Meet Vox Artist Korland Simmons

Q: The Sacred Between is staged within First Church Seattle, a space rich with

resonance and symbolism. How does performing in that environment influence your

sense of presence, breath, and spirituality in the role?

A: I grew up in the church—and began all of my singing there—so, it is always

special to walk into a sacred space. The stillness I usually experience in

sacred space is an important contributor to a deep, calming breath. The

presence I am able to bring to this work is deeply rooted in my own

experience being a gay man in the church. For me, the church was one of

the few places that I felt free to be my most naked emotional self, so it is

fitting to inhabit this work in that space. There’s a moment in the piece

when the character hears a voice and wonders aloud, as if to God, if there’s

someone there. This character continues to seek a spiritual connection

right up to the very end.

Q: This project reimagines La voix humaine, traditionally performed by women, through

a different lens. What has it meant to you, personally and artistically, to bring this role to

life as a tenor, and to inhabit a story long told only through a female voice?

A: Performing this work has given me an opportunity to inhabit my singing

without a lot of expectation. That lack of expectation gave me a freedom to

explore a larger concept of my voice and, through this work, I am becoming

friends with that new vocal concept. Since this work isn’t a. standard

repertoire or b. written with a man in mind, it has been an excellent tool for

lining up my vocal technique. The piece is a heavy lift, in terms of the

emotional heft and the piece’s uninterrupted length (40 min), so you have

to be vocally and emotionally efficient.

It feels special to me to interpret this piece as a gay man. Representation is

so important and I’m so honored to be part of reminding the world that

we’ve been here and we’re still here.

Q: Poulenc’s score demands deep emotional transparency. How do you navigate its

shifting colors and silences to convey the vulnerability of someone in the midst of loss?

In most singing, you have to begin with the text.

A: As I prepared to sing this, the more I lived with the words, the more I understood the emotional colors

I experienced. I attempt to incorporate those colors into how I say the text. The silences in the work give me an opportunity to react to what’s being said on the other end of this conversation. While the audience can’t hear what’s being said, my hope is to present my reaction as a window into the

unheard.

Q: The Sacred Between invites audiences to consider the thin line between love and

transcendence. How did you and your collaborators explore that spiritual dimension in

rehearsal?

A: We used a couple of specific moments in the piece to call out to the spirit, present a “sermon”, and receive the spirit via surrender. In each of these moments, we find our character struggling to make sense of this loss and beseeching the spirit world for help and comfort.

Q: As a singer, you’re not only interpreting notes and words, you’re carrying an

emotional truth. What discoveries did you make about your own voice and artistry

through this process?

A: Probably one of the best voice teachers I have had kept repeating that you have

to surrender to air. I have learned so much about engaging that surrender

through learning this piece. For as scary as it can feel, that surrender opens up a

world of artistic choices that I have otherwise felt like I struggled to maintain

before.

Q: Working with pianist Mark Davies and director Julia Benzinger, what aspects of

collaboration helped you uncover new facets of this character or score?

A: With Mark, every coaching included some new tidbit for understanding either the

harmonic structure or some rhythmic pronunciation. Both of those aspects

helped form the scaffolding for how I wanted to present this character. With Julia,

I felt as if we gave ourselves room to play and bounce ideas off one another. She

kept reminding me to find moments when I could just root myself in place and be

still.

Q: The text unfolds as one side of a final conversation. How do you create the illusion of

the unseen other, and how does that absence shape your performance?

A: I think creating that illusion is about two things: 1. Reacting to what has been

said and 2. making good use of a couple of props (a phone and, in this case, an

earbud). The reactions are not just critical to those watching the performance.

They’re critical to me as the performer; they help anchor me in what’s happening

and what’s coming up.

For me, the absent “other character” is challenging. The absence constantly

invites me to ask “who is speaking?”, “what’s being said?”, “how do I feel about

that?” The more I can respond to those questions, the more sense I can make of

why certain musical gestures are there.

Q: This project asks, “How do we say goodbye?” How did you find your own way of

answering that question through this version?

A: I think what I’ve found through this work is that you say goodbye with as much

love as possible. You remind yourself of why you loved in the first place and, in

doing so, make a peace with letting go.

Q: The Vox Project invites multiple interpretations of the same story, each refracted

through different voices and settings. What do you hope audiences carry with them after

witnessing this one?

A: I hope audiences leave this interpretation feeling as if they have been part of

holding space for a powerful emotional journey. I want them to come with me on

this journey and to be a part of the support that gets any of us through challenging times.