Congrats to three of my colleagues from the Santa Fe Opera YAP Class of 2005 - CB, JB, and MF - on their wins at the George London Finals yesterday! CB won the Wagner prize, JB another $10k prize, and MF an Encouragement award. I met up with CB and JB for drinks afterward, and while it would, of course, have been nice to be celebrating my own win, I was so happy to be with colleagues who are good friends and whose successes I am so proud of. And, hey, they were buying!
There will also be three SFO '05'ers at Wolf Trap, all of us sopranos! I can't wait to be around RC's infectious laugh and BF's sweet spirit (and killer high notes!) again.
Way to go, team!!
Showing posts with label Santa Fe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Santa Fe. Show all posts
Friday, March 02, 2007
Monday, October 23, 2006
Take that
Not only did I sing Regnava at the audition today, I started with it.
Take that, Fear!
Somebody ate their Wheaties this morning. (Actually, it was granola with vanilla yogurt and blueberries.) And my manager’s response? “Well, I expect to hear a lot more of that aria this fall!”
Yes, ma’am.
Take that, Fear!
Somebody ate their Wheaties this morning. (Actually, it was granola with vanilla yogurt and blueberries.) And my manager’s response? “Well, I expect to hear a lot more of that aria this fall!”
Yes, ma’am.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Last week
Just a quick note to say that my folks are in town, along with my grandmother, for a few days. They didn't get to see the Scenes Program on Sunday, but they saw Cendrillon last night and loved it. I believe my grandmother might have said something along the lines of "I didn't know opera could be so much fun!" Only when we're lucky!
The scene itself went beautifully. I was very nervous, since even in the dress rehearsal I had missed an entrance or two. Lots of counting going on in that scene! But when the time came, everybody hit their marks, and we presented a great scene. At the end of the duet, Sophie and Octavian sing "Den will ich nie vergessen, bis an meinen Tod." "I will never forget this, not until my death." As the words and beautiful melody left my throat, joining with PM's, I told myself that I really wouldn't. I won't forget that moment. It is a moment for returning to in a rocker on the porch, fifty years from now, for saying "Remember when...?"
I left the stage feeling a bit like I'd been interrupted, though: I wanted to keep going, to do the rest of the opera! Someday, though, and hopefully soon.
Things are winding down here, with everyone getting ready for the next phase of their lives. We run the gammut: returning to school, taking time off to "see what's out there," starting or returning to a year-long young artist program, making the move or returning to the Big City, or simply going home to continue the work of building a career. Nothing simple about that, actually.
I'll be spending this last week organizing and polishing rep for auditions (they are already starting to come in for the fall), doing some writing (lots to catch up on here!), finishing up the yoga classes I already paid for, packing and cleaning, and generally relaxing and enjoying this lovely house before I start the insanity of moving to and living in New York.
The scene itself went beautifully. I was very nervous, since even in the dress rehearsal I had missed an entrance or two. Lots of counting going on in that scene! But when the time came, everybody hit their marks, and we presented a great scene. At the end of the duet, Sophie and Octavian sing "Den will ich nie vergessen, bis an meinen Tod." "I will never forget this, not until my death." As the words and beautiful melody left my throat, joining with PM's, I told myself that I really wouldn't. I won't forget that moment. It is a moment for returning to in a rocker on the porch, fifty years from now, for saying "Remember when...?"
I left the stage feeling a bit like I'd been interrupted, though: I wanted to keep going, to do the rest of the opera! Someday, though, and hopefully soon.
Things are winding down here, with everyone getting ready for the next phase of their lives. We run the gammut: returning to school, taking time off to "see what's out there," starting or returning to a year-long young artist program, making the move or returning to the Big City, or simply going home to continue the work of building a career. Nothing simple about that, actually.
I'll be spending this last week organizing and polishing rep for auditions (they are already starting to come in for the fall), doing some writing (lots to catch up on here!), finishing up the yoga classes I already paid for, packing and cleaning, and generally relaxing and enjoying this lovely house before I start the insanity of moving to and living in New York.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Changes
There are certain elements of theater life that I have enjoyed despite (or because of?) their oddity or tedium. I recognized the first one in college theatre productions – tech rehearsals. We would have to stay at the theater for hours, late into the night, doing a “cue to cue,” a technical rehearsal in which the performers move through the blocking, starting and stopping while the tech crew focuses lights, adjusts sets, etc.. It was a process that most of my colleagues found incredibly boring, and I’m sure I did, too, at times. But I remember standing in my spot on stage watching the activity around me and knowing that it was all part of the process. That the long night was a crucial factor to opening night success. (It also often ended with a late night trip to Waffle House…)
These days, at this level, the performers aren’t used at tech rehearsals. Members of the running crew or stage management take our places – standing, sitting, running around, or lying down in our stead while we sleep in our little beds (or, while we’re supposed to be sleeping…). I observed a bit of an Ainadamar tech rehearsal last summer. They were focusing the last 20 minutes of the opera, which Dawn Upshaw spent flat on her back, and sure enough, there was Jodie on the ground, taking Dawn’s place. I complimented her the next day on her mastery of the blocking! As much as I wouldn’t want to stay up until 4am doing cue-to-cue rehearsals here in Santa Fe, I sometimes miss that aspect of amateur theatre.
My other favorite quirk, however, would never work with a stand-in. “Quick changes” are costume changes that need to be made in far less time than one would prefer! If you have an elaborate costume or a wig to change, five minutes might constitute a quick change, or you can be dealing with a matter of seconds. In Carmen, there are about a dozen choristers who have 90 seconds to change from gypsies to fancy town folk, complete with wigs, hats, shoes, and clothes. Backstage is a sight! Talk about organized chaos. But we make it every time, with room to spare.
That’s one of the things I love about quick changes. You always start thinking, “What? 90 seconds? No way.” And maybe you miss the first one or two (only in rehearsal; that’s why we rehearse…), but by closing night you practically have time for a cocktail! It’s a little victory every night, one that the audience generally takes for granted. A little secret.
In Cendrillon, I have about 60 seconds to get out of my opening costume and into my ball gown. Everyone knew this would be a tight one from the very beginning, so the costume department devised the perfect solution. Both dresses have one big zipper down the back so, in theory, the change should go like this: run off stage, meet my dressers (C & S), unzip, drop the first dress, arms in the second, kick off my shoes, zip up, run onstage. I love it!
But, of course, that’s just the theory. In reality we’ve had a bit of trouble! Monday was the first dress rehearsal, and somehow, even though I had tried the dress on three days earlier, the ball gown was too small. Before you make any snide comments about all the enchiladas I’ve been eating, when I tried it on last, it was missing several layers at the waist. Through the baffling physics of costumery, when the waistband was finished, it got smaller. (I don’t get it either, but believe me, it’s true!) So even though we had enough time for the change, the back zipper couldn’t make it all the way up. After three attempts at the change, we ended up just sending me on with the dress unzipped. It was a challenge for me to exicute the intricate blocking while trying to hold up my dress - and keep singing! Rather hysterical, I have to say!
Last night, they had adjusted the fit, but there was trouble with the zipper itself. In order for this costume idea to work, they had to find separating zippers long enough for the entire length of the dress, about 60 inches. They ordered YKK “zipper by the yard,” but until it arrived, they improvised by ripping the zipper out of a child’s sleeping bag and installing it into the dress! Ingenuity at work, I tell you. The sleeping bag zipper couldn’t handle all the fabric sewed to and around it; it just didn’t have the heft. So for the scene last night, I made it on to stage in time, but was totally unzipped in the back. Another lesson in thinking on my feet! It wasn’t falling off of me though, since we at least got the hook and eye at the top done up.
For tomorrow’s final dress, I am completely confident that we will make it with time to spare. And if we don’t? Well, that’s why we rehearse.
These days, at this level, the performers aren’t used at tech rehearsals. Members of the running crew or stage management take our places – standing, sitting, running around, or lying down in our stead while we sleep in our little beds (or, while we’re supposed to be sleeping…). I observed a bit of an Ainadamar tech rehearsal last summer. They were focusing the last 20 minutes of the opera, which Dawn Upshaw spent flat on her back, and sure enough, there was Jodie on the ground, taking Dawn’s place. I complimented her the next day on her mastery of the blocking! As much as I wouldn’t want to stay up until 4am doing cue-to-cue rehearsals here in Santa Fe, I sometimes miss that aspect of amateur theatre.
My other favorite quirk, however, would never work with a stand-in. “Quick changes” are costume changes that need to be made in far less time than one would prefer! If you have an elaborate costume or a wig to change, five minutes might constitute a quick change, or you can be dealing with a matter of seconds. In Carmen, there are about a dozen choristers who have 90 seconds to change from gypsies to fancy town folk, complete with wigs, hats, shoes, and clothes. Backstage is a sight! Talk about organized chaos. But we make it every time, with room to spare.
That’s one of the things I love about quick changes. You always start thinking, “What? 90 seconds? No way.” And maybe you miss the first one or two (only in rehearsal; that’s why we rehearse…), but by closing night you practically have time for a cocktail! It’s a little victory every night, one that the audience generally takes for granted. A little secret.
In Cendrillon, I have about 60 seconds to get out of my opening costume and into my ball gown. Everyone knew this would be a tight one from the very beginning, so the costume department devised the perfect solution. Both dresses have one big zipper down the back so, in theory, the change should go like this: run off stage, meet my dressers (C & S), unzip, drop the first dress, arms in the second, kick off my shoes, zip up, run onstage. I love it!
But, of course, that’s just the theory. In reality we’ve had a bit of trouble! Monday was the first dress rehearsal, and somehow, even though I had tried the dress on three days earlier, the ball gown was too small. Before you make any snide comments about all the enchiladas I’ve been eating, when I tried it on last, it was missing several layers at the waist. Through the baffling physics of costumery, when the waistband was finished, it got smaller. (I don’t get it either, but believe me, it’s true!) So even though we had enough time for the change, the back zipper couldn’t make it all the way up. After three attempts at the change, we ended up just sending me on with the dress unzipped. It was a challenge for me to exicute the intricate blocking while trying to hold up my dress - and keep singing! Rather hysterical, I have to say!
Last night, they had adjusted the fit, but there was trouble with the zipper itself. In order for this costume idea to work, they had to find separating zippers long enough for the entire length of the dress, about 60 inches. They ordered YKK “zipper by the yard,” but until it arrived, they improvised by ripping the zipper out of a child’s sleeping bag and installing it into the dress! Ingenuity at work, I tell you. The sleeping bag zipper couldn’t handle all the fabric sewed to and around it; it just didn’t have the heft. So for the scene last night, I made it on to stage in time, but was totally unzipped in the back. Another lesson in thinking on my feet! It wasn’t falling off of me though, since we at least got the hook and eye at the top done up.
For tomorrow’s final dress, I am completely confident that we will make it with time to spare. And if we don’t? Well, that’s why we rehearse.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Never before…
Never before in the history of Santa Fe Opera have these words been spoken:
“Due to the humidity, there is a slight warp in the floor, so please be aware as you walk on the stage.”
Humidity? What is that??!!
Seriously, though, it has been humid here for the past few days. Wet and cool, and rather disconcerting. What happened to the dibilitating dryness of three weeks ago? The land and people are happy for all the rain, as am I, truth be told, but I don’t like leaving the stage after a frantic scene drenched in sweat. I feel like I’m in the Berkshires again! Ok, maybe not quite that bad, but it’s weird.
The next week looks like this:
Tonight: Carmen
Tomorrow: the Ballet (plus a “picnic dans la foret” with the cast and crew of Cendrillon)
Monday: Cendrillon piano dress rehearsal
Tuesday: Cendrillon 1st Orchestra dress
Wednesday: Magic Flute
Thursday: Cendrillon final orchestra dress
Friday: Carmen
Saturday: Cendrillon Opening Night!!
Time for resting whenever possible, drinking lots of water, yoga, eating my veggies, all that good stuff. The show is in great shape, so I want to make sure that I am, too!
“Due to the humidity, there is a slight warp in the floor, so please be aware as you walk on the stage.”
Humidity? What is that??!!
Seriously, though, it has been humid here for the past few days. Wet and cool, and rather disconcerting. What happened to the dibilitating dryness of three weeks ago? The land and people are happy for all the rain, as am I, truth be told, but I don’t like leaving the stage after a frantic scene drenched in sweat. I feel like I’m in the Berkshires again! Ok, maybe not quite that bad, but it’s weird.
The next week looks like this:
Tonight: Carmen
Tomorrow: the Ballet (plus a “picnic dans la foret” with the cast and crew of Cendrillon)
Monday: Cendrillon piano dress rehearsal
Tuesday: Cendrillon 1st Orchestra dress
Wednesday: Magic Flute
Thursday: Cendrillon final orchestra dress
Friday: Carmen
Saturday: Cendrillon Opening Night!!
Time for resting whenever possible, drinking lots of water, yoga, eating my veggies, all that good stuff. The show is in great shape, so I want to make sure that I am, too!
Friday, June 30, 2006
Opening
Tonight is Opening Night! Carmen tonight, and Magic Flute tomorrow. Both shows are in great shape, ready for the energy that the audience brings. Someone asked me if I was excited about tonight, and I am, but only because I know that the real excitement will arrive when I hear the downbeat and wait in the wings. At this moment, I’ve been home from rehearsal (four hours of Cendrillon) for an hour or so, had my dinner, and am now preparing to go back to the theatre, a routine I’ve been through every night this week. So right now it just feels like “another day at the office,” if you will. But! It will feel different soon enough…
I wear a wig (two different wigs, actually) for Carmen, and I’m looking forward to attending this evening’s afterparty with my wavy, bouncy pin-curl hair. It won’t be a long party, though, as I have another full afternoon of Cendrillon tomorrow. We’ve staged the entire thing, and now it’s time for detail work and repetition. Monday we’ll do a full run-through in the rehearsal space, and then on Tuesday we’ll get to be on the stage with the set!
In other news, we were all assigned our scenes for the Showcase yesterday. This year I’ll be singing (drum roll, please…) Sophie in Rosenkavalier! We’ll be doing the opening of Act II, which includes the famous (and breathtakingly beautiful) “Presentation of the Rose” duet. It’s a nice long scene, from the opening bars of Act II through the sweet conversation between Octavian and Sophie, right up to (but not including) the entrance of the Baron. A sweet friend from grad school and Tanglewood, PM, will be my Octavian, and I am thrilled!
The other assignments are great, too, and include scenes from operas old and new: Mitradite, Barber of Seville, A View from the Bridge, Dead Man Walking, Arabella, Clemenza di Tito, Eugene Onegin, La Rondine, Billy Budd, Pelleas et Melisande, and several others I can’t remember off the top of my head. These will be some amazing nights of singing.
And with Cendrillon almost on its feet, I can start digging into that gorgeous Strauss…
I wear a wig (two different wigs, actually) for Carmen, and I’m looking forward to attending this evening’s afterparty with my wavy, bouncy pin-curl hair. It won’t be a long party, though, as I have another full afternoon of Cendrillon tomorrow. We’ve staged the entire thing, and now it’s time for detail work and repetition. Monday we’ll do a full run-through in the rehearsal space, and then on Tuesday we’ll get to be on the stage with the set!
In other news, we were all assigned our scenes for the Showcase yesterday. This year I’ll be singing (drum roll, please…) Sophie in Rosenkavalier! We’ll be doing the opening of Act II, which includes the famous (and breathtakingly beautiful) “Presentation of the Rose” duet. It’s a nice long scene, from the opening bars of Act II through the sweet conversation between Octavian and Sophie, right up to (but not including) the entrance of the Baron. A sweet friend from grad school and Tanglewood, PM, will be my Octavian, and I am thrilled!
The other assignments are great, too, and include scenes from operas old and new: Mitradite, Barber of Seville, A View from the Bridge, Dead Man Walking, Arabella, Clemenza di Tito, Eugene Onegin, La Rondine, Billy Budd, Pelleas et Melisande, and several others I can’t remember off the top of my head. These will be some amazing nights of singing.
And with Cendrillon almost on its feet, I can start digging into that gorgeous Strauss…
Friday, June 23, 2006
It begins
It has been a crazy few days, as to be expected, and tonight we start our summer of evenings and nights at the theater. I was talking with a friend today about the joy of watching the sunset off the back deck of the theater after getting into costume, waiting for our call to “places” and the thrill of the downbeat while watching a show every bit as spectacular (sometime more so…) then the operas we perform. Then, after the performance, walking back to the car under a clear sky positively filled with stars. Cool enough to need a sweater, even though it topped 90 degrees that afternoon. It doesn’t get much better than that…
It has also been unbelievable dry this summer, more so than last year, and I’m really feeling it. I got pretty dehydrated on Tuesday (but I didn’t faint!), and for the past few days have felt a weird tickle in my throat. When I woke up this morning barely able to talk, I knew that dehydration had really hit me. So today I didn’t sing, I bought a humidifier for my bedside, and I drank water like it was going out of style. The fact that I drank four liters of water (at least) and wasn’t in the ladies’ room every 30 minutes drove home the fact that I was truly parched! Scary.
A few posts and articles of interest:
Chiara has some wonderful thoughts on singing today. I love to hear non-professionals talk about music and singing, since we full-timers can often forget the basic joy of creating music. Of feeling “the noise physically sweep out of your lungs and throat.” A gift.
CT the DT has reached a milestone on her life’s path. I don’t think I realized how scared I was, too, until I heard the relief and joy in her voice when she called me. I
Nicholas Nackley, a colleague of mine from grad school, had a great feature in the Boston Globe last week. It’s always cool to read about my classmates’ successes. I haven’t seen Nick for a few years, but if you see him, asking him about the Barbara Bonney masterclass!
Nick’s profile was related to the premiere of Angels in America by Opera Unlimited in Boston, lead by Gil Rose and starring several colleagues: Tom Meglioranza (read about his experiences at Tomness), Amanda Forsythe, Anne Harley, and Drew Poling (as well as Nick.). It sounds like it was an incredible performance, and I’m so proud to know the people bringing this important work to life.
I’m off to the theater!
It has also been unbelievable dry this summer, more so than last year, and I’m really feeling it. I got pretty dehydrated on Tuesday (but I didn’t faint!), and for the past few days have felt a weird tickle in my throat. When I woke up this morning barely able to talk, I knew that dehydration had really hit me. So today I didn’t sing, I bought a humidifier for my bedside, and I drank water like it was going out of style. The fact that I drank four liters of water (at least) and wasn’t in the ladies’ room every 30 minutes drove home the fact that I was truly parched! Scary.
A few posts and articles of interest:
Chiara has some wonderful thoughts on singing today. I love to hear non-professionals talk about music and singing, since we full-timers can often forget the basic joy of creating music. Of feeling “the noise physically sweep out of your lungs and throat.” A gift.
CT the DT has reached a milestone on her life’s path. I don’t think I realized how scared I was, too, until I heard the relief and joy in her voice when she called me. I
Nicholas Nackley, a colleague of mine from grad school, had a great feature in the Boston Globe last week. It’s always cool to read about my classmates’ successes. I haven’t seen Nick for a few years, but if you see him, asking him about the Barbara Bonney masterclass!
Nick’s profile was related to the premiere of Angels in America by Opera Unlimited in Boston, lead by Gil Rose and starring several colleagues: Tom Meglioranza (read about his experiences at Tomness), Amanda Forsythe, Anne Harley, and Drew Poling (as well as Nick.). It sounds like it was an incredible performance, and I’m so proud to know the people bringing this important work to life.
I’m off to the theater!
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Muscle memory
One more thought on Ainadamar: The opera opens with a fairly long overture, much of which is electronic. In this production, the cast walks onstage and into position in half light, the lights go down, and the overture starts. There is no movement until the singing starts four or five minutes later.
In the previous production, I had a big dance solo during the overture. The dance itself wasn’t hard, and Osvaldo loved it. It was through this dance that I first discovered “duende,” although I didn’t know it at the time. The trouble was, the electronics in the overture are rhythmic yet formless, lacking a definite beat (in a dancer’s sense, anyway). It starts with countinuous sounds – running water, galloping hoofbeats, echoing trumpets – overlapping and finally being taken over by the clack of an intense flamenco rhythm. After making my way on stage (wearing my giant figurative horsehead mask), I vamped a menacing crouch step while waiting for the first rimshot to break through the atmospherice sounds of the electronic tape. On that sound, I had to start my dance, which moved forward – again with no clear beats – like a runaway horse, if you will. (Ouch.) My heart, which was already pounding with adrenaline, jumped out of my chest every night, helping to propel me forward.
So imagine my body’s reaction when I heard the overture again. Standing still, in the dark, my heart leaped again at that all-too-familiar rimshot. I had to laugh! Even now, having heard the overture five or six times with the new staging, my body remembers the moves and wants to dance.
In the previous production, I had a big dance solo during the overture. The dance itself wasn’t hard, and Osvaldo loved it. It was through this dance that I first discovered “duende,” although I didn’t know it at the time. The trouble was, the electronics in the overture are rhythmic yet formless, lacking a definite beat (in a dancer’s sense, anyway). It starts with countinuous sounds – running water, galloping hoofbeats, echoing trumpets – overlapping and finally being taken over by the clack of an intense flamenco rhythm. After making my way on stage (wearing my giant figurative horsehead mask), I vamped a menacing crouch step while waiting for the first rimshot to break through the atmospherice sounds of the electronic tape. On that sound, I had to start my dance, which moved forward – again with no clear beats – like a runaway horse, if you will. (Ouch.) My heart, which was already pounding with adrenaline, jumped out of my chest every night, helping to propel me forward.
So imagine my body’s reaction when I heard the overture again. Standing still, in the dark, my heart leaped again at that all-too-familiar rimshot. I had to laugh! Even now, having heard the overture five or six times with the new staging, my body remembers the moves and wants to dance.
House Auditions
Last night after getting out of costume and makeup, I walked out through the back hallway on my way to the parking lot. I stopped to hug a few folks, and then I noticed that there was an abnormally large group backstage. (Usually, access is limited after a show, to assure the performers as much privacy as they’d like.) And this group was not your average crowd of opera fans. There were lots of good-looking, well-groomed men in suits, many of them milling around the stars of the evening, Kelley (Lorca) and Jessica (Nuria); Dawn hadn’t yet emerged from her dressing room. And these weren’t your average suits, either; think more hip, artsy New York suits over stiff, boardroom New York suits. Lots of color, great fabrics, and even better hair.
Who are they, you ask? This handsome group is the reason many young singers dream of coming to Santa Fe Opera. General Directors, Artistic Administrators and artist managers from companies across the country are in Santa Fe this week to check out the young talent. Today and tomorrow, each Apprentice Singer will have a five minute timeslot in which to sing one (extremely well-prepared) aria for this group. It’s an incredible opportunity to get your name, face, and voice in front of the people you hope will hire you someday. But it’s five minutes. One shot to make the best impression possible. No pressure, right?! Everyone has a bad day now and then; we’re all hoping that it’s not today or tomorrow!
I will be singing tomorrow, as will all the cast members of Ainadamar. It’s nice to have a day to ease the voice back into opera mode after singing in the quasi-flemenco, straight tone style of Osvaldo’s music. My voice, being naturally light and with a higher placement than a lot of the other women, makes the move fairly easily. But the darker lyric sopranos and the mezzos really feel the effects. The scheduling office was very understanding, and put all of us in tomorrow’s session.
It took me a while to pick my aria. Imagine looking for one aria that a) will present you in the best light, b) will show off your “specialty,” and c) will give the panel an idea of both what they could hire you for today and where your voice is going and growing. Not an easy task! Nina, who’s opinion I have come to value more and more, felt from the beginning that Nannetta’s aria from Verdi’s Falstaff was going to be the best bet for me. I was unsure, as I hadn’t worked on the piece since undergrad and felt that it still had a lot of “student” habits. I was leaning towards “Caro nome,” which I’m very comfortable with and feel that I can really “sell.” Also, “Caro” shows everything: legato lines, coloratura, high notes, and middle voice. Perfect, right? Well, maybe not.
LOTS of sopranos sing “Caro nome,” and many of them sing it very well. That doesn’t mean that I sing it any less well, but I might need to show another side of me in order to stand out from the pack. (No other soprano is singing “Caro nome” for these auditions; I’m just thinking of the bigger picture.) I was reminded of Nina’s fantastic advice to me: “You will never out-shout anyone (with high notes), you will never out-power anyone (with volume), but you can out-beauty them.” What does Nannetta’s aria show? Beautiful singing. And, after a month of coaching it with several outstanding people here, many (most) of the student habits are gone. If I can avoid being precious (holding on to my sound, rather than just letting the voice flow), I have a chance to really stand out. And this group is knowledgable enough to know that if I sing Nanetta beautifully, if my high A is floated easily, if I am truly comfortable on stage, then chances are I can sing other things as well (including Gilda). I don’t have to show all my cards to win the hand.
The only question left: What to wear?!
Who are they, you ask? This handsome group is the reason many young singers dream of coming to Santa Fe Opera. General Directors, Artistic Administrators and artist managers from companies across the country are in Santa Fe this week to check out the young talent. Today and tomorrow, each Apprentice Singer will have a five minute timeslot in which to sing one (extremely well-prepared) aria for this group. It’s an incredible opportunity to get your name, face, and voice in front of the people you hope will hire you someday. But it’s five minutes. One shot to make the best impression possible. No pressure, right?! Everyone has a bad day now and then; we’re all hoping that it’s not today or tomorrow!
I will be singing tomorrow, as will all the cast members of Ainadamar. It’s nice to have a day to ease the voice back into opera mode after singing in the quasi-flemenco, straight tone style of Osvaldo’s music. My voice, being naturally light and with a higher placement than a lot of the other women, makes the move fairly easily. But the darker lyric sopranos and the mezzos really feel the effects. The scheduling office was very understanding, and put all of us in tomorrow’s session.
It took me a while to pick my aria. Imagine looking for one aria that a) will present you in the best light, b) will show off your “specialty,” and c) will give the panel an idea of both what they could hire you for today and where your voice is going and growing. Not an easy task! Nina, who’s opinion I have come to value more and more, felt from the beginning that Nannetta’s aria from Verdi’s Falstaff was going to be the best bet for me. I was unsure, as I hadn’t worked on the piece since undergrad and felt that it still had a lot of “student” habits. I was leaning towards “Caro nome,” which I’m very comfortable with and feel that I can really “sell.” Also, “Caro” shows everything: legato lines, coloratura, high notes, and middle voice. Perfect, right? Well, maybe not.
LOTS of sopranos sing “Caro nome,” and many of them sing it very well. That doesn’t mean that I sing it any less well, but I might need to show another side of me in order to stand out from the pack. (No other soprano is singing “Caro nome” for these auditions; I’m just thinking of the bigger picture.) I was reminded of Nina’s fantastic advice to me: “You will never out-shout anyone (with high notes), you will never out-power anyone (with volume), but you can out-beauty them.” What does Nannetta’s aria show? Beautiful singing. And, after a month of coaching it with several outstanding people here, many (most) of the student habits are gone. If I can avoid being precious (holding on to my sound, rather than just letting the voice flow), I have a chance to really stand out. And this group is knowledgable enough to know that if I sing Nanetta beautifully, if my high A is floated easily, if I am truly comfortable on stage, then chances are I can sing other things as well (including Gilda). I don’t have to show all my cards to win the hand.
The only question left: What to wear?!
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Political
Tonight we have the second performance of Ainadamar, which opened strongly on Saturday. Charles at Ionarts gave his opinion (can’t really call it a ‘review,’ since he saw a rehearsal and not a performance), along with a collection of links to other reviews. The New York Times review focuses on Osvaldo’s music, while the LA Times writer gets into the socio-political aspects of the piece.
Two years ago, when someone asked me what Ainadamar was about, I would say that it was about Margarita Xirgu, the actress who helped bring Lorca and his plays to prominence, at the moment of her death. She looks back on her life with the young poet and mourns his grisly death.
Now, there is so much more there, and not just because of the musical reshaping the work has undergone. In Peter’s hands, it has become a piece about Fascism, fear, hope, freedom, and the creation and destruction of beauty. All the elements of the former piece are there; we are still witnessing the last three minutes of Margarita’s life. But they are fleshed out – musically and dramatically – to issue a wake-up call. Margarita, who fled Spain for Latin America on the crest of the fascist wave, regrets her choice (or, at least regrets not being able to convince Lorca to come with her). But more than that, she asks us if we will be willing to stand up to the extremists who threaten those with different religious beliefs, those who strive to open the minds of children, or those whose art or lifestyle challenges their idea of “normal.” (Ainadamar’s Bullfighter, Teacher, and Lorca). This line from the LA Times review says a lot: “It is an opera of unfinished business, on the passing on of the knowledge and experience of one generation to the next.” Thousands died along with Lorca that night in Spain; how many more have to die before we can stand up and say “no more”? May our generation be the one to succeed.
Ainadamar ends with a message of hope – there are students who are following the teachers who will “ask the questions.” We are still talking of Lorca and Margarita and their works and his ideas. I am reminded of a line from The Princess Bride, when Wesley tells Buttercup that “Death can not stop True Love; all it can do is delay it for a little while.” The same is true of oppression and Freedom. Freedom will win in the end, no matter how many generations it takes.
This isn’t a political blog, by any means. But my thoughts have been very political throughout this rehearsal process. How many people do you know who talked about moving to Canada or Europe when President Bush won a second term? I certainly did. (Fest contract, anyone?) But now, looking back at this not-too-distant era of fear and oppression, I am challenged to stay. To find the strength to stand up. To help put an end to the climate of fear that we are encouraged to live in. I know I’m just an opera singer, but I will do my part.
I know that I still haven’t written about the rehearsal process, and I’m not sure that I’ll be able to. You get some idea of what it’s been like through this post. The details – scraped knees, lots of tears, incredible bonding with my castmates, and the like – aren’t important. The change of heart is.
Two years ago, when someone asked me what Ainadamar was about, I would say that it was about Margarita Xirgu, the actress who helped bring Lorca and his plays to prominence, at the moment of her death. She looks back on her life with the young poet and mourns his grisly death.
Now, there is so much more there, and not just because of the musical reshaping the work has undergone. In Peter’s hands, it has become a piece about Fascism, fear, hope, freedom, and the creation and destruction of beauty. All the elements of the former piece are there; we are still witnessing the last three minutes of Margarita’s life. But they are fleshed out – musically and dramatically – to issue a wake-up call. Margarita, who fled Spain for Latin America on the crest of the fascist wave, regrets her choice (or, at least regrets not being able to convince Lorca to come with her). But more than that, she asks us if we will be willing to stand up to the extremists who threaten those with different religious beliefs, those who strive to open the minds of children, or those whose art or lifestyle challenges their idea of “normal.” (Ainadamar’s Bullfighter, Teacher, and Lorca). This line from the LA Times review says a lot: “It is an opera of unfinished business, on the passing on of the knowledge and experience of one generation to the next.” Thousands died along with Lorca that night in Spain; how many more have to die before we can stand up and say “no more”? May our generation be the one to succeed.
Ainadamar ends with a message of hope – there are students who are following the teachers who will “ask the questions.” We are still talking of Lorca and Margarita and their works and his ideas. I am reminded of a line from The Princess Bride, when Wesley tells Buttercup that “Death can not stop True Love; all it can do is delay it for a little while.” The same is true of oppression and Freedom. Freedom will win in the end, no matter how many generations it takes.
This isn’t a political blog, by any means. But my thoughts have been very political throughout this rehearsal process. How many people do you know who talked about moving to Canada or Europe when President Bush won a second term? I certainly did. (Fest contract, anyone?) But now, looking back at this not-too-distant era of fear and oppression, I am challenged to stay. To find the strength to stand up. To help put an end to the climate of fear that we are encouraged to live in. I know I’m just an opera singer, but I will do my part.
I know that I still haven’t written about the rehearsal process, and I’m not sure that I’ll be able to. You get some idea of what it’s been like through this post. The details – scraped knees, lots of tears, incredible bonding with my castmates, and the like – aren’t important. The change of heart is.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
This isn’t a post about Ainadamar
I haven’t written about Ainadamar rehearsals for many reasons, not the least of which is that when I have free time I’d rather sleep than blog. But it’s a new production of a new opera, so details should be kept, not necessarily secret, but at least under wraps. So, once we open on Saturday, I’ll write a bit about the production side of things. (Look, too, for opinions on the work from Charles at Ionarts, who was able to sit in on our piano dress rehearsal Monday night. I was so pleased to have the time to meet him for coffee and get to know another music blogger. We talked about (among other things) the changes coming to print journalism via blogging, and I think Ionarts will be a real force in the change for music journalism. A change for the better!)
Another reason I’ve been quiet about the rehearsal process is that I don’t quite have the words to describe what it’s like to work with Peter Sellars. I’m in a bit of a rush at the moment (2nd Grimes performance tonight), so I won’t even try right now. Someday, hopefully next week after things have quieted down a bit, I can sit and find the words. Just know that the entire cast agrees that this production will be a highlight of our careers.
I do want to share two concepts/philosophies/ideas that have been presented to me through Ainadamar. The first is a Buddhist idea Peter shared with us at a rehearsal in which we were particularly tired and feeling flat. He told us about “right livelihood,” the idea that your work (how you make your living) causes no harm, either to others or to yourself. The arts, he reminded us, are some of the few occupations which can be considered as such. Not only do we not destroy anything or cause harm, we create things! Beautiful things! And our work can heal rather than destroy. If you have ever felt rejuvenated or at peace after hearing a piece of music or reading a poem, you have been on the receiving end of the artist’s “right livelihood.” Peter reminded us that we are blessed to come to work everyday knowing that we aren’t subtracting from our karmic balance.
The other idea was first presented to me at Tanglewood in 2003, when we gave the first premiere of Ainadamar. Osvaldo talked about duende, an idea about which I only got the vaguest hint of its meaning. I knew it was good, that Lorca liked it, and that it was a fleeting thing that could either be present or not. After a dress rehearsal, Bob Spano, our conductor, said to me (regarding my dance solos in the piece), “You know why that was so good this time? You had duende,!” I said “thank you,” of course, but I was too shy to admit that I really had no idea what he was talking about.
So, when I saw the book "In Search of Duende,” – a selection of Lorca's prose writings and poetry on the subject – in the SFO gift shop, I picked it up, determined to really understand it this time. And I’m so glad I did. I read enough to find this quote from Lorca, which sums up his idea of “the duende:”
The duende is a momentary burst of inspiration, the blush of all that is truly alive, all that the performer is creating at a certain moment. The duende resembles what Goethe called the "demonical." It manifests itself principally among musicians and poets of the spoken word, rather than among painters and architects, for it needs the trembling of the moment and then a long silence. -FGL
An amazing idea, no? I realized a few days later, in the middle of another intense rehearsal to which my cast mates and I were all giving our all, that together in this production, we all find our duende. That is how we are so moved, and how we are able to so move others. Another quote from the book, this from the preface: In Andalusia, people say of certain toreros and flamenco artists that they have duende - an inexplicable power of attraction, the ability, on rare occasions, to send waves of emotion through those watching and listening to them.
How can we not want to have that power all the time?! To put aside our egos and let the duende flow through us. To bring healing and beauty to our audiences – to the world – every time we step onstage. It is my new goal, what I want to strive for in all of my work.
While this isn’t a post about Ainadamar, I think you can start to understand how I feel about the work we’ve done in the past few weeks. I can’t wait to tell you more.
Another reason I’ve been quiet about the rehearsal process is that I don’t quite have the words to describe what it’s like to work with Peter Sellars. I’m in a bit of a rush at the moment (2nd Grimes performance tonight), so I won’t even try right now. Someday, hopefully next week after things have quieted down a bit, I can sit and find the words. Just know that the entire cast agrees that this production will be a highlight of our careers.
I do want to share two concepts/philosophies/ideas that have been presented to me through Ainadamar. The first is a Buddhist idea Peter shared with us at a rehearsal in which we were particularly tired and feeling flat. He told us about “right livelihood,” the idea that your work (how you make your living) causes no harm, either to others or to yourself. The arts, he reminded us, are some of the few occupations which can be considered as such. Not only do we not destroy anything or cause harm, we create things! Beautiful things! And our work can heal rather than destroy. If you have ever felt rejuvenated or at peace after hearing a piece of music or reading a poem, you have been on the receiving end of the artist’s “right livelihood.” Peter reminded us that we are blessed to come to work everyday knowing that we aren’t subtracting from our karmic balance.
The other idea was first presented to me at Tanglewood in 2003, when we gave the first premiere of Ainadamar. Osvaldo talked about duende, an idea about which I only got the vaguest hint of its meaning. I knew it was good, that Lorca liked it, and that it was a fleeting thing that could either be present or not. After a dress rehearsal, Bob Spano, our conductor, said to me (regarding my dance solos in the piece), “You know why that was so good this time? You had duende,!” I said “thank you,” of course, but I was too shy to admit that I really had no idea what he was talking about.
So, when I saw the book "In Search of Duende,” – a selection of Lorca's prose writings and poetry on the subject – in the SFO gift shop, I picked it up, determined to really understand it this time. And I’m so glad I did. I read enough to find this quote from Lorca, which sums up his idea of “the duende:”
The duende is a momentary burst of inspiration, the blush of all that is truly alive, all that the performer is creating at a certain moment. The duende resembles what Goethe called the "demonical." It manifests itself principally among musicians and poets of the spoken word, rather than among painters and architects, for it needs the trembling of the moment and then a long silence. -FGL
An amazing idea, no? I realized a few days later, in the middle of another intense rehearsal to which my cast mates and I were all giving our all, that together in this production, we all find our duende. That is how we are so moved, and how we are able to so move others. Another quote from the book, this from the preface: In Andalusia, people say of certain toreros and flamenco artists that they have duende - an inexplicable power of attraction, the ability, on rare occasions, to send waves of emotion through those watching and listening to them.
How can we not want to have that power all the time?! To put aside our egos and let the duende flow through us. To bring healing and beauty to our audiences – to the world – every time we step onstage. It is my new goal, what I want to strive for in all of my work.
While this isn’t a post about Ainadamar, I think you can start to understand how I feel about the work we’ve done in the past few weeks. I can’t wait to tell you more.
Friday, July 22, 2005
visita número dos
My second Santa Fe visit is nearly over. This trip has been observably similar but has felt pretty different.
I am more or less on vacation with a handful of house husband duties... (the same)
I am in beautiful Santa Fe... (the same)
Anne Carolyn has rehearsals and coachings from 10am-5pm Monday through Saturday... (the same)
Anne Carolyn has dress rehearsals and performances from 7pm to 12:30am 3-4 nights a week (very different). There is some union thing where they aren't suppose to be called until noon the next day if they had a dress or performance the night before. But while I have been here that has been the exception rather than the rule.
When describing Tanglewood to people I would often say that it is "Summer Camp for young professional musicians." Compared to Tanglewood, or anything for that matter, the Santa Fe Opera Apprentice program is "Bootcamp for Opera Singers." Not just any bootcamp either, this is like Navy Seals bootcamp... If you were to create a bootcamp for the next generation of Opera's Elite Special Forces what would you do? Lets make it hot (check), dry (check), throw in some altitude.. (higher than the Denver Bronco's play by at least 1000 feet) and round if off with 12 hour days. (check) Sounds about right? And just so that they won't all crack up under pressure put the facility in an extremely picturesque setting with a top notch staff.
I was able to go just hang out and watch some rehearsals and I got to say it was an extremely relaxing experience. Sitting in the shade on the grass watching Peter Sellars run through Ainadamar was spellbinding. Even without sets or costumes or orchestra I can tell it is going to emotionally powerful. Juxtapose that with: at one point the conductor's little girl came down from the pool and offered him a drink of juice. Santa Fe is very family friendly.
One other thing I want to weigh in on is the weather. I was told July would be cooler than June because of the rains. That has not been my experience. It's still been up in the 80's and 90's but instead 16% humidity it has been getting into the 30-40% range and not cooling off as much at night. We did have a crazy storm the other night with hail coming down so fast it was hard to get the windows closed because they were getting jammed up. It has been beautiful though. Just one more face of Santa Fe.
I am more or less on vacation with a handful of house husband duties... (the same)
I am in beautiful Santa Fe... (the same)
Anne Carolyn has rehearsals and coachings from 10am-5pm Monday through Saturday... (the same)
Anne Carolyn has dress rehearsals and performances from 7pm to 12:30am 3-4 nights a week (very different). There is some union thing where they aren't suppose to be called until noon the next day if they had a dress or performance the night before. But while I have been here that has been the exception rather than the rule.
When describing Tanglewood to people I would often say that it is "Summer Camp for young professional musicians." Compared to Tanglewood, or anything for that matter, the Santa Fe Opera Apprentice program is "Bootcamp for Opera Singers." Not just any bootcamp either, this is like Navy Seals bootcamp... If you were to create a bootcamp for the next generation of Opera's Elite Special Forces what would you do? Lets make it hot (check), dry (check), throw in some altitude.. (higher than the Denver Bronco's play by at least 1000 feet) and round if off with 12 hour days. (check) Sounds about right? And just so that they won't all crack up under pressure put the facility in an extremely picturesque setting with a top notch staff.
I was able to go just hang out and watch some rehearsals and I got to say it was an extremely relaxing experience. Sitting in the shade on the grass watching Peter Sellars run through Ainadamar was spellbinding. Even without sets or costumes or orchestra I can tell it is going to emotionally powerful. Juxtapose that with: at one point the conductor's little girl came down from the pool and offered him a drink of juice. Santa Fe is very family friendly.
One other thing I want to weigh in on is the weather. I was told July would be cooler than June because of the rains. That has not been my experience. It's still been up in the 80's and 90's but instead 16% humidity it has been getting into the 30-40% range and not cooling off as much at night. We did have a crazy storm the other night with hail coming down so fast it was hard to get the windows closed because they were getting jammed up. It has been beautiful though. Just one more face of Santa Fe.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Working Hard
So the Highlights "bulletpoint" post didn’t get written, but I got my tome on voice lessons out of the way. Now on to all the other things going on in the past few days!
Turandot has had three performances, with a pretty good review and a not so good review in the regional papers. Reviews from international opera magazines will take a little longer to appear, so the jury is still out on the overall impression. I do know that the administration at the opera is pleased, the director feels that his first opera is a success, and all the performers felt that we finally hit our stride with Saturday’s performance (the third). Yes, you can argue that we should have been there for opening night, but what can you do when you’re trying to get five operas opened in five weeks?! At a party a couple of weeks ago, a patron told me that she enjoys coming to see each opera several times thoughout the summer, to watch the evolution of the production. So obviously it is understood, in some circles, that the operas with longer runs may take some time to fully develop. Regardless, I think it is a beautiful production with skillful singing all around and some touching dramatic moments. Kevin Langan as Timur is especially moving as he mourns the death of his faithful servant, Liu (exquisitely sung in July by Serena Farnocchia, who easily gets the largest ovation of the night).
What else… I had my first real experience with vocal fatigue last week. In the week before Turandot opened, I had several days with 6 hours of rehearsal plus a 4 hour dress rehearsal that evening (“evening” rehearsals here begin at 9pm and finish around 12:30am). We were then called back for more rehearsals at noon the next day, or sometimes earlier (if we are called back to work fewer than 12 hours after we were released the previous night, union rules stipulate that we get overtime pay). A week of this pattern left me (and many others) physically tired and vocally shot. I’d never before experienced pain in my throat that wasn’t caused by illness; it is a very unsettling feeling! I was able to “mark” in some rehearsals (sing more softly, or sing things down an octave), but the only thing that really made the pain go away was being quiet. Any spare hour I had was spent relaxing, drinking lots of water, and trying not to talk – quite a feat for a “social butterfly” like me! I’m feeling much better now, and was able to sing in full voice for Saturday’s Turandot.
Peter Grimes is progressing nicely. It is an even more involved opera for the chorus, but our director, Paul Curran, is well suited to the task. He has directed the opera once before and has a clear vision and efficient rehearsal style. I think we’ve all been impressed with how quickly things have come together, Paul included! He is quick to let us know when we’re doing well, but also isn’t afraid to let us hear it when we “fall short” of his expectations! Rehearsals have generally been fun, which doesn’t have to be the case in a complicated opera like this, and we’re all looking forward to adding the rest of the elements (set, orchestra, etc.). The principals are all very strong, and I think there is potential for a real hit. The only negative thing about this production of Peter Grimes? There are only five performances.
Finally, we got our assignments for the Apprentice Scene Programs last week, and I am very happy with mine. I’ve been assigned the sextet (actually, it almost all of Act II Scene ii) from Lucia di Lammermoor, a great opera by Donizetti with one of the greatest coloratura heroines in all opera. I’ve been thinking about this role for about three years, hoping that someday my voice would “grow up” enough that I could sing it. As I started to move into coloratura land this year, the hope grew, but I’ve been floundering so much recently with what I should be singing, that I started to doubt. Then I went through the vocal roller coaster of the first few weeks here. I almost felt like I was back to square one! Then they assigned me this wonderful scene. All of a sudden I had answers. Yes, I am on the right track. Yes, my voice is growing into what I thought it would be: a solid lyric coloratura with enough warmth to sing Susanna and enough silver to sing Baby Doe. Yes, I will sing Lucia!
Turandot has had three performances, with a pretty good review and a not so good review in the regional papers. Reviews from international opera magazines will take a little longer to appear, so the jury is still out on the overall impression. I do know that the administration at the opera is pleased, the director feels that his first opera is a success, and all the performers felt that we finally hit our stride with Saturday’s performance (the third). Yes, you can argue that we should have been there for opening night, but what can you do when you’re trying to get five operas opened in five weeks?! At a party a couple of weeks ago, a patron told me that she enjoys coming to see each opera several times thoughout the summer, to watch the evolution of the production. So obviously it is understood, in some circles, that the operas with longer runs may take some time to fully develop. Regardless, I think it is a beautiful production with skillful singing all around and some touching dramatic moments. Kevin Langan as Timur is especially moving as he mourns the death of his faithful servant, Liu (exquisitely sung in July by Serena Farnocchia, who easily gets the largest ovation of the night).
What else… I had my first real experience with vocal fatigue last week. In the week before Turandot opened, I had several days with 6 hours of rehearsal plus a 4 hour dress rehearsal that evening (“evening” rehearsals here begin at 9pm and finish around 12:30am). We were then called back for more rehearsals at noon the next day, or sometimes earlier (if we are called back to work fewer than 12 hours after we were released the previous night, union rules stipulate that we get overtime pay). A week of this pattern left me (and many others) physically tired and vocally shot. I’d never before experienced pain in my throat that wasn’t caused by illness; it is a very unsettling feeling! I was able to “mark” in some rehearsals (sing more softly, or sing things down an octave), but the only thing that really made the pain go away was being quiet. Any spare hour I had was spent relaxing, drinking lots of water, and trying not to talk – quite a feat for a “social butterfly” like me! I’m feeling much better now, and was able to sing in full voice for Saturday’s Turandot.
Peter Grimes is progressing nicely. It is an even more involved opera for the chorus, but our director, Paul Curran, is well suited to the task. He has directed the opera once before and has a clear vision and efficient rehearsal style. I think we’ve all been impressed with how quickly things have come together, Paul included! He is quick to let us know when we’re doing well, but also isn’t afraid to let us hear it when we “fall short” of his expectations! Rehearsals have generally been fun, which doesn’t have to be the case in a complicated opera like this, and we’re all looking forward to adding the rest of the elements (set, orchestra, etc.). The principals are all very strong, and I think there is potential for a real hit. The only negative thing about this production of Peter Grimes? There are only five performances.
Finally, we got our assignments for the Apprentice Scene Programs last week, and I am very happy with mine. I’ve been assigned the sextet (actually, it almost all of Act II Scene ii) from Lucia di Lammermoor, a great opera by Donizetti with one of the greatest coloratura heroines in all opera. I’ve been thinking about this role for about three years, hoping that someday my voice would “grow up” enough that I could sing it. As I started to move into coloratura land this year, the hope grew, but I’ve been floundering so much recently with what I should be singing, that I started to doubt. Then I went through the vocal roller coaster of the first few weeks here. I almost felt like I was back to square one! Then they assigned me this wonderful scene. All of a sudden I had answers. Yes, I am on the right track. Yes, my voice is growing into what I thought it would be: a solid lyric coloratura with enough warmth to sing Susanna and enough silver to sing Baby Doe. Yes, I will sing Lucia!
Friday, July 08, 2005
Highlights of Upcoming Highlights Post
I’m still here! We are at the point where there are two operas in prodcution (being performed once or twice a week) and three others in rehearsal, so free time is at a premium. I’ve only gotten one hour at the pool all week!
I have many, many things to share, though; I’m hoping to get a “highlights” entry written tonight. Topics to include: Peter Sellars, Dawn Upshaw, Ainadamar, voice lessons (finally!), the search for my real Fach, reviews of Turandot, Peter Grimes rehearsals, vocal fatigue, and Apprentice Scene assignments (just call me crazy…).
More soon, I promise!
I have many, many things to share, though; I’m hoping to get a “highlights” entry written tonight. Topics to include: Peter Sellars, Dawn Upshaw, Ainadamar, voice lessons (finally!), the search for my real Fach, reviews of Turandot, Peter Grimes rehearsals, vocal fatigue, and Apprentice Scene assignments (just call me crazy…).
More soon, I promise!
Sunday, June 19, 2005
First Two Weeks
A pictures tells a thousand words, right, so these six pictures should make up a bit for my lack of posting over the week. Right? It’s been a full week, with staging rehearsals for Turandot (we had our first ‘stumble-through’ yesterday, with a week to polish it up before tech rehearsals start); chorus rehearsals and cover coachings (1st Niece) for Peter Grimes, which I think starts staging on the 23rd; a rough voice lesson, followed the next day by an incredible lesson with a different teacher (more on that later); and my ‘re-audition,’ where I sang one aria in order to reacquaint the music staff with my voice so they can start thinking about assignments for scenes. I’m really hoping for a good bel canto duet or scene, maybe from Don Pasquale or Elixir of Love. A romantic scene with a tenor would be great, because we have so many tall tenors here!! It would be really fun to get to wear heels and still gaze UP into my partner’s eyes . . . I’ll let you know; we hope to get our assignments this week.
Also this week, I’ve have to get used to not having Erik here. He was here for ten days, and fell very quickly and naturally into his role as ‘house husband!’ He made me breakfast and coffee every morning, helped with dinner, and did all kinds of errands and chores while I was at work. It was great! A real glimpse into what we hope our future will look like at some point. But this week I was often running out the door a little late, forgetting breakfast or my snacks for the day.
Tomorrow we start music rehearsals for Ainadamar. I talked with the coach last night, and when he learned that I’d performed the opera before, he said I could chime in at any time during rehearsal to let him know if he was getting something wrong! Well, I’ve actually thought about this, and I’ve decided that I am not going to be that annoying singer: “That’s not right. When we did it at Tanglewood/in LA, we did is this way.” That can get old really fast!! So I told him that I am planning on keeping my mouth shut (except to sing), but that if he had questions, he could ask me anything. He seemed to agree that that was a better way of approaching things! Staging rehearsals start the week of July 4th for this opera. Another coach mentioned that my singing role, which was offstage in past productions, may not necessarily be offstage this time. That would be great, but we’ll wait and see. Regardless, I am looking forward to seeing what Peter Sellars has to bring to the table. And it will be so good to see Dawn and Osvaldo again.
Time to round up the dogs and head to bed. Another busy week starts at 10am!
Also this week, I’ve have to get used to not having Erik here. He was here for ten days, and fell very quickly and naturally into his role as ‘house husband!’ He made me breakfast and coffee every morning, helped with dinner, and did all kinds of errands and chores while I was at work. It was great! A real glimpse into what we hope our future will look like at some point. But this week I was often running out the door a little late, forgetting breakfast or my snacks for the day.
Tomorrow we start music rehearsals for Ainadamar. I talked with the coach last night, and when he learned that I’d performed the opera before, he said I could chime in at any time during rehearsal to let him know if he was getting something wrong! Well, I’ve actually thought about this, and I’ve decided that I am not going to be that annoying singer: “That’s not right. When we did it at Tanglewood/in LA, we did is this way.” That can get old really fast!! So I told him that I am planning on keeping my mouth shut (except to sing), but that if he had questions, he could ask me anything. He seemed to agree that that was a better way of approaching things! Staging rehearsals start the week of July 4th for this opera. Another coach mentioned that my singing role, which was offstage in past productions, may not necessarily be offstage this time. That would be great, but we’ll wait and see. Regardless, I am looking forward to seeing what Peter Sellars has to bring to the table. And it will be so good to see Dawn and Osvaldo again.
Time to round up the dogs and head to bed. Another busy week starts at 10am!
Monday, December 13, 2004
The News
Last Monday morning I got an email that started like this:
“Dear Ms. Bird,
I am pleased to advise you that you have been accepted for the 2005 Santa Fe Opera Apprentice Singer Program.”
Woohoo!! Needless to say, I was ecstatic – for about five minutes. Right away, all the little things (and some big things) that would have to be arranged started running through my mind, not the least of which was getting time off for my sister’s wedding. The other big one: will Erik come with me? The program is a full three months, and we don’t like to be apart for more than a month, max. Even three weeks is pushing it! So we have all sorts of scenarios running through our minds.
But first, the wedding drama! The original wedding day was July 22nd. I looked on the Santa Fe website for the performance schedule, and the opera being performed that night is one I knew I wouldn’t be in. So I thought, no problem! I can leave late on the 21st and be back early on the 23rd, no problem. Well, late on the 21st there is the Dress Rehearsal for Peter Grimes, an opera in which I have a cover (opera-speak for understudy); on the 22nd there is an orchestra rehearsal for for Ainadamar, an opera in which I have a small part; early on the 23rd is a staging rehearsal for Ainadamar, and opening night of Peter Grimes is on the 23rd as well. Did you get all that?! So, while the director was extremely understanding, it was near to impossible for me to get out that weekend.
Add to all this the fact that my sister-in-law is pregnant and due – you guessed it – on July 22nd! All of a sudden, the stars were misaligned for the wedding to take place on that date. My saint of a mother came to the rescue, though, and found a new date which works for all the wedding vendors. She cleared this new idea with the groom, and THEN told my sister about the new plans! See, Sally didn’t know about any of these snags until they had all been resolved. She was in the middle of hell week at school, and my mom knew that it would put her over the edge!
Sally, to her credit, is excited about the new date (heck, she’s getting married six weeks earlier!) and so happy about all the good things that precipated the change. She and her fiancee will be here on Friday; I can’t wait to have a good laugh about it all over a Christmas cocktail.
Details of my Summer 2005 will be forthcoming…
“Dear Ms. Bird,
I am pleased to advise you that you have been accepted for the 2005 Santa Fe Opera Apprentice Singer Program.”
Woohoo!! Needless to say, I was ecstatic – for about five minutes. Right away, all the little things (and some big things) that would have to be arranged started running through my mind, not the least of which was getting time off for my sister’s wedding. The other big one: will Erik come with me? The program is a full three months, and we don’t like to be apart for more than a month, max. Even three weeks is pushing it! So we have all sorts of scenarios running through our minds.
But first, the wedding drama! The original wedding day was July 22nd. I looked on the Santa Fe website for the performance schedule, and the opera being performed that night is one I knew I wouldn’t be in. So I thought, no problem! I can leave late on the 21st and be back early on the 23rd, no problem. Well, late on the 21st there is the Dress Rehearsal for Peter Grimes, an opera in which I have a cover (opera-speak for understudy); on the 22nd there is an orchestra rehearsal for for Ainadamar, an opera in which I have a small part; early on the 23rd is a staging rehearsal for Ainadamar, and opening night of Peter Grimes is on the 23rd as well. Did you get all that?! So, while the director was extremely understanding, it was near to impossible for me to get out that weekend.
Add to all this the fact that my sister-in-law is pregnant and due – you guessed it – on July 22nd! All of a sudden, the stars were misaligned for the wedding to take place on that date. My saint of a mother came to the rescue, though, and found a new date which works for all the wedding vendors. She cleared this new idea with the groom, and THEN told my sister about the new plans! See, Sally didn’t know about any of these snags until they had all been resolved. She was in the middle of hell week at school, and my mom knew that it would put her over the edge!
Sally, to her credit, is excited about the new date (heck, she’s getting married six weeks earlier!) and so happy about all the good things that precipated the change. She and her fiancee will be here on Friday; I can’t wait to have a good laugh about it all over a Christmas cocktail.
Details of my Summer 2005 will be forthcoming…
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