI_slojKJYZi6QDSuA
Image Credits
Taylor Noel Photography, Corinne Louie Photography, Karjaka Studios, John Carrington Photography