Recently I saw a performance in which a singer teetered dangerously on the line between telling an emotional story and telling a personal story. It reminded me of my own experience with this difficult aspect of honest performing, during the first Sun Valley Opera Competition in 2003. I wrote up this story two years ago, to share with some friends, and knew that the time would come to share it on the blog. It seems that time is now, so, take a trip down memory lane with me...
The competition is held in a church in Seattle’s Madrona neighborhood, so for the “green room,” or holding area, we used the fellowship hall. The competition monitor came back to get us one at a time, and lead us through the maze of classrooms and nursery rooms in the church basement, up to the sanctuary where the actual competition took place. Imagine my surprise when, shortly before my turn to go, a beautiful tabby cat entered the room! Her name was KittyBob, I would later learn (yes, KittyBob is a girl…), but at the time all I knew was that I wanted to pet her and love on her. But the monitor soon appeared and called my name, so I said, “I have to go, but I’ll be back soon, kitty, and we can get to know each other.”
(Yes, I’m a dork when it comes to cats. We’ll just leave that be…)
I made my way to the altar area, which is raised up a bit from the rest of the sanctuary, making a nice stage area. The three sides of the space had choir loft benches against them, with a railing and kneeling bench for communion. I started singing Norina’s aria from Don Pasquale, getting through the opening cavatina and had moved into the sassy cabaletta when I heard people in the audience start to chuckle. I thought, “Wow, I’m really selling this! They think I’m funny!”
Well, it turns out the KittyBob was not content to wait for my return. She had appeared behind me, rubbing up against the kneelers and lying on her belly and generally looking adorable. When she worked her way into my sightlines at the front of the stage, I quickly realized that the audience was not laughing at me! I know that you can’t fight with animals or children on stage; people will always watch them to see what unexpected thing they’re going to do next. So I went with it: Norina had a cat! I sang to KittyBob for as long as she stuck around, then turned my attention back to the audience for the finish. When it was over, we – the audience and I – shared a good laugh, and I made my way back to the green room to await the second round.
My piece for the second round, the musical theatre round, was “The Sound of Music.” Yes, “The hills are alive” and all that. One of the judges told me later that when he saw my listing in the program, he thought, “She is really going to have to sell this to win with this song.” I had just come home from my first summer at Tanglewood, a place where the hills were indeed alive with the sounds of music. It was an amazing summer, and I was missing it, having a hard time adjusting to life “back home.” So I really let myself get lost in the words and the sentiment. When I got to the line “…like a lark who is learning to pray,” I brought my hands into a prayer position at my heart without thinking; it was a motion I had never done before, and it hit me.
“I go to the hills, when my heart is lonely. I know I will hear what I’ve heard before.”
I wanted to be back in the Berkshire hills. My heart was lonely, and I was missing the refuge of the musical community there.
“My heart will be blessed, with the sound of music…”
And my throat closed.
I had crossed that line that a performer needs to flirt with in performance in order to affect the audience, the line between control and indulgence, between telling a story and living the story. It is a line we should flirt with but never cross. A friend later told me that he had been just about to cry himself, because I was conveying the beauty of the song so well, but as soon as I cried, he became worried about me as a person, rather than emoting with me as the character.
The competition pianist, whom I had never met before that day and whose name I cannot remember, was completely with me. She slowed down and stopped just as I did, waited while I recovered my voice – surely a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours – then breathed with me and we finished the song, my voice shaking with held tears.
“…and I’ll sing once more.”
I didn’t even want to take a bow. I was mortified; I felt that I had let the audience down. They didn’t need to know that Anne-Carolyn Bird, the soprano, was having a rough night; they only needed to feel Maria’s joy at being in her mountains, surrounded by music. Another soprano in the competition reassured me, though, by telling me that every time she performed the role, she had to fight against the urge to cry at that point. It is a simple song, one that has become “cheesy” with overuse, but it is powerful in its simplicity. There is a reason it is a classic.
These events, I knew, made it so that I would remember this night and its lessons forever. I was almost embarrassed to be announced the winner.
Showing posts with label Tanglewood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tanglewood. Show all posts
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Monday, August 16, 2004
Last concert
OK, the summer is coming to a close! I had my final concert last night, and this last week will consist of attending other concerts, singing in a few masterclasses, and getting started on next season's rep. I'm conisdering it a "working vacation," because there will also hopefully be a fair amount of sleeping in and lying out on the beach at the lake. Not to mention a cocktail or two...
Last night was the penultimate concert in the week-long Festival of Contemporary Music, an annual Tanglewood event celebrating concert music written by composers who can actually attend the performances. For example, on the program last night was a piece by a friend of mine who was a composition Fellow last summer. Every year TMC issues a commision to one of the comp Fellows for a piece to be performed the following year. (Since the early days of Tanglewood, "new music" has been important here. Leornard Berstein? Tanglewood Fellow...) My piece last night was an incredible work for soprano and chamber orchestra. The work is very long, about half an hour, with 15 movments, so it was divided among five of us. Lucy Shelton is a faculty member here and one of the best contemporary music sopranos in the world; she sang five of the movements, the rest of us had two or three. I was lucky to be assigned three very hard, very showy movements, so I feel like I really got to shine. Of course, I really like this kind of music, and would have enjoyed singing any of it. In fact, I would love to try and sing the whole piece some day.
The conductor of the piece was Gil Rose, with whom I worked while I was in Boston. He directs the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, and they needed a few extra singers for a contemporary opera they were staging while I was in school. (We actually came to Tanglewood in 2002 and did a performance as part of the Festival, so my first Twd performance was in a professional capacity.) It was good to work with him again, since I know I have improved as a musician since we worked together last. We've had dinner a couple of times this week, and he has really exciting seasons coming up wth his organizations (he also leads Opera Boston). I hope to get another chance to work with him soon.
He had a friend with his this weekend, a New York based composer named Lisa Something (starts with a B...). She talked with me last night about a piece she wrote this year for soprano and orchestra that is having its premiere at Carnegie Hall this fall. While that performance already has its ensemble lined up, she would like to look at the piece and think about performing it again in the future. That's two pieces in the past ten days that have come my way after new music concerts. Maybe there's something to that...
Last night was the penultimate concert in the week-long Festival of Contemporary Music, an annual Tanglewood event celebrating concert music written by composers who can actually attend the performances. For example, on the program last night was a piece by a friend of mine who was a composition Fellow last summer. Every year TMC issues a commision to one of the comp Fellows for a piece to be performed the following year. (Since the early days of Tanglewood, "new music" has been important here. Leornard Berstein? Tanglewood Fellow...) My piece last night was an incredible work for soprano and chamber orchestra. The work is very long, about half an hour, with 15 movments, so it was divided among five of us. Lucy Shelton is a faculty member here and one of the best contemporary music sopranos in the world; she sang five of the movements, the rest of us had two or three. I was lucky to be assigned three very hard, very showy movements, so I feel like I really got to shine. Of course, I really like this kind of music, and would have enjoyed singing any of it. In fact, I would love to try and sing the whole piece some day.
The conductor of the piece was Gil Rose, with whom I worked while I was in Boston. He directs the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, and they needed a few extra singers for a contemporary opera they were staging while I was in school. (We actually came to Tanglewood in 2002 and did a performance as part of the Festival, so my first Twd performance was in a professional capacity.) It was good to work with him again, since I know I have improved as a musician since we worked together last. We've had dinner a couple of times this week, and he has really exciting seasons coming up wth his organizations (he also leads Opera Boston). I hope to get another chance to work with him soon.
He had a friend with his this weekend, a New York based composer named Lisa Something (starts with a B...). She talked with me last night about a piece she wrote this year for soprano and orchestra that is having its premiere at Carnegie Hall this fall. While that performance already has its ensemble lined up, she would like to look at the piece and think about performing it again in the future. That's two pieces in the past ten days that have come my way after new music concerts. Maybe there's something to that...
Friday, August 06, 2004
Costume / Jewelry
Whenever a show gets to tech week, I start leaving my engagement ring at home. I've known too many stories of people losing diamond rings to take a chance with mine. I keep my wedding band on, though, only taking it off when I'm in full costume. Every day, I put the ring in the little "personal effects" basket at my dressing station, along with my earrings and other miscellany. Then, at the end of the rehearsal, I gather it all up again.
Well, for some reason I changed my routine during Saturday's matinee. I knew I would be in a hurry to get out of there, so I started cleaning things up during one of my longer off-stage periods. Needless to say, when I finished the show and came back to change, I had forgotten all this (change in routine is BAD!), and panicked when I couldn't find my ring. I, wrongly, assumed that the costume assistant had dropped it when she cleaned out my effects basket (which, granted, she shouldn't have done until I had gotten all my things out of it, but, still, it wasn't her fault), and so she and several other people tore the place apart while I got out of my costume and tearfully went to find Erik. It wasn't until after the reception, and many tears, that I could calm my mind enough to mentally retrace my steps. I realized that it had been in my wallet the whole time.
I have never felt such a mix of relief, joy, and embarrassment! I felt so awful to assuming the costumer had lost it; actually, I felt like a Diva. Not a good kind, either. (Yes, Virginia, there are good divas. More on that later.) I instantly started planning my apology!
I would have a chance to see them again the next day, when I was invited back to come "make an offer" for my costume. Remember, this is a several thousand dollar dress, not to mention the ostrich feather cape. But I was encouraged by the staff to "just stop by and let them know you're interested in having it." Ok, right.
Erik and I headed out Sunday morning to find a box of nice chocolates for my peace offering, then worked our way to the theatre past Sunday Tanglewood traffic. We found the costumers who had done all the searching, and they were only glad that I found the ring. I didn't feel that they were upset with me, so I must not have thrown too big a Diva fit.
Then on to the costume shop. Where I was presented with an incredible gift. They gave me my costume "for a song," shall we say. I was amazed. The gift of this production, this experience, was already so much more that I expected. And now I have an unbelievable momento, a physical reminder of all that I have learned here. It is a dress for a diva, for an opera singer, for me.
Well, for some reason I changed my routine during Saturday's matinee. I knew I would be in a hurry to get out of there, so I started cleaning things up during one of my longer off-stage periods. Needless to say, when I finished the show and came back to change, I had forgotten all this (change in routine is BAD!), and panicked when I couldn't find my ring. I, wrongly, assumed that the costume assistant had dropped it when she cleaned out my effects basket (which, granted, she shouldn't have done until I had gotten all my things out of it, but, still, it wasn't her fault), and so she and several other people tore the place apart while I got out of my costume and tearfully went to find Erik. It wasn't until after the reception, and many tears, that I could calm my mind enough to mentally retrace my steps. I realized that it had been in my wallet the whole time.
I have never felt such a mix of relief, joy, and embarrassment! I felt so awful to assuming the costumer had lost it; actually, I felt like a Diva. Not a good kind, either. (Yes, Virginia, there are good divas. More on that later.) I instantly started planning my apology!
I would have a chance to see them again the next day, when I was invited back to come "make an offer" for my costume. Remember, this is a several thousand dollar dress, not to mention the ostrich feather cape. But I was encouraged by the staff to "just stop by and let them know you're interested in having it." Ok, right.
Erik and I headed out Sunday morning to find a box of nice chocolates for my peace offering, then worked our way to the theatre past Sunday Tanglewood traffic. We found the costumers who had done all the searching, and they were only glad that I found the ring. I didn't feel that they were upset with me, so I must not have thrown too big a Diva fit.
Then on to the costume shop. Where I was presented with an incredible gift. They gave me my costume "for a song," shall we say. I was amazed. The gift of this production, this experience, was already so much more that I expected. And now I have an unbelievable momento, a physical reminder of all that I have learned here. It is a dress for a diva, for an opera singer, for me.
Five Days
Saturday: Brunch at a classic diner with the Taylors, Birds, and Erik. Blueberry pancakes for me, "plain pancake" for Sylvia. Headed off to the theatre while everyone else relaxed or played with their uncle. Mark and Elizabeth shared one ticket to the opera, Mark taking the first Act while Elizabeth and Sylvia wandered through the Tanglewood grounds. (At the first intermission, Elizabeth brought Sylvia backstage to see Aunt Bou in all her finery! There's a great picture in the album that shows her uncertainty! Who is this white woman?) After the show, dinner at my favorite Chinese restaurant, the traditional ice cream after a performance, and the end of a long day.
Sunday: The Taylors had other friends in town, so they did their thing while we walked through downtown Pittsfield looking at the sheep. (Pictures in the Misc. Album.) I had a coaching in the afternoon (Erik was able to attend, to see what goes on behind the scenes.), and then, to be honest, I can not remember what we did Sunday evening.
Monday: A hike up Monument "Mountain" with the Taylors, and a tasty lunch at the top. Then they got to go swimming while I went to a practice room. No rest for the weary! I attended my Russian diction class, then joined back up with my gang for dinner and an evening of Texas Hold'em! Really, it was so nice to get to do this kind of "real life" stuff here; reminded me that my life is more than rehearsals and performances.
Tuesday: Erik's last full day. I had a rehearsal in the morning; he got to sleep in. We spent a lazy afternoon "at home," something we love doing at our real home but have been sorely missing this summer. I had a vocal recital in the evening (all the vocal fellows sang, one folk song - arranged by a classical composer - each), then we had a lovely dinner with my sponsors, Pearl and Alvin Schottenfeld. Finally, a concert under the stars! It did sprinkle on us a bit, but we cuddled a blanket. The bottle of wine was well on it's way to being vinegar, so that was a bust, but the music was wonderful. The canons in the 1812 Overture were certainly loud and exciting, and the fireworks were fantastic. (Erik says they were as good as the one's on Lake Union; I say they were better.) Not to be out done, Mother Nature joined in with some incredible lightning. It was quite a site, to see flashes of color and white sharing the sky.
Wednesday: An official Tanglewood Day Off. (There are two all summer.) Erik's flight was at 5, so we packed up, cleaned up, and headed out around 2. And that's the end of my "real life at Tanglewood" week! Only two more weeks until it's "real life all the time." Until the next big thing...
Sunday: The Taylors had other friends in town, so they did their thing while we walked through downtown Pittsfield looking at the sheep. (Pictures in the Misc. Album.) I had a coaching in the afternoon (Erik was able to attend, to see what goes on behind the scenes.), and then, to be honest, I can not remember what we did Sunday evening.
Monday: A hike up Monument "Mountain" with the Taylors, and a tasty lunch at the top. Then they got to go swimming while I went to a practice room. No rest for the weary! I attended my Russian diction class, then joined back up with my gang for dinner and an evening of Texas Hold'em! Really, it was so nice to get to do this kind of "real life" stuff here; reminded me that my life is more than rehearsals and performances.
Tuesday: Erik's last full day. I had a rehearsal in the morning; he got to sleep in. We spent a lazy afternoon "at home," something we love doing at our real home but have been sorely missing this summer. I had a vocal recital in the evening (all the vocal fellows sang, one folk song - arranged by a classical composer - each), then we had a lovely dinner with my sponsors, Pearl and Alvin Schottenfeld. Finally, a concert under the stars! It did sprinkle on us a bit, but we cuddled a blanket. The bottle of wine was well on it's way to being vinegar, so that was a bust, but the music was wonderful. The canons in the 1812 Overture were certainly loud and exciting, and the fireworks were fantastic. (Erik says they were as good as the one's on Lake Union; I say they were better.) Not to be out done, Mother Nature joined in with some incredible lightning. It was quite a site, to see flashes of color and white sharing the sky.
Wednesday: An official Tanglewood Day Off. (There are two all summer.) Erik's flight was at 5, so we packed up, cleaned up, and headed out around 2. And that's the end of my "real life at Tanglewood" week! Only two more weeks until it's "real life all the time." Until the next big thing...
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Reviews
More reviews are starting to trickle in, with the general consensus being that people loved the musical elements and performances, but weren't sure about the production. The NYTimes writer seemed to like the whole package, though, as you can read here. It is a general review of the entire weekend at Tanglewood - Seiji Ozawa's Gala Sunday night, the opera, and the two BSO concerts - but there is also another beautiful picture. When the summer is over, I will most certainly be rewriting my bio to include some of these quotes!
I will be bringing home a recording of the opera, and will send copies to anyone who would like one. But if you can't wait until then, New York's WQXR will be broadcasting the recording this Saturday at 1pm EST. They have a live stream from their website, so those of you with modern machines should be able to listen with no problem.
This evening I'm singing on a vocal recital for Tanglewood on Parade; all the singers are scheduled to sing one song each, folk songs of the US and Great Britain. It will a great concert to have a recording of, since all my fellow Fellows will be represented. A good momento, not to mention a resource for neat folk song arrangements! Erik will be in attendance, and afterwards we are having dinner with my sponsors, Pearl and Alvin Schottenfeld. If the weather holds, Erik and I will then head back to the Tanglewood grounds for the 8:30 BSO/TMC joint concert, which ends with the 1812 Overture and fireworks. One of my favorite things about Tanglewood (and I am not alone in this) is sitting on a blanket with a bottle (or two!) of wine, under the stars, listening to one of the best orchestras in the world. I want Erik to have that experience, too, but Mother Nature my have a concert of her own to give tonight. I'll let you know...
I will be bringing home a recording of the opera, and will send copies to anyone who would like one. But if you can't wait until then, New York's WQXR will be broadcasting the recording this Saturday at 1pm EST. They have a live stream from their website, so those of you with modern machines should be able to listen with no problem.
This evening I'm singing on a vocal recital for Tanglewood on Parade; all the singers are scheduled to sing one song each, folk songs of the US and Great Britain. It will a great concert to have a recording of, since all my fellow Fellows will be represented. A good momento, not to mention a resource for neat folk song arrangements! Erik will be in attendance, and afterwards we are having dinner with my sponsors, Pearl and Alvin Schottenfeld. If the weather holds, Erik and I will then head back to the Tanglewood grounds for the 8:30 BSO/TMC joint concert, which ends with the 1812 Overture and fireworks. One of my favorite things about Tanglewood (and I am not alone in this) is sitting on a blanket with a bottle (or two!) of wine, under the stars, listening to one of the best orchestras in the world. I want Erik to have that experience, too, but Mother Nature my have a concert of her own to give tonight. I'll let you know...
Sunday, August 01, 2004
What a dream was here
Thanks to Erik's arrival on Friday (yea!!!), I have a new internet setup. Unfortunately, it involves going to the cafe up the street and paying $2 to use their wireless, but it's better than nothing. For some reason, the IR port on my phone has stopped working, so I can't use it as a modem. Regardless, the lack of internet was only one factor in my week of no posting - I had an opera to perform!
Thursday was opening night, and I feel like I achieved everything I was hoping for in terms of putting the music first. I felt totally connected to Stefan, the conductor, the whole night, enjoying the partnership of conductor and singer. I don't know why, but in my mind I think I had always viewed the conductor - and reliance on the conductor - as a crutch. You only looked at him if you got lost! But that's not it at all. It is one of those contradictions: the more you are with him, the more free you can be. If he sees that you want to take time or move forward (for expressive purposes, hopefully, not because you can't count), he can make the orchestra respond. If he doesn't get those signals from you, you will be fighting against a speeding train! Not an environment conducive to artistic expression. When I talked with Stefan about this realization after the show, he was amazed that I was only just figuring it out. But, hey, life is one long learning process, right?
In addition to that small epiphany, the rest of the night went fabulously. The audience loved it, and the first review is quite good. (Warning: there are lots of pop-ups at the Berkshire Eagle site.) The paper edition has a photo of me and Charley Temkey, although he's wearing the donkey head, so you can't recognize him. Come to think of it, you probably can't recognize me either. Ooh, I found the photo at another review site. The review is pretty amateur, but you can see my costume! I have a ton of photos to post in my abum; I'll get to that soon. After the opera, we all celebrated with drinks and a 2am showing of Waiting for Guffman! I figured, if Erik was going to be up all night on a red-eye flight from Seattle, I would stay up late in solidarity. Which bring me to...
Erik's arrival! I picked him up Friday morning in Albany, and it has been so good to have him here. We had most of Friday to ourselves, then we spent the evening with Calin and Ian (who came in for the opera and some visits with friends) while waiting for the New York Birds to arrive. They were on their first road trip in their "new" Mercedes, and I think it turned into a bit of a National Lampoon's Road Trip. A three hour drive took nine hours, complete with weekend rush hour traffic, rain, stops for dinner and potty training, and strange behavior by the old car. They pulled in around midnight, at which time Sylvia anounced that she didnt' want to go to sleep! There were three kitties to play with! But, of course, she did, and so did we.
I have two more days worth of adventure to tell about, but I am sleepy. The main idea for now is that the opera went very well, everyone arrived safe and sound and is having a great time, and I am overall a very happy woman. Wish you could be here, too.
Thursday was opening night, and I feel like I achieved everything I was hoping for in terms of putting the music first. I felt totally connected to Stefan, the conductor, the whole night, enjoying the partnership of conductor and singer. I don't know why, but in my mind I think I had always viewed the conductor - and reliance on the conductor - as a crutch. You only looked at him if you got lost! But that's not it at all. It is one of those contradictions: the more you are with him, the more free you can be. If he sees that you want to take time or move forward (for expressive purposes, hopefully, not because you can't count), he can make the orchestra respond. If he doesn't get those signals from you, you will be fighting against a speeding train! Not an environment conducive to artistic expression. When I talked with Stefan about this realization after the show, he was amazed that I was only just figuring it out. But, hey, life is one long learning process, right?
In addition to that small epiphany, the rest of the night went fabulously. The audience loved it, and the first review is quite good. (Warning: there are lots of pop-ups at the Berkshire Eagle site.) The paper edition has a photo of me and Charley Temkey, although he's wearing the donkey head, so you can't recognize him. Come to think of it, you probably can't recognize me either. Ooh, I found the photo at another review site. The review is pretty amateur, but you can see my costume! I have a ton of photos to post in my abum; I'll get to that soon. After the opera, we all celebrated with drinks and a 2am showing of Waiting for Guffman! I figured, if Erik was going to be up all night on a red-eye flight from Seattle, I would stay up late in solidarity. Which bring me to...
Erik's arrival! I picked him up Friday morning in Albany, and it has been so good to have him here. We had most of Friday to ourselves, then we spent the evening with Calin and Ian (who came in for the opera and some visits with friends) while waiting for the New York Birds to arrive. They were on their first road trip in their "new" Mercedes, and I think it turned into a bit of a National Lampoon's Road Trip. A three hour drive took nine hours, complete with weekend rush hour traffic, rain, stops for dinner and potty training, and strange behavior by the old car. They pulled in around midnight, at which time Sylvia anounced that she didnt' want to go to sleep! There were three kitties to play with! But, of course, she did, and so did we.
I have two more days worth of adventure to tell about, but I am sleepy. The main idea for now is that the opera went very well, everyone arrived safe and sound and is having a great time, and I am overall a very happy woman. Wish you could be here, too.
Friday, July 30, 2004
A singer who dances
In last year's opera, you may recall, I was dancing more than singing. This year, too, while my singing part is substanial, I am dancing quite a bit. The concept behind my costume (and together with Oberon) was Fred & Ginger. When they learned that Jose (Oberon) and I could both dance, they blocked a lot of beautiful ballroom style dancing. I'm having a ball (ha ha), but my coach said something to me yesterday that has stuck in my mind.
"I want you to be a singer who dances, not a dancer who sings."
She has known me for three years now, and she can tell when I go on autopilot with my singing. As this is essentially my first full opera role, I am having trouble concentrating on the singing part. The acting and dancing (the roles in which I have spent most of my stage time) seem to occupy more of my attention on stage, and, to her eyes, it shows. So my new focus for the week is how to let the music - the heart of opera - tell the story. To trust the composer, trust the orchestra, trust my voice alone to move the audience. I have enough training in acting and dance that I will never leave those skills offstage, but singing needs to be first.
I was drawn to opera precisely because it is a synthesis of all the arts - dance, music, drama, visual art, poetry. But I am not an actor, poet, or dancer. I am an opera singer.
"I want you to be a singer who dances, not a dancer who sings."
She has known me for three years now, and she can tell when I go on autopilot with my singing. As this is essentially my first full opera role, I am having trouble concentrating on the singing part. The acting and dancing (the roles in which I have spent most of my stage time) seem to occupy more of my attention on stage, and, to her eyes, it shows. So my new focus for the week is how to let the music - the heart of opera - tell the story. To trust the composer, trust the orchestra, trust my voice alone to move the audience. I have enough training in acting and dance that I will never leave those skills offstage, but singing needs to be first.
I was drawn to opera precisely because it is a synthesis of all the arts - dance, music, drama, visual art, poetry. But I am not an actor, poet, or dancer. I am an opera singer.
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Sitzprobe
The opera is staged! From this point out, we're in tech week, which in opera also includes adding the element of the orchestra. So today we have what is called a Sitzprobe, a fancy German word for sitting down and singing through the opera with the orchestra. We will be in chairs on the stage, so we can hear what the orchestra will sound like from that perspective, but we won't be doing any blocking or dancing. (Hmm, have I mentioned the dancing that I'm doing this year? I'll get to that...)
All in all, the opera is in wonderful shape. A few things to get ironed out still (like the pie fight!), but on the whole it is a beautiful show. Mark and Elizabeth decided this week that they will be able to come up that weekend, so I'm off this morning to get one more ticket. Only one, since they will have Sylvia, but I think they're going to take turns - one sits inside for one act, the other hangs out on the grounds with Sylvia, then they switch at intermission. The Taylors and Erik will, of course, be here, too; he'll stay through Wednesday of the next week. That means he'll get to sit in on a rehearsal of my end of the summer projects (one coached by Dawn) and see a concert that will involve all the Vocal Fellows (folk songs of Great Britain and the US). We might even have some time to go swimming or take a bike ride through this beautiful country. Regardless, I'll be glad to have him - and everybody else! - here. This "9-5 plus overtime" lifestyle is hard without my support staff, especially my Vice President. That's a hard job to telecommute; face time is essential...
All in all, the opera is in wonderful shape. A few things to get ironed out still (like the pie fight!), but on the whole it is a beautiful show. Mark and Elizabeth decided this week that they will be able to come up that weekend, so I'm off this morning to get one more ticket. Only one, since they will have Sylvia, but I think they're going to take turns - one sits inside for one act, the other hangs out on the grounds with Sylvia, then they switch at intermission. The Taylors and Erik will, of course, be here, too; he'll stay through Wednesday of the next week. That means he'll get to sit in on a rehearsal of my end of the summer projects (one coached by Dawn) and see a concert that will involve all the Vocal Fellows (folk songs of Great Britain and the US). We might even have some time to go swimming or take a bike ride through this beautiful country. Regardless, I'll be glad to have him - and everybody else! - here. This "9-5 plus overtime" lifestyle is hard without my support staff, especially my Vice President. That's a hard job to telecommute; face time is essential...
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Bryn Terfel
Last Tuesday, Welsh baritone Bryn Terfel gave a recital in Ozawa Hall with Malcolm Martineau on piano. Bryn (yes, we're on first name basis) is a big star, so the house was sold out. Seats had been set up on the stage, in a half circle behind the piano. (Fellows are usually seated in empty seats for concerts here; the house managers planned ahead, though, since they knew there would be no empty seats.) At first I was disappointed; who wants to sit behind a superstar while they sing? Well, it was a lesson in great performing. Bryn and Malcom were aware of the audience being all around them, and reacted accordingly. At several points, Bryn turned his back to the front of the house, placed his hand on the semi-closed lid of the piano, and sang right to us. It was almost like an old fashioned "salon" style performance. Intimate, personal, inspiring.
Another advantage of being so close to him, even though we were behind (it was actually more like a 3/4 view), was that we could really see how he sings. How he uses his breath, his body, his face, to communicate the texts and music. We heard every word of his almost entirely English-language program. Phylis, our voice teacher here, would have been proud!
Then last night he gave the opposite of an intimate voice and piano recital - a performance of excerpts from Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürmberg with the BSO at the Shed for an audience of 20,000 people. But, through the magic of being a Tanglewood Fellow, I found myself on the second row. This time I was able to fully appreciate the enormity of his voice, as well as study the way he handled the concert. How was it the same in his eyes? How was it different? I was equally moved by both his performances, with the same question coming to mind both nights - Do I have what I takes to do that?
Another advantage of being so close to him, even though we were behind (it was actually more like a 3/4 view), was that we could really see how he sings. How he uses his breath, his body, his face, to communicate the texts and music. We heard every word of his almost entirely English-language program. Phylis, our voice teacher here, would have been proud!
Then last night he gave the opposite of an intimate voice and piano recital - a performance of excerpts from Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürmberg with the BSO at the Shed for an audience of 20,000 people. But, through the magic of being a Tanglewood Fellow, I found myself on the second row. This time I was able to fully appreciate the enormity of his voice, as well as study the way he handled the concert. How was it the same in his eyes? How was it different? I was equally moved by both his performances, with the same question coming to mind both nights - Do I have what I takes to do that?
Tanglewood Moments
Tanglewood is the kind of place where ghosts appear. Where the past, present and future of classical music exist simultaneously. We are performing our opera in the same theater that held the US premiere of Britten's Peter Grimes, argued by some to be his greatest work. Leonard Berstein wrote Candide in the little red house just off the road from the main grounds. The number of world class artists who have spent time on these hills, many as Fellow like myself, is humbling.
And many of them come back, often and unexpectedly. Yesterday we had the annual Sponsor's Luncheon, where each Fellow is introduced to his Sponsor. (Each Fellowship is funded by a $250K endowment, the interest of which covers the $15K annual fee.) Afterwards, I was standing with a small group of singers; several of us had (at the urging of the caterers!) taken the potted begonias that were the centerpiece at our table. We noticed a decidedly Sponsor-looking couple walking by, also with begonias in their hands, and started a conversation about the flowers. The gentleman then said, "Are you all in 'the Dream?'" We said that we were, and made casual introductions of our roles. We had been chatting about the production when, all of a sudden, the faces of two of the guys went from polite interest to complete awe. They had read this man's name tag, and he was Benjamin Luxon, one of the greatest lyric baritones of the past 40 years. Being a singer who rarely listens to classical music, I didn't recognize his name, but I knew from Alex and Stefan's reaction that he was opera royalty! He and his wife were so gracious, inviting us to come spend our "free time" at their home nearby.
They also attended the afternoon rehearsal of the opera. Before leaving, Mr. Luxon pulled me aside and gave me a few tips. (Afterall, while he didn't premiere a roll in this opera, he did work with many original cast memebers and Britten himself. I figure his advice is worth taking to heart!) When he urged me to take more time with the musical "sighs" at the end of my scene in Act II, I told him I was afraid of being gauche. "Oh, be gauche! Be gauche, be gauche," he said. So I have permission! We'll see how far I can take it next time before my coaches reign me in.
And many of them come back, often and unexpectedly. Yesterday we had the annual Sponsor's Luncheon, where each Fellow is introduced to his Sponsor. (Each Fellowship is funded by a $250K endowment, the interest of which covers the $15K annual fee.) Afterwards, I was standing with a small group of singers; several of us had (at the urging of the caterers!) taken the potted begonias that were the centerpiece at our table. We noticed a decidedly Sponsor-looking couple walking by, also with begonias in their hands, and started a conversation about the flowers. The gentleman then said, "Are you all in 'the Dream?'" We said that we were, and made casual introductions of our roles. We had been chatting about the production when, all of a sudden, the faces of two of the guys went from polite interest to complete awe. They had read this man's name tag, and he was Benjamin Luxon, one of the greatest lyric baritones of the past 40 years. Being a singer who rarely listens to classical music, I didn't recognize his name, but I knew from Alex and Stefan's reaction that he was opera royalty! He and his wife were so gracious, inviting us to come spend our "free time" at their home nearby.
They also attended the afternoon rehearsal of the opera. Before leaving, Mr. Luxon pulled me aside and gave me a few tips. (Afterall, while he didn't premiere a roll in this opera, he did work with many original cast memebers and Britten himself. I figure his advice is worth taking to heart!) When he urged me to take more time with the musical "sighs" at the end of my scene in Act II, I told him I was afraid of being gauche. "Oh, be gauche! Be gauche, be gauche," he said. So I have permission! We'll see how far I can take it next time before my coaches reign me in.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Different than last year
I've been thinking about how this year at Tanglewood is different than last summer. Besides the obvious - living in my own apartment and not the dorm, having a car, singing an opera that was written 40 years ago instead of 40 days ago - there is the fallout from the obvious.
Last year I was friends with everybody; this year I only know the singers. Singers are funny people, in that they like to talk about singing 90% of the time. That gets old to me real fast... So I've been seeking out some conductors and composers and the occasional woodwind player for a bit of conversational variety. Last night, in fact, I had a beer and a great convo with our conductor, Stefan Asbury, about creating music/art of your own culture in foreign countries. Stefan is British, so he knows whereof he speaks (seeing as how Midsummer was written by an Englishman). He also has the ability to consume large amounts of beer and still be perfectly lucid. Impressive, I tell you.
The reason I was friends with everybody last year was because I saw them all the time. This summer I'm much more solitary, which is weird. Granted, at home in Seattle I am often alone, but being alone at one's home and alone away from home are very different. I get along with all the singers, but I miss my intimate friendships. I miss being able to cry at some random beautiful thing and having three other people start crying with me! (You know who you are...) Here, people just say, "There she goes again!"
Another thing that's different this year is my position in the pecking order. I have seniority this time around. I'm not the only one, but I'm in that group; I'm a "re-invite." That's cool. And another thing that I haven't experienced before is having my colleagues look up to me technically, to ask me technic questions and to express admiration. That is beyond cool! It makes me work a bit harder, too, I think, in order to keep meeting or exceeding their expectations.
The most important difference between this year and last? Costumes. No more Dancing-Bullfighting-Horseheaded-Elvis for me! This year I am a dream in white satin, a la Ginger Rogers. I have my second fitting tomorrow; I'll try to get a picture. I have a sheer cape that is trimmed with ostrich feathers at both the neck and bottom. White satin Robert Fox shoes, and a corset/bustier type foundation garment that is the same design worn by all the women in this year's The Stepford Wives. Rumor has it that my costume alone cost over $5000. Woohoo! A platinum blonde fngerwave wig wll round out the look. I can't wait. As my friend Amanda would say, "I get to be the pretty pretty princess!" But I'll find out tomorrow if I can actually sing in that corset...
Last year I was friends with everybody; this year I only know the singers. Singers are funny people, in that they like to talk about singing 90% of the time. That gets old to me real fast... So I've been seeking out some conductors and composers and the occasional woodwind player for a bit of conversational variety. Last night, in fact, I had a beer and a great convo with our conductor, Stefan Asbury, about creating music/art of your own culture in foreign countries. Stefan is British, so he knows whereof he speaks (seeing as how Midsummer was written by an Englishman). He also has the ability to consume large amounts of beer and still be perfectly lucid. Impressive, I tell you.
The reason I was friends with everybody last year was because I saw them all the time. This summer I'm much more solitary, which is weird. Granted, at home in Seattle I am often alone, but being alone at one's home and alone away from home are very different. I get along with all the singers, but I miss my intimate friendships. I miss being able to cry at some random beautiful thing and having three other people start crying with me! (You know who you are...) Here, people just say, "There she goes again!"
Another thing that's different this year is my position in the pecking order. I have seniority this time around. I'm not the only one, but I'm in that group; I'm a "re-invite." That's cool. And another thing that I haven't experienced before is having my colleagues look up to me technically, to ask me technic questions and to express admiration. That is beyond cool! It makes me work a bit harder, too, I think, in order to keep meeting or exceeding their expectations.
The most important difference between this year and last? Costumes. No more Dancing-Bullfighting-Horseheaded-Elvis for me! This year I am a dream in white satin, a la Ginger Rogers. I have my second fitting tomorrow; I'll try to get a picture. I have a sheer cape that is trimmed with ostrich feathers at both the neck and bottom. White satin Robert Fox shoes, and a corset/bustier type foundation garment that is the same design worn by all the women in this year's The Stepford Wives. Rumor has it that my costume alone cost over $5000. Woohoo! A platinum blonde fngerwave wig wll round out the look. I can't wait. As my friend Amanda would say, "I get to be the pretty pretty princess!" But I'll find out tomorrow if I can actually sing in that corset...
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
The Changeling Boy
In both of my Act I scenes in the opera, I am accompanied by a little boy. His name is Ryder Stanton, and he is eight years old. I will also have a total of 22 fairies attending me at all times, four of which act as my "honor guard" and have solo singing. Needless to say, I've been nervous about working with that many children. Kids can either be the most professional people in the cast, or the least, depending on their personalities and the leadership under which they are working. Well, we lucked out! I've worked with eight of the fairies (my four soloists and their understudies) and Ryder so far, and each one of them is prepared, disciplined and excited to be in the show. But not so excited that they get distracted; they take their work very seriously, talking about it on breaks and making suggestions to the choreographer. In fact, they came up with most of the movements for their big song and dance scene at the end of Act I! I am looking forward to working with all of them this weekend.
Ryder, my little pet, is a doll. He plays the little "changeling boy" - a child that has been stolen from the humans and secretly exchanged with a fairy - that Oberon and Tytania are fighting over. We have a great time riding in on the various platforms of the set, pretending that we're scared of falling off. (Ok, so I'm not pretending...) He comes from a family of children that have acted in Tanglewood operas for the past few years, and his family is so supportive. Ryder was only three when all four of his older siblings has small parts in Tanglewood's Falstaff, so this is his first time on the stage. But I'm sure it won't be his last.
Ryder, my little pet, is a doll. He plays the little "changeling boy" - a child that has been stolen from the humans and secretly exchanged with a fairy - that Oberon and Tytania are fighting over. We have a great time riding in on the various platforms of the set, pretending that we're scared of falling off. (Ok, so I'm not pretending...) He comes from a family of children that have acted in Tanglewood operas for the past few years, and his family is so supportive. Ryder was only three when all four of his older siblings has small parts in Tanglewood's Falstaff, so this is his first time on the stage. But I'm sure it won't be his last.
First Concert
I just realized that it's been almost a week since my last post! Yikes. Where to start? I am feeling much better; the cold progressed quickly, with each "stage" lasting about a day. It was a cold after all, and not allergies; but now we're all starting to react to the mold and mothballs in the theater! You know how singers are; if it's not one thing, it's another! But we cope...
Sunday's concert went fine. The songs were by Luigi Dallapiccola, one of the champions of 12-tone / serial music. As a singer, if you don't have perfect pitch (which I don't), learning music like this can be extremely hard. It is essentially like learning a whole new musical language, and I had a month to do it! Three out of four of the songs went great. But the first one was gave me the most trouble, both in rehearsal and in performance. Fortunately, as these songs are not staples of the vocal repertoire, no one in the audience (except my coach) could tell when I completely flubbed the first two lines!! I was so flustered that I had to fight the impulse to stop and start over. But, my accompanist was right there with me and we made it through together. We finished strong, and people only had good things to say afterwards. I am grateful, though, that I am planning to sing these again on my March recital in Seattle; I'll get a second chance...
Sunday's concert went fine. The songs were by Luigi Dallapiccola, one of the champions of 12-tone / serial music. As a singer, if you don't have perfect pitch (which I don't), learning music like this can be extremely hard. It is essentially like learning a whole new musical language, and I had a month to do it! Three out of four of the songs went great. But the first one was gave me the most trouble, both in rehearsal and in performance. Fortunately, as these songs are not staples of the vocal repertoire, no one in the audience (except my coach) could tell when I completely flubbed the first two lines!! I was so flustered that I had to fight the impulse to stop and start over. But, my accompanist was right there with me and we made it through together. We finished strong, and people only had good things to say afterwards. I am grateful, though, that I am planning to sing these again on my March recital in Seattle; I'll get a second chance...
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Allergies
I have avoided jumping on the singer bandwagon of "allergies." Seems like that is a common excuse for not singing well, and I just won't let myself. In fact, I generally poo-poo those who do. Well, karma has come pay me my dues! Last night I started to feel a tickle in the back of my throat, and I woke up this morning with my head full of cotton. Whether it is the "allergy" that many other singers are suffering from or just a cold that we're sharing with each other, I've got it.
Fortunately, The Voice is not affected. I've drunk 4 liters of water today, I'm taking Vit C, echinnacea, and Tylenol Cold, andusing Zicam. If this is a cold, it should't stand a chance. And I stand to get ten hours of sleep tonight, so that should help.
Keep your fingers crossed...
Fortunately, The Voice is not affected. I've drunk 4 liters of water today, I'm taking Vit C, echinnacea, and Tylenol Cold, andusing Zicam. If this is a cold, it should't stand a chance. And I stand to get ten hours of sleep tonight, so that should help.
Keep your fingers crossed...
Fourth of July
My good friend Paula and I are trying to establish a new Tanglewood Fourth of July tradition - sneaking onto Tanglewood's beach after dark and swimming out to the floating platform with dry towels and bottles of wine held over our heads. We did it last year with our friends Deborah, John and Daniel; this year the crew was Eammon (Paula's boyfriend), Lance, Sarah, and Peter. After an 80-degree day, the lake water is delightful; it's the getting out of the water that hurts! But that's what the towels were for (and the wine!). After a brief swim, we sat on the platform and watched the fireworks going off around the lake. At one point, when the Twd fireworks were going off behind us, I turned towards the lake and saw a solitary sailboat. There was enough breeze for a very easy sail, and they must have had the best view for fireworks. Then it was time to brave the water once more and head home. We all agreed that in addition to being a 4th of July tradition, night swims on the Stockbridge Bowl should be regualr events at Tanglewood. I'll see what I can do about that...
Monday, July 05, 2004
First staging rehearsal today! We are working in the actual theater from the start because the set is one giant staircase. Hard to tape that out on the dorm gym floor. Imagine a scene from one of those old movie musicals with the rows and rows of dancers streaming off a staircase in opposing directions, forming concentric circles on the floor. You know what I'm talking about? It's that kind of staircase. Amazing. I'll post a picture tomorrow.
The director is really great, too; David Kneuss (pronounced like "niece") is his name, and he's worked at T'wood for many years (although not last year, MUCH to my dismay!). He's also Executive Stage Director at the Met, so he's good to know! He seems very organized and efficient, but also open to discussion and exploring with the cast. He has a definite vision, and a great suport team. Those of you who know about last year's experience will know that all this is a welcome difference. Those who don't, well, let's just move on...
My opening scene is the fight scene with Oberon. It's a great scene musically, and David (along with Alisa, our choreographer) has staged a dance of sorts, a stylized tango. It's great. Very sensual and elegant.
Oh! I just remembered that the opera is going to be broadcast on the radio here in Massachusetts. I'll look into seeing if the station has streaming broadcasts on the web, so you all can listen!
Sunday I have a concert in the morning, and I need to go spend some time with the music before I go to bed. It has been raining all day, so the air is muggy; not great for sleeping, but wonderful to listen to. Maybe it will lull me to sleep...
The director is really great, too; David Kneuss (pronounced like "niece") is his name, and he's worked at T'wood for many years (although not last year, MUCH to my dismay!). He's also Executive Stage Director at the Met, so he's good to know! He seems very organized and efficient, but also open to discussion and exploring with the cast. He has a definite vision, and a great suport team. Those of you who know about last year's experience will know that all this is a welcome difference. Those who don't, well, let's just move on...
My opening scene is the fight scene with Oberon. It's a great scene musically, and David (along with Alisa, our choreographer) has staged a dance of sorts, a stylized tango. It's great. Very sensual and elegant.
Oh! I just remembered that the opera is going to be broadcast on the radio here in Massachusetts. I'll look into seeing if the station has streaming broadcasts on the web, so you all can listen!
Sunday I have a concert in the morning, and I need to go spend some time with the music before I go to bed. It has been raining all day, so the air is muggy; not great for sleeping, but wonderful to listen to. Maybe it will lull me to sleep...
Saturday, July 03, 2004
Ok, so my plan to blog everyday is not working! Hopefully I'll get better as time goes on. I need to think about writing lots of short posts instead of waiting and having three days worth of stuff to talk about!
Today we had our first "sing-through" of Midsummer. What an amazing piece! So funny, and beautfiul. Britten really captured the three worlds that exist in the play - Fairy, Lover, and Rustic. The Rustics (the group of workmen hired to put on a play for the duke's wedding) have some of the greatest music, and the men singing those roles are all outstanding. The four Lovers are also wonderful; the girl singing Helena is absolutely beautiful. This is funny because Helena has a line "I am as ugly as a bear!" We all are imagining the audience bursting out laughing at that point! Maybe they'll put her in ugly makeup, but it take a lot to hide her pretty face. There will be 22 children makng up my fairy court, and Oberon's Puck is played by a local young man. Our music is very ethereal, with lots of harps and shimmering strings. The opera's finaly chorus, in which Oberon and Tytania bless the newly wedded couples makes me cry everytime.
That's enough for one post. More soon!
Today we had our first "sing-through" of Midsummer. What an amazing piece! So funny, and beautfiul. Britten really captured the three worlds that exist in the play - Fairy, Lover, and Rustic. The Rustics (the group of workmen hired to put on a play for the duke's wedding) have some of the greatest music, and the men singing those roles are all outstanding. The four Lovers are also wonderful; the girl singing Helena is absolutely beautiful. This is funny because Helena has a line "I am as ugly as a bear!" We all are imagining the audience bursting out laughing at that point! Maybe they'll put her in ugly makeup, but it take a lot to hide her pretty face. There will be 22 children makng up my fairy court, and Oberon's Puck is played by a local young man. Our music is very ethereal, with lots of harps and shimmering strings. The opera's finaly chorus, in which Oberon and Tytania bless the newly wedded couples makes me cry everytime.
That's enough for one post. More soon!
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
4 days in the Berkshires
Friday morning Mark dropped us off at Pier 11 where the passenger ferries that feed NYC dock. We bought our tickets for the 8:10 ferry back to B*something* NJ. (Some things do not stay in my brain no matter how many times my wife tells me what they are) We had about 25 minutes until our ferry was suppose to depart so Anne Carolyn went to get some provisions from Starbucks. A ferry pulled up to our slip and people started pouring off it and coming up the gangplank from the slip. we made our way over with all our luggage and our Starbucks goodies and waiting for the stream of people to subside so that We could make our way down to the slip and board. On our way over there Anne Carolyn dropped her latte. And then we noticed that pretty much as soon as the last person got off the ferry, the boat started pulling away. Anne Carolyn ran down the ramp shouting "Wait!" and I think maybe some words of an expletive nature. They pulled back torwards the slip and we found out that they were not going to where we were going. After one more false alarm (we were camped out down on the slip now) our boat arrived. After 200+ people disembarked, 2 people got on... -AC and I.
The Ferry had some friendly if somewhat rough around the edges personel and some pretty good coffee which helped sooth the loss of the fallen latte. We took our coffees up to the upper deck and stood in the lee of the cabin out of the wind. As the City started to disappear our attention turned to shipping traffic and sailboats. It was a really nice little cruise for $15.
On our arrival in NJ Anne Carolyn called Greg the previous owner of our $900 1988 Toyota Corolla. After about 10 or 15 mins, he arrived with the car which is in excellent and refused an offer of a ride home, saying he was going to get some coffee and call a cab.
Anyhow, we made our way up the NJ parkway to the Berkshires. We stopped in Pittsfield and picked up a map of the area at a drug store. We went over to Miss Hall's where the check in was and then figured out how to get to the Apt that we are renting.
Larry and Gale who own the apartment were still busy fixing it up when we arrived. All new apliances (some of which are not yet hooked up), a new ceiling fan (which does work very nicely), a new bed, and some other nice things like cable tv and a dvd player.
Anyhow, Gale and Larry are super people and I feel good about AC living upstairs from them.
There is a Cybercafe about 2 blocks from where AC is living, however they have really weird Summer hours and were never open when we wanted to go there. This is a different one than AC and I had originally tracked. However, we get really good phone reception in the apartment so I figured out how to use her cell phone as a modem/gateway to access the internet via the IR port on her phone and PDA. It's pretty crazy but it works! Google, Email, posting here, the whole deal.
I just sent her off today a small box of things including a cable that should let her use a full sized keyboard with her pda.
In less technical areas of the trip, we enjoyed tooling around the Berkshires a bit and just generally getting settled in. We had a nice picnic on the Tanglewood grounds and some walks around Pittsfield which has a kind of 1940's small town feel to it. I think it lacks major industry now though so it is in a process of re-orientation. There is a pretty neat Art thing going on there where there are all of these sheep that have been painted and done up. (not real sheep but fiberglass)
I gotta go do some work... I'll try to write some more later!
The Ferry had some friendly if somewhat rough around the edges personel and some pretty good coffee which helped sooth the loss of the fallen latte. We took our coffees up to the upper deck and stood in the lee of the cabin out of the wind. As the City started to disappear our attention turned to shipping traffic and sailboats. It was a really nice little cruise for $15.
On our arrival in NJ Anne Carolyn called Greg the previous owner of our $900 1988 Toyota Corolla. After about 10 or 15 mins, he arrived with the car which is in excellent and refused an offer of a ride home, saying he was going to get some coffee and call a cab.
Anyhow, we made our way up the NJ parkway to the Berkshires. We stopped in Pittsfield and picked up a map of the area at a drug store. We went over to Miss Hall's where the check in was and then figured out how to get to the Apt that we are renting.
Larry and Gale who own the apartment were still busy fixing it up when we arrived. All new apliances (some of which are not yet hooked up), a new ceiling fan (which does work very nicely), a new bed, and some other nice things like cable tv and a dvd player.
Anyhow, Gale and Larry are super people and I feel good about AC living upstairs from them.
There is a Cybercafe about 2 blocks from where AC is living, however they have really weird Summer hours and were never open when we wanted to go there. This is a different one than AC and I had originally tracked. However, we get really good phone reception in the apartment so I figured out how to use her cell phone as a modem/gateway to access the internet via the IR port on her phone and PDA. It's pretty crazy but it works! Google, Email, posting here, the whole deal.
I just sent her off today a small box of things including a cable that should let her use a full sized keyboard with her pda.
In less technical areas of the trip, we enjoyed tooling around the Berkshires a bit and just generally getting settled in. We had a nice picnic on the Tanglewood grounds and some walks around Pittsfield which has a kind of 1940's small town feel to it. I think it lacks major industry now though so it is in a process of re-orientation. There is a pretty neat Art thing going on there where there are all of these sheep that have been painted and done up. (not real sheep but fiberglass)
I gotta go do some work... I'll try to write some more later!
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Today I had my first interview with the NY Times. Granted, it wasn't really about me, but still! My name will be in the Times. Cool. It was for an article on the collaboration between Tanglewood and Mark Morris.
Hmm... it just dawned on me that you may not know about that collaboration. Last year has the first time TWD invited a dance group - the Mark Morris Dance Group - to come give a dance concert with music provided by the fellows. In addition to learning the music we performed with them, we got to attend their rehearsals and have workshops with them. In these workshops, they taught us a movement of one of the dances they perform - the exact same choreography! I think the piece was Bach's first cello suite. Most of the other fellows have very little dance training, but the professional dancers were so patient. I was having a blast! I love dancing, so getting to dance Mark Morris's choreography, even in a workshop setting, was amazing. Oh, and then we got to perform the piece for a group of other fellows - with Yo-yo Ma playing cello! Talk about surreal...
So Mark Morris enjoyed being at TWD so much that he asked to Come back. His group has been here since Saturday, and our concerts are this weekend. We're performing Vivaldi's "Gloria;" last year we did a Bach motet. Tony Fogg (BSO Artistic Director) told me that MM wants to come every year. How great for TWD.
Back to my interview! I think I was chosen because I was here last year, too, and because I obviously love it.
I was asked what the other fellows had been saying about the classes, and how/if I felt the classes have heped me as a musician, among other things. You'll have to watch for the article to hear my answers...
Hmm... it just dawned on me that you may not know about that collaboration. Last year has the first time TWD invited a dance group - the Mark Morris Dance Group - to come give a dance concert with music provided by the fellows. In addition to learning the music we performed with them, we got to attend their rehearsals and have workshops with them. In these workshops, they taught us a movement of one of the dances they perform - the exact same choreography! I think the piece was Bach's first cello suite. Most of the other fellows have very little dance training, but the professional dancers were so patient. I was having a blast! I love dancing, so getting to dance Mark Morris's choreography, even in a workshop setting, was amazing. Oh, and then we got to perform the piece for a group of other fellows - with Yo-yo Ma playing cello! Talk about surreal...
So Mark Morris enjoyed being at TWD so much that he asked to Come back. His group has been here since Saturday, and our concerts are this weekend. We're performing Vivaldi's "Gloria;" last year we did a Bach motet. Tony Fogg (BSO Artistic Director) told me that MM wants to come every year. How great for TWD.
Back to my interview! I think I was chosen because I was here last year, too, and because I obviously love it.
I was asked what the other fellows had been saying about the classes, and how/if I felt the classes have heped me as a musician, among other things. You'll have to watch for the article to hear my answers...
Sunday, June 27, 2004
My first official post from Tanglewood! The internet set-up is still a little shaky, so you'll have to bear w/ short posts for a while. I am using my phone as a modem and writing on my PDA. (I can't seem to consistently Write certain letters in loWercase. As you can see...) Next week Erik will send me a cable for my portable keyboard, so I should be able to write more then.
For now, though: my apartment is great. I have 3 rooms (plus bath) in a 2OO-year-old house. The owners, Gail and Larry, are so nice. They have a bit of a west coast air about them, and Erik and I have enjoyed talking with them. There are 3 cats and a very energetic dog, so my "small animal" fix will be met. One of the cats can open the door into my apartment, so I have to keep it locked!
Rehearsals are already in full swing. It is so good to be back here, Making music at this level. The Britten (Midsummer) is going to be spectacular! All the singers seen very nice, and of course it's good to see friends from last year. More on all that later.
Erik leaves toMOrrow. It has been great having hiM here; it has really made this place feel like home. I will miss him.
For now, though: my apartment is great. I have 3 rooms (plus bath) in a 2OO-year-old house. The owners, Gail and Larry, are so nice. They have a bit of a west coast air about them, and Erik and I have enjoyed talking with them. There are 3 cats and a very energetic dog, so my "small animal" fix will be met. One of the cats can open the door into my apartment, so I have to keep it locked!
Rehearsals are already in full swing. It is so good to be back here, Making music at this level. The Britten (Midsummer) is going to be spectacular! All the singers seen very nice, and of course it's good to see friends from last year. More on all that later.
Erik leaves toMOrrow. It has been great having hiM here; it has really made this place feel like home. I will miss him.
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