I can’t believe I’m doing this, especially after the latest installment of Vocal Identity Crisis 2009, but I have an audition tomorrow, and I think I’m going to offer... Zerbinetta.
What the... ?!?
I’ll write more tomorrow after the fact. I’m not 100% sure yet that I’m going to offer it, but the audition is pretty specific and I feel like Zerb would best show the goods needed for this role. However, I haven’t sung it in about a year! I know I still know it - it’s easily the one piece I’ve spent the most time on that has never really seen the light of day. It has seen an audition or two, and I know I rock it, but I rock it for different reasons than most “Zerbinettas.” My German is good, my acting is good, my musicianship is good, my E-flat is... ok. But I can’t think about that now!! (And besides, this role doesn’t have an E-flat...)
Tonight I recover from my flight - lots of water and a healthy dinner - and get a good night’s sleep, then wake up tomorrow and see if the voice is there. I feel much more “in the driver’s seat” after my crisis and resolution this weekend, so I’m kind of excited to see what happens tomorrow.
Won’t this be fun!! Stay tuned... :)
Showing posts with label audience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label audience. Show all posts
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Romance
About halfway through the first part of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra concert at Carnegie Hall this afternoon, I knew what I wanted to write about today: applause. But then I had an encounter at intermission that trumped my first idea, at least temporarily.
Yesterday I did something to my back, tweaked it somehow, and I’ve been in pretty serious pain on and off since then. It’s an old injury, from my gymnastics days, and if my overall core strength is diminished or if I sleep in a too-soft bed, one wrong move can set things a-spazzin’. Not fun. (For more on injuries to girls in high school and college sports programs, read this article from last week’s NYTimes. I was FAR from an athlete, and I still have physical maladies that plague me. I can only imagine what today’s hardcore female athletes will have to deal with unless they get better strength training and preventative care.)
ANyway... I digress. At intermission, as we were getting up from our (wonderful and generously donated orchestra) seats, I had to grab my friend’s arm to get up to a standing position. My friend was (still is, actually) a man, not my boyfriend, but it’s crowded and pushy in that aisle at intermission, and so I was standing very close to him, doing my best to stand up straight and not get jostled about. He had just asked about the pain in my back, and as I was telling him, a woman walked past us and said “This is no place for a romance, kids.”
Umm... excuse me?! I turned to watch her go, my mouth agape, and before I could stop myself I said, “I’m in pain, but thank you.” (I don’t know what that was supposed to mean, but that’s what came out.) As I turned back in astonishment to JM, another woman was passing by and acknowledged the first woman’s comment. “That was so rude! And even if you weren’t in pain, why isn’t this a place for a romance?!”
Why not, indeed. There were so many things wrong with that woman’s behavior, I almost don’t know where to start. How about: mind your own business? You can never tell what is going unless you are directly involved in a conversation. There was no PDA, no googly eyes, no sweet talk. She made a snap judgement, and it was completely wrong. She should have kept her mouth shut. I’m sure that if I hadn’t been in such pain, I would have come up with an even more witty statement to tell her so.
And how about: this is exactly the kind of attitude that keeps “kids” out of the concert halls! As the second woman recognized, a passionate orchestra concert on a rainy Sunday afternoon is fantastic place for romance! (She was there with a handsome gent who seemed tickled by the whole encounter. There seemed to be a bit of romance between them... but what do I know.) There certainly was enough passion on that stage to ignite a fire, and the buzz in the auditorium at the end was absolutely hott. The audience felt the enthusiasm coming from the performers, and they responded to it with an extended ovation. My dictionary widget defines "romance" thusly (second definition): “a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life.” Seems a pretty good definition of what was going on in that hall today. How sad that this womanwas seemed only concerned with everyone minding their p’s and q’s. Were I not “a regular” at this sort of thing, I can see how her comment would have turned me sour on ever going back.
I wonder why she was there in the first place. What did she get from the afternoon? Did the music move her in any way? Or was she one of the people who jumped out of her seat after Gergiev’s first bow, heading toward the exit to grab her coat and find a cab? Maybe I’m wrong, and maybe she was one of the hundreds who stood and called him back three times, eager to thank him and the orchestra for temporarily transporting them. Those who stood and applauded until the end are guilty of what some might see as inappropriate conduct in a venerable hall like Carnegie.
We all had a romance with Maestro Gergiev and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra. I hope we did not offend.
Yesterday I did something to my back, tweaked it somehow, and I’ve been in pretty serious pain on and off since then. It’s an old injury, from my gymnastics days, and if my overall core strength is diminished or if I sleep in a too-soft bed, one wrong move can set things a-spazzin’. Not fun. (For more on injuries to girls in high school and college sports programs, read this article from last week’s NYTimes. I was FAR from an athlete, and I still have physical maladies that plague me. I can only imagine what today’s hardcore female athletes will have to deal with unless they get better strength training and preventative care.)
ANyway... I digress. At intermission, as we were getting up from our (wonderful and generously donated orchestra) seats, I had to grab my friend’s arm to get up to a standing position. My friend was (still is, actually) a man, not my boyfriend, but it’s crowded and pushy in that aisle at intermission, and so I was standing very close to him, doing my best to stand up straight and not get jostled about. He had just asked about the pain in my back, and as I was telling him, a woman walked past us and said “This is no place for a romance, kids.”
Umm... excuse me?! I turned to watch her go, my mouth agape, and before I could stop myself I said, “I’m in pain, but thank you.” (I don’t know what that was supposed to mean, but that’s what came out.) As I turned back in astonishment to JM, another woman was passing by and acknowledged the first woman’s comment. “That was so rude! And even if you weren’t in pain, why isn’t this a place for a romance?!”
Why not, indeed. There were so many things wrong with that woman’s behavior, I almost don’t know where to start. How about: mind your own business? You can never tell what is going unless you are directly involved in a conversation. There was no PDA, no googly eyes, no sweet talk. She made a snap judgement, and it was completely wrong. She should have kept her mouth shut. I’m sure that if I hadn’t been in such pain, I would have come up with an even more witty statement to tell her so.
And how about: this is exactly the kind of attitude that keeps “kids” out of the concert halls! As the second woman recognized, a passionate orchestra concert on a rainy Sunday afternoon is fantastic place for romance! (She was there with a handsome gent who seemed tickled by the whole encounter. There seemed to be a bit of romance between them... but what do I know.) There certainly was enough passion on that stage to ignite a fire, and the buzz in the auditorium at the end was absolutely hott. The audience felt the enthusiasm coming from the performers, and they responded to it with an extended ovation. My dictionary widget defines "romance" thusly (second definition): “a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life.” Seems a pretty good definition of what was going on in that hall today. How sad that this woman
I wonder why she was there in the first place. What did she get from the afternoon? Did the music move her in any way? Or was she one of the people who jumped out of her seat after Gergiev’s first bow, heading toward the exit to grab her coat and find a cab? Maybe I’m wrong, and maybe she was one of the hundreds who stood and called him back three times, eager to thank him and the orchestra for temporarily transporting them. Those who stood and applauded until the end are guilty of what some might see as inappropriate conduct in a venerable hall like Carnegie.
We all had a romance with Maestro Gergiev and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra. I hope we did not offend.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Tonight, with Djordje
Nocturne Op. 5 - Despic
Vocalise, Op. 34 No. 14 - Rachmaninov
Two Nocturnes Op. 27 - Chopin
1. c# minor
2. Db major
Fiancailles pour rire - Poulenc
La Dame d'Andre
Dans l'herbe
Il vole
Mon cadavre et doux comme un gant
Violon
Fleurs
Moment musical in Db major - Rachmaninov
Prayer
Prelude in G major
Loneliness
Prelude in g# minor
How fair this spot
No prophet I
The printed program also includes the following note:
If you choose to follow along with the text, please turn pages quietly.
Another option: skim the poems ahead of time and then just let me tell you the story...
We'll see how that works!
Tomorrow morning I'll be accompanying my lovely niece to her first opera! We'll go to the final dress rehearsal of The Magic Flute, and I think we're both very excited. I'll post a full report of both events this weekend, in between Iphigenie study sessions. Rehearsals for that start on Monday!
Vocalise, Op. 34 No. 14 - Rachmaninov
Two Nocturnes Op. 27 - Chopin
1. c# minor
2. Db major
Fiancailles pour rire - Poulenc
La Dame d'Andre
Dans l'herbe
Il vole
Mon cadavre et doux comme un gant
Violon
Fleurs
Moment musical in Db major - Rachmaninov
Prayer
Prelude in G major
Loneliness
Prelude in g# minor
How fair this spot
No prophet I
The printed program also includes the following note:
If you choose to follow along with the text, please turn pages quietly.
Another option: skim the poems ahead of time and then just let me tell you the story...
We'll see how that works!
Tomorrow morning I'll be accompanying my lovely niece to her first opera! We'll go to the final dress rehearsal of The Magic Flute, and I think we're both very excited. I'll post a full report of both events this weekend, in between Iphigenie study sessions. Rehearsals for that start on Monday!
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Compliments
I have a wonderful concert gown that I bought for last year’s concerts with Seattle Baroque. I bought it with CT the DT at a bridal shop in Wallingford, so it was my first gown that didn’t come from Nordstrom Rack or (C)Ross Dress for Less! (Two of my best gowns were less than $30, both at Ross!! Shhhhh…) This gown is beautiful cinnamon color, and is actually a skirt and a separate bustier. I instantly fell in love with the silhouette of the skirt; called a “souffle” skirt, it is gathered and tucked in mysterious ways and looks like an holiday confection. Since I’m on the thin side, I like a gown that gives me a bit more presence on stage, and this fits the bill. I wear it with a velvet bolero-type jacket (to cover my shoulders for sacred music) and a long black ribbon tied in a bow at the waist. (Hmm, I think I have a picture from last year's concerts at Benaroya around somewhere; I’ll dig it out and post it.)
The real story of this gown, though, is that I didn’t have time to wait for them to order my size, so I bought the floor sample – which was a size 10!
My skilled mother-in-law took out an entire panel of the bustier and a few inches out of the waist of the skirt, and it fit like a dream! It’s probably a bit big for “everyday” wear (whatever that is), but for singing, it’s perfect. I have plenty of room to expand my abdomen and ribcage, but have no fear of the strapless bustier falling down! Thanks, MR, if you’re still reading. I think of you every time I put it on.
When I wear this gown, I have to be prepared to get as many compliments, if not more, about it as I do about my singing! On Friday night, I even had a seamstress come up to me, so I got to tell the story of the alterations. She was very impressed!
Last night, I got two other compliments that stood out from the standard “"great job/thank you/beautiful dress" crowd. One a bit bizarre, but sweetly delivered: “You are just the most delicious thing! I told my friend, ‘She could puke on stage, and it would be worth watching!’” Um, thanks? hehehe
The second was quite possibly the best compliment I’ve ever received. A tall gentleman who looked not a little like James Cromwell said, “I want you to know that I loved both your singing and your voice. I think you’ll understand what I mean.”
Yes, I do, sir, and thank you for the reminder. We all have a voice; it’s what we do with it that sets us apart. (And again, as with my previous post, I’m not just talking about singing…)
The real story of this gown, though, is that I didn’t have time to wait for them to order my size, so I bought the floor sample – which was a size 10!
My skilled mother-in-law took out an entire panel of the bustier and a few inches out of the waist of the skirt, and it fit like a dream! It’s probably a bit big for “everyday” wear (whatever that is), but for singing, it’s perfect. I have plenty of room to expand my abdomen and ribcage, but have no fear of the strapless bustier falling down! Thanks, MR, if you’re still reading. I think of you every time I put it on. When I wear this gown, I have to be prepared to get as many compliments, if not more, about it as I do about my singing! On Friday night, I even had a seamstress come up to me, so I got to tell the story of the alterations. She was very impressed!
Last night, I got two other compliments that stood out from the standard “"great job/thank you/beautiful dress" crowd. One a bit bizarre, but sweetly delivered: “You are just the most delicious thing! I told my friend, ‘She could puke on stage, and it would be worth watching!’” Um, thanks? hehehe
The second was quite possibly the best compliment I’ve ever received. A tall gentleman who looked not a little like James Cromwell said, “I want you to know that I loved both your singing and your voice. I think you’ll understand what I mean.”
Yes, I do, sir, and thank you for the reminder. We all have a voice; it’s what we do with it that sets us apart. (And again, as with my previous post, I’m not just talking about singing…)
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