Ouellette’s
reading of American Idol calls my
attention to The Voice, another
singing competition show which aired its twelfth season on February 27th.
I’ll try not to go too far off topic, though I make no promises, because this
is a series I follow with much passion. In the realm of paralleling this
competition show to a democratic election, the “electoral” process of selection
on The Voice reveals deeper levels of
complexity than American Idol. The Voice is a five-stage competition
between not only the vocalist contestants but between four celebrity coaches
who pick twelve vocalists to be on their team. The winner of the voice also
determines the winning coach. Prided on selection by voice not looks, the show does a good job at veiling the work of
commodified “trauma” as MCarthy highlights in her reading of Random 1. During the Blind Audition of The Voice, the spectator at home watches
a short clip about chosen contests before they audition. Oftentimes the clip
highlights a traumatic event that the contestant has had to go through before
obtaining their opportunity to be on the show, whether it be the loss of a
family member, a drug addiction, having kids at an early age, being bullied, or
growing up in a single parent household. This means, that from the start of the
show, potential voters know more about and actually “see” the contestant before
they audition, unlike the coaches who are the only ones kept blind. Though it’s
an admirable thing to believe that someone is chosen simply for their talent,
the fact that the audience is the ultimate determinant of who wins the
competition, not the coaches—the informational clip negates the premise and
promise of the show. Unless there’s a way to disguise each contestant
throughout the entire process, the winner is unfortunately never determined solely on their voice. But what I think this show
unveils about a democratic process is the way in which our freedom to choice is
complicated by our own agendas and desires, by manipulation, by our influences
from popular culture, by comparison of each contestant amongst the group of contestants,
etc. The reality of the show is obviously not in the spectacle of each vocalist
and the dramatization of their story, but of the insidious manipulations at
work during an election process.
I am also a huge fan of The Voice particularly because I watch it as an exemplarily uplifting show. But underneath my so-called-obsession (as my friends say), I have a mild resentment toward the show because I recognize that it traffics in common logics of neoliberalism and individualism. This is nothing new to the Reality-TV Singing Competition genre, and you do a great job pointing out how The Voice might epitomize these narratives of “meritocracy,” “overcoming trauma,” and self-determination by exposing the viewer to competitor’s “story” before we are even exposed to their voice. Perhaps to extend your analysis, trauma or “struggle” (broadly) in the show gains currency as a necessity for one to have “the voice.” This is not only on the level of one’s personal story that the viewer is privileged to before each audition but also in the actual vocal performance. I am thinking of so many singers who are criticized for “too polished” or “too professional” because the judges are looking to hear someone who sings “from a real place”—coded language for the pleasures of listening to someone’s trauma or struggle.” Without this key ingredient, one cannot have “the voice.”
ReplyDeleteAs a separate comment that I won’t go into too much, I have always been extremely frustrated with the racial dynamics at play in The Voice. Season after season, competitors of color continuously lose out to white singers who have a “soul” voice—as if this element of “surprise” or “shock” adds to these competitors’ esteem on the show. And of course, this is seeped deeply in histories of appropriation and profit within the music industry. I spend a lot of time every season ranting about this to friends, but yet I still continue to watch the show…