Judging a Singing Contest

I once judged a singing contest. Recuperating in Bukidnon after a bout of illness which I contracted in Manila, a housing camp officer called my house one morning and pleaded for me to judge an upcoming amateur singing contest. I didn’t really want to, I was in no mood to contribute to community camaraderie and brotherhood. And besides, I was only two years into my first job and I hardly felt qualified to judge contestants who were way older than I was. You’d really know if you’ve achieved some sort of a local celebrity-status when if some people got wind of your being “home”, they’d invite you to all sorts of community activities supposedly to “inspire” people: to speak or perform before an audience.

To shut this officer up, I acquiesced. My older brother and I, as well as a male cousin were left to take charge of the house while our parents were away. And since my brother worked in the city, he flatly turned down the offer to judge.

As I have mentioned before, my family has built a von Trapp reputation in the community where I grew up. We ran a piano school during week-ends. My siblings and I, who were quite advanced in our piano studies compared to the neighborhood kids, took turns as substitute-piano teachers. My father managed the local church choir, trained the members and competed regularly in choral contests. I accompanied the choir on the piano several times.

My father and brother once judged a very long amateur singing contest with over 20 or so contestants during a fiesta celebration in Bohol, they got splitting headaches and pancit-bihon as rewards.

In my case, the contestants were mostly company employees and their dependents, some even more than twice my age. And get this, my high school teacher, Mrs. Lanticse, who sang solo during Sunday masses and other community activities, was one of them. Ack!

It’s a really weird feeling when the student is the one grading his teacher. And boy, oh boy, I knew she’d win. She picked a war-horse of a piece, an operatic version of a folk song “Sa Kabukiran” (“in the boondocks”, literally), complete with a coloratura flourish at the end, ending the piece with a high C. In terms of musicality (timing, diction, voice quality), she performed much, much better than the other contestants, who were either too nervous to look at the audience, and thus were serenading the walls and the space above the audience’s heads, or too damn dramatic (plenty of hand gestures—much like a grade school declamation piece) they forgot that there is such a thing as timing! Of course she won. It’s as if she were auditioning for a part in a Rossini opera! Personally, she should have been excluded, to give a fighting chance to the other unknown contestants. Yes?

Anyway, as I expected, I got pancit bihon (vermicelli) and a word of thanks from the organizers afterwards. Not bad.