I hear you’re asking around
If I’m anywhere to be found.
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back into your arms.
“Jar of Hearts,” Christina Perri
For a while, Megan Sutton’s heart was broken.
Most people who have been through a teenage break-up know the feeling — that you would never love again; that the world would never be the same.
But when she showed up to a voice lesson — from the moment she entered Gold City House of Music — she knew two things.
First, her vocal coach, Bri Worek, would not be able to get through the session knowing that something was eating at one of her students.
“All of my students … they are all like my family members or my kids. And sometimes, heavy stuff comes up in a class — like very heavy, deeply emotional things. So, while it’s not a therapy session, the voice is just so personal and if you have a wall up, it’s not going to work. It’s not uncommon that my students just break down crying — seemingly for no particular reason,” Bri said. “I’ll be like, ‘OK. What’s going on?’ I know something’s not right, and I can’t continue on with a class if I legitimately feel like my student is not fine.”
So, Megan knew there might be a conversation — perhaps tears shed — but the singing would not commence until the “what’s wrong” was laid out onto the table.
And she also understood that the music would ultimately open up a space for healing.
“Me and Bri, we were looking at some songs, and ‘Jar of Hearts’ really spoke to me,” Megan said. “I was pretty emotional, and I think that really helped. I think music is a great way to express your emotions.”
For Megan and the many others who have enlisted Bri to help them find — and strengthen — their voices, vocal sessions are about so much more than hitting the right notes or picking the right song for an upcoming audition.
They share a bond that’s difficult to explain, yet impossible to ignore when you witness them interacting.
“She’s like another mother to me,” Megan said. “I can talk to her about anything.”
Home is where I want to be
But I guess I’m already there.
I come home, she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place.
I can’t tell one from another
Did I find you, or did you find me?
“This Must Be the Place,” Talking Heads
Patricia Amory is standing behind the counter inside Gold City listening as the Talking Heads’ “Stop Making Sense” blares over the speakers — and quips about having “the best first job ever” as a record store employee.
There is no denying that Bri has left an indelible mark in the three years since the two started working together.
“I’m always safe with Bri. I’m always comfortable with Bri. Bri is not going to do anything to hurt my feelings,” Patricia says. “I talk about this a lot with my friends. Singing is very emotional for me. It touches a really deep part of my soul. And so, if I am struggling with a certain note or a certain technique, it gets really frustrating. And when I get frustrated, I cry. I have cried in vocal lessons too many times to count. But Bri doesn’t care. She just keeps going and talks me through it.”
For this particular teenager, music and theater are forms of expression that have made life significantly better.
And when hardships — like a parental break-up — took hold, that ability to let go of those emotions through performing was a savior.
“Being vulnerable on stage with my voice, it really means a lot to me. It’s a great release that I think I really need,” Patricia said. “And Bri, she means a lot to me because she brings music close to home. She knows how much I need performing in my life, but she never makes me feel less than for being vulnerable.”
Alone is alone
Not alive.
Somebody crowd me with love.
Somebody force me to care.
Somebody let me come through.
I’ll always be there
As frightened as you.
To help us survive
Being alive.
Being alive.
Being alive.
“Being Alive,” Stephen Sondheim
Niko Martin steps up to the microphone and waits for his cue.
Bri has chosen a fairly standard warm-up for him to run through at the onset of his lesson, and when she starts to play the piano, he begins an octave exercise.
“You’re a little flat,” Bri says.
Niko nods his head and continues.
“That was nice,” his coach tells him moments later.
The teenager respects Bri’s honesty.
In fact, it’s one of the qualities that has kept him coming back to Gold City for more than a year.
“She keeps it very real. If I mess up, she tells me I messed up. It’s not in a way that feels condescending. It’s in a way of growth,” Niko said. “I’ll always have lessons where I just don’t feel like I’m doing great. That would be a constant anywhere. But, on the good days where I know I’m making progress … and I’m really reaching the goals that she and I have set for me, those days make this place feel like home.”
The young man picked up musical theater “on a whim” because he “didn’t have anything to do” his sophomore year of high school.
And after his first production with StageStruck, he had a moment of clarity.
“I realized that if I wanted to turn this into something more than just an after-school activity, I needed some help vocally,” he said.
Bri turned out to be the answer.
“There’s just something about being in here with her. As I’ve done this longer and longer, that anxiety of being up there (on stage) has faded, and I don’t know if after my first month, I ever felt dread when I had to come here and sing,” Niko said. “I think that was definitely a game-changer.”
And when, after months of practicing “Being Alive” for a recital, he performed the song, it felt “symbolic” of “how far I had come and how far I could go.”
“It was my first song where I felt I could put me into it and it not be me playing a character, but just Niko telling a story,” he said. “It went over very well and was one of my first moments that I felt confident in my abilities.”
Bri agrees.
“It was very, very emotional,” she said, looking across her office at her student. “It was a very deep moment that picked up in such an emotional way. It took the breath out of you.”
Young girl, don’t cry.
I’ll be right here when your world starts to fall.
Young girl, it’s alright.
Your tears will dry, you’ll soon be free to fly.
When you’re safe inside your room, you tend to dream.
Of a place where nothing’s harder than it seems.
No one ever wants or bothers to explain
Of the heartache life can bring or what it means.
When there’s no one else, look inside yourself.
Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within.
Then you’ll find the strength that will guide your way.
You’ll learn to begin to trust the voice within.
“The Voice Within,” Christina Aguilera
Bri can’t tell you the name of one song — or one performer or group — that has molded her into the mentor and role model she has become for students like Niko, Megan, and Patricia.
But she has “a lot of sentimentalities with music,” and it has, in many ways, provided a soundtrack for her life since she was old enough to pay attention.
Religious tracks take her back to the little girl singing alongside her mother in church.
The Beatles remind her of her father.
Alternative rock from the 1990s stirs memories with her brother.
Listening to soul makes her think of her partner.
For Bri, music has the power to change everything from one’s emotion to their outlook on life.
And for those who have shared vulnerable moments through song inside her office at Gold City, her hope is that beyond improvements to their respective voices or learning new techniques, the time spent with her has inspired them to dream — and to believe in themselves enough to chase all of the possibilities she believes are waiting for them to pursue.
“I feel like confidence is kind of the No. 1 thing that I teach. I kind of joke that, ‘You guys have this figured out. I’m just a confidence coach who happens to sing a little bit,’” Bri said. “To me, that’s really what it is.”
So, it is easy for her to identify the song that makes her think about her students — about how fortunate she feels to be a part of their lives, their family.
She can’t even get four measures into Christina Aguilera’s “The Voice Within” without tears falling.
Now in a world where innocence is quickly claimed
It’s so hard to stand your ground when you’re so afraid.
No one reaches out a hand for you to hold
When you’re lost outside, look inside to your soul.
When there’s no one else, look inside yourself.
Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within.
Then you’ll find the strength that will guide you on your way.
