During an early staging rehearsal for Figaro, after I finished up a scene I sat back down next to a member of the cover cast. A singer I’ve admired for a while, she said, “So... how long did you dance?”
It seems my dancing days are still evident, not just when I’m dancing, but in the general way I “act” on stage. I’m not talking about having a good carriage or being graceful; she could see my “inner dancer” in the way I flitted about on stage, in the way I was always moving. In this case, not necessarily the best thing.
She went on to talk of her own experience (she also had a dance background), including the time a director encouraged her to rein in her physicality, to explore a physical stillness that would allow her voice to do more of the work telling the story. With opera, we can trust the composer (if s/he’s a good one) to help us express character, including silliness or flightiness; we don’t necessarily need to do it all with the body. For example, it was amazing to watch and listen as Susan Graham worked her way through the Iphigenie rehearsals. Talk about acting with the voice! She is a wonderful actor, period, but the emotions that come through her voice as she stands there and sings can blow your mind. She’s not “showing” us how she feels; she’s feeling it, and her voice is expressing it. She simply lets her voice deliver the emotions that Gluck captured in his music. It’s inspiring.
Granted, Barbarina is a flighty girl, probably a bit high-strung. Think of the line from Act I, when the Count describes finding Cherubino in Barbarina’s house: he describes her as being paurosa fuor dell'uso, “flustered more than usual.” So it was interesting to think about economy of movement, especially thinking ahead to performing Susanna. Barbarina’s aria was a good exercise is doing less, in letting the anxiety of the music tell the story: minor key, undulating triple meter, those repeated c's in the orchestra. It's all right there. Of course, in the recit after the aria, she is quick to try to hide her anxiety, back to her flighty ways while talking with Figaro and Marcellina.
In another early rehearsal, I noted how well Terfel handled the physical interactions that were blocked. I was kneeling down on the floor, looking for the pin, and when he came to lift me up by the arm, he barely touched me. His voice and the rest of his body acted as if he were taking out his frustrations on me (“What do you know about these things?!”), but his hand was practically limp. A grimace on my face and a movement of my arm as if trying to get out of a grip, and voila! Stage violence.
As I described in an earlier post, he changed up this blocking one night, but all he did was touch the back of my neck. It was up to me to (quickly!) figure out what he was doing (lifting me up by the scruff of my neck) and react accordingly. It was fun to struggle against his non-existent grip, to make it look like I was a kid getting dragged off to the principal’s office.
There were all kinds of interactions like this in Figaro: the Count pulling Cherubino by his ear, various “romantic” entanglements, Susanna’s slaps of Figaro, and the physical face-off between the Count and Figaro in Act III. Simon also did a huge pratfall every night, taking a swinging kick at Bryn and going flying. Fantastic physical comedy, focused and carefully planned.
This post may seem to contradict a lot of what I wrote in the previous post, but I’m pretty sure it’s all of a piece. I’m not saying I need to be more still on stage by being more cerebral, less physical; I just need to focus the energy. Trust the music. Be present in my body, tell the story with my voice - which is part of my body - and not with my head. As always, it’s a balance.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Sunday, December 09, 2007
FriPod: Accidently to After
1. Accidently Kelly Street, Frente, Marvin the Album
2. Acrobat, U2, Achtung Baby
3. Across the Universe, Rufus Wainwright, Poses
4. Action / Adventure, Andrew Bird, Weather Systems
5. Ada, The National, Boxer
6. Adé, David Byrne, The Catherine Wheel
7. Adventures in Solitude, The New Pornographers, Challengers
8. Advice for the Young at Heart, Tears for Fears, The Seeds of Love
9. After it All, Cat Power, The Greatest
10. After the Bombs, The Decemberists, The Crane Wife
2. Acrobat, U2, Achtung Baby
3. Across the Universe, Rufus Wainwright, Poses
4. Action / Adventure, Andrew Bird, Weather Systems
5. Ada, The National, Boxer
6. Adé, David Byrne, The Catherine Wheel
7. Adventures in Solitude, The New Pornographers, Challengers
8. Advice for the Young at Heart, Tears for Fears, The Seeds of Love
9. After it All, Cat Power, The Greatest
10. After the Bombs, The Decemberists, The Crane Wife
Out of Your Head
I’ve been planning a post for weeks, maybe months, about the importance of getting out of your head and into your body as a singer, and, well, here it is. (Ed. Note: It’s true; I started this post in July...)
The idea first came to me while watching “the big stars” in rehearsals at the Met this past year. Singers who have extensive backgrounds in physical arts - like Diana Damrau (dance) and Rolando Villazon (clowning), for example, two folks I got to see in action – are such a joy to watch onstage! They are not only more comfortable with crazy stage actions like lying down to sing or running or dancing, but they are also able to use their full instrument (it’s more than just the voice!) to engage the listener and to tell the story. Their minds were were completely present on stage, or, at least, so it seemed from the outside. Which, ultimately, is what you want.
It’s as if they’re not actively “thinking.” Singing for them is a physical act, not a cerebral one. Of course, of course: the mind is involved, and the hours of “armchair work” studying languages and rhythms and endless drilling of memory are not unimportant. But when it comes time to get a character on her feet? It’s physical. Not to mention the fact that our actual instrument is located in the body, not the mind...
I can add now, in December, Bryn Terfel: I don’t know what his dance/movement/sports background is, other than rugby, but he is a great physical actor, someone who definitely just goes and there and plays. He has obviously put a lot of thought into his performance and practice and character, but the cerebral brain is turned off on-stage. More on physicality and my Figaro experience in another post.
One night this summer, over at RM’s for dinner, LB and I started waltzing in the kitchen (doing our best to get in the way as much as possible). It began just kind of silly (sillily?), but it didn’t take me long to realize that he actually knew how to waltz! So, instead of just playing around, I had to actively turn of the thinking part of my brain and just give over to the physical act of dancing. When I could let go and let him lead, it was smooth sailing. (It’s so nice to dance with a tall man who knows how to dance, right?) But as soon as my head got involved again, we were at odds (but only slightly). I’m not saying you shouldn’t think when you’re on-stage; obviously, you have to. But it is possible to get in your way.
When students ask me what they should do with themselves while they are building their voices, waiting the 5-10 years between finishing school and being ready (maybe) to work, I encourage them to dance. Take any kind of dance class - ballroom, modern, jazz, ballet, hip-hop, whatever. Or take martial arts or fencing. Anything that gets you out of your mental, analytic, judgmental self and into your physical, instinctual, visceral self. Get out of your head and into your body. Your voice will thank you for it.
The idea first came to me while watching “the big stars” in rehearsals at the Met this past year. Singers who have extensive backgrounds in physical arts - like Diana Damrau (dance) and Rolando Villazon (clowning), for example, two folks I got to see in action – are such a joy to watch onstage! They are not only more comfortable with crazy stage actions like lying down to sing or running or dancing, but they are also able to use their full instrument (it’s more than just the voice!) to engage the listener and to tell the story. Their minds were were completely present on stage, or, at least, so it seemed from the outside. Which, ultimately, is what you want.
It’s as if they’re not actively “thinking.” Singing for them is a physical act, not a cerebral one. Of course, of course: the mind is involved, and the hours of “armchair work” studying languages and rhythms and endless drilling of memory are not unimportant. But when it comes time to get a character on her feet? It’s physical. Not to mention the fact that our actual instrument is located in the body, not the mind...
I can add now, in December, Bryn Terfel: I don’t know what his dance/movement/sports background is, other than rugby, but he is a great physical actor, someone who definitely just goes and there and plays. He has obviously put a lot of thought into his performance and practice and character, but the cerebral brain is turned off on-stage. More on physicality and my Figaro experience in another post.
One night this summer, over at RM’s for dinner, LB and I started waltzing in the kitchen (doing our best to get in the way as much as possible). It began just kind of silly (sillily?), but it didn’t take me long to realize that he actually knew how to waltz! So, instead of just playing around, I had to actively turn of the thinking part of my brain and just give over to the physical act of dancing. When I could let go and let him lead, it was smooth sailing. (It’s so nice to dance with a tall man who knows how to dance, right?) But as soon as my head got involved again, we were at odds (but only slightly). I’m not saying you shouldn’t think when you’re on-stage; obviously, you have to. But it is possible to get in your way.
When students ask me what they should do with themselves while they are building their voices, waiting the 5-10 years between finishing school and being ready (maybe) to work, I encourage them to dance. Take any kind of dance class - ballroom, modern, jazz, ballet, hip-hop, whatever. Or take martial arts or fencing. Anything that gets you out of your mental, analytic, judgmental self and into your physical, instinctual, visceral self. Get out of your head and into your body. Your voice will thank you for it.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Backlog
My life has been taken over by this beautiful little machine, so sorry - again! - for the quiet days. I’ve got a backlog of posts that I’ll try to get out this coming week. And it’s a serious backlog, too! I have half-finished posts from all the way back to mid-summer... Good stuff, though, and still relevant in the general sense. So I’ll get to it.
Here’s what to expect:
12/9: This week’s FriPod
Prompt
Doing vs. Being (Oops. This one actually got written and published, but I didn't get it out of my drafts folder. Read it here.)
12/12: Acting with the voice and stage physicality. 12/9: Part One is here: Out of Your Head
Ensemble
Level Up - we’re not kids anymore
Language work
Envy
The latest on The Bhakti Project
I know some folks have asked questions in the comments over the past year or so. If you did, and you still remember your question (and care about the answer!), please post it again on this post. I’m going to try to keep a better tab on questions in the future, hopefully answering them all. Eventually.
Here’s what to expect:
12/9: This week’s FriPod
Prompt
12/12: Acting with the voice and stage physicality. 12/9: Part One is here: Out of Your Head
Ensemble
Level Up - we’re not kids anymore
Language work
Envy
The latest on The Bhakti Project
I know some folks have asked questions in the comments over the past year or so. If you did, and you still remember your question (and care about the answer!), please post it again on this post. I’m going to try to keep a better tab on questions in the future, hopefully answering them all. Eventually.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Upgrades
Jessica gave me props a few days ago for actually doing what I said I was going to do and posting every day last week. I was pretty proud of that, myself, but the posts just came up naturally and easily and I had the time and energy to write. But the downside to such regularity? Some people think they can give you a hard time when you’ve been quiet for two days... I say: get back to work, already!
I hate to mention the reason for my lack of postage when another music blogger is struggling mightily with his new PC. Yes, I got a Mac. And last night I only slept about five hours because of it! So many things to learn! So many music files to transfer and try not to loose in the process! It’s kind of awesome, and all-consuming. (I’m sorry, Steve; I’m really not gloating. I feel your pain...)
This computer was my Sullivan award-funded gift to myself. I did a little clothes shopping, but my heart was really set on getting a smaller laptop that could actually stream media or run iTunes while I write or surf the web and not run slow as molasses. The overheating of was a problem, too; it was just time to upgrade. I got tired of having to skip over all the links my blog buddies posted for awesome YouTube videos or streaming concerts, and I couldn’t have even dreamed of exploring an online library of recordings. But at this moment I am listening to a lovely Herbie Hancock album on iTunes, a gift from JL (thank you!!), and yesterday I watched my first opera video on YouTube: my sweet friend LW singing Cendrillon! Awesome.
Lest you think I frittered away all my prize money, I thought I’d share (in general terms) how I used the bulk of the prize. Most singers at my stage of the game have two things in common, financially-speaking: lots of debt, both low-interest school loans and high-interest consumer debt; and no retirement savings (or savings of any kind, even). I am no exception. Add a move cross-country and a divorce in 2006, and I haven’t been in great financial shape until recently. This year I obtained both the means and the will to change that.
So, with some of the Sullivan money, I made a huge credit card payment. Because of my W2 status at the Met and Wolf Trap this year, I will likely get a large tax refund; that will also go to the credit card (minus a small shopping trip, of course). If things continue on apace, I will be consumer debt free by the end of 2008! Yay!!
After a conversation with another Sullivan awardee, I decided to put the rest of the money into a retirement account. I haven’t figured out whether to go Roth, SEP, 401(k), or what, but I will be making the maximum annual contribution to get things started. I’m 31, and I have no idea when I want to retire - or what retirement even means for a singer - but I need to start planning for the future. Whatever that may be.
I feel very, very lucky to be able to write this post. This fall I’ve been much more disciplined with my savings and spending, but I know that my newly found (more) stable financial footing is due is large part to the good fortune of having some great jobs this season. What will 08-09 hold in this regard? I have absolutely no idea. Right now, there are only two jobs on the calendar, and one of them is still “in pencil.”
So, best to plan ahead.
I hate to mention the reason for my lack of postage when another music blogger is struggling mightily with his new PC. Yes, I got a Mac. And last night I only slept about five hours because of it! So many things to learn! So many music files to transfer and try not to loose in the process! It’s kind of awesome, and all-consuming. (I’m sorry, Steve; I’m really not gloating. I feel your pain...)
This computer was my Sullivan award-funded gift to myself. I did a little clothes shopping, but my heart was really set on getting a smaller laptop that could actually stream media or run iTunes while I write or surf the web and not run slow as molasses. The overheating of was a problem, too; it was just time to upgrade. I got tired of having to skip over all the links my blog buddies posted for awesome YouTube videos or streaming concerts, and I couldn’t have even dreamed of exploring an online library of recordings. But at this moment I am listening to a lovely Herbie Hancock album on iTunes, a gift from JL (thank you!!), and yesterday I watched my first opera video on YouTube: my sweet friend LW singing Cendrillon! Awesome.
Lest you think I frittered away all my prize money, I thought I’d share (in general terms) how I used the bulk of the prize. Most singers at my stage of the game have two things in common, financially-speaking: lots of debt, both low-interest school loans and high-interest consumer debt; and no retirement savings (or savings of any kind, even). I am no exception. Add a move cross-country and a divorce in 2006, and I haven’t been in great financial shape until recently. This year I obtained both the means and the will to change that.
So, with some of the Sullivan money, I made a huge credit card payment. Because of my W2 status at the Met and Wolf Trap this year, I will likely get a large tax refund; that will also go to the credit card (minus a small shopping trip, of course). If things continue on apace, I will be consumer debt free by the end of 2008! Yay!!
After a conversation with another Sullivan awardee, I decided to put the rest of the money into a retirement account. I haven’t figured out whether to go Roth, SEP, 401(k), or what, but I will be making the maximum annual contribution to get things started. I’m 31, and I have no idea when I want to retire - or what retirement even means for a singer - but I need to start planning for the future. Whatever that may be.
I feel very, very lucky to be able to write this post. This fall I’ve been much more disciplined with my savings and spending, but I know that my newly found (more) stable financial footing is due is large part to the good fortune of having some great jobs this season. What will 08-09 hold in this regard? I have absolutely no idea. Right now, there are only two jobs on the calendar, and one of them is still “in pencil.”
So, best to plan ahead.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Finale
It took me until about 4:00 today to figure out why I was in such a funk. Was it the snow? The fact that I still haven’t stopped at Kashkaval for more coffee, making my usual morning ritual impossible? The fact that neither the Indy nor the Denver game would be broadcast in my area this afternoon? The desire for new winter boots? What?!
Then I realized: I had post-show blues. When a show ends, particularly a show you loved working on, it’s not uncommon to get a little depressed. And, as I think you know, I really loved this show. What more could I have asked for, really, for my first Italian Mozart experience? Not much.
Last night was a final show in more ways than one, being Bryn’s final go at the role of Figaro as well as the last show of our run. During the last number of the Finale (Mozart “finales” are usually 7 or 8 numbers long; go figure.) when everyone is essentially singing “hey, let’s all go party!” Simon had arranged with the folks at the Met to bring champagne flutes (filled with champagne, even!) onto the stage, so all the principals could toast Bryn – and each other – as we sang our last chorus together. It was a bit chaotic (I didn’t actually get my champagne until after we’d stopped singing!), and I’m sure the Maestro was going crazy trying to keep our attention, but what a way to end. The curtain dropped, and instead of rushing off-stage right away as normal, we all started hugging and toasting, prompting Jonathan, our stage manager, to hurry out and say “Come on, you still have to do the bows!”
So we reconvened in the tiny corner off-stage left, cheering and toasting some more, everyone trying to get through the crowd to hug Bryn, and making sure we drained our flutes before heading out to bow. (Well, all of us except MM, who carried his back out onstage and sweetly toasted the audience.) It was, as every night, so much fun. Are you guys getting tired of reading those three little words?!
Two colleagues from grad school were in the audience last night, along with the Brooklyn Birds and my former teacher. What has been even more fun than knowing people are in the audience is getting emails after shows from friends who went to the opera not knowing I was going to be singing! Or people who knew, but didn’t tell me before they came. After every show, I’ve gotten such wonderful comments and insights from friends old and new.
I am naturally sad to leave all of that behind. Now I face two months devoid of performing (other than auditions), two months of hard-core studying for February’s gigs. I’m entering a hibernating period at the coldest, darkest time of the year, a fact that has me a bit daunted, I think. But there are new projects in the brainstorming stage, current projects ready for the next phase, and Susanna, who will be a dear companion this winter, so I journey on.
Then I realized: I had post-show blues. When a show ends, particularly a show you loved working on, it’s not uncommon to get a little depressed. And, as I think you know, I really loved this show. What more could I have asked for, really, for my first Italian Mozart experience? Not much.
Last night was a final show in more ways than one, being Bryn’s final go at the role of Figaro as well as the last show of our run. During the last number of the Finale (Mozart “finales” are usually 7 or 8 numbers long; go figure.) when everyone is essentially singing “hey, let’s all go party!” Simon had arranged with the folks at the Met to bring champagne flutes (filled with champagne, even!) onto the stage, so all the principals could toast Bryn – and each other – as we sang our last chorus together. It was a bit chaotic (I didn’t actually get my champagne until after we’d stopped singing!), and I’m sure the Maestro was going crazy trying to keep our attention, but what a way to end. The curtain dropped, and instead of rushing off-stage right away as normal, we all started hugging and toasting, prompting Jonathan, our stage manager, to hurry out and say “Come on, you still have to do the bows!”
So we reconvened in the tiny corner off-stage left, cheering and toasting some more, everyone trying to get through the crowd to hug Bryn, and making sure we drained our flutes before heading out to bow. (Well, all of us except MM, who carried his back out onstage and sweetly toasted the audience.) It was, as every night, so much fun. Are you guys getting tired of reading those three little words?!
Two colleagues from grad school were in the audience last night, along with the Brooklyn Birds and my former teacher. What has been even more fun than knowing people are in the audience is getting emails after shows from friends who went to the opera not knowing I was going to be singing! Or people who knew, but didn’t tell me before they came. After every show, I’ve gotten such wonderful comments and insights from friends old and new.
I am naturally sad to leave all of that behind. Now I face two months devoid of performing (other than auditions), two months of hard-core studying for February’s gigs. I’m entering a hibernating period at the coldest, darkest time of the year, a fact that has me a bit daunted, I think. But there are new projects in the brainstorming stage, current projects ready for the next phase, and Susanna, who will be a dear companion this winter, so I journey on.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Good and Bad
Bad: a call from the casting director saying that the director has “decided to go with someone else.”
Good: he also said that they really liked my work, and that they would keep me in mind for future projects.
Good: an email from management saying they had an inquiry for my availability for a very cool new opera based on a play I LOVE directed by someone I’ve wanted to work with for years.
Bad: I’m not available.
It’s been an up-and-down day, you know? But I spent a few good hours working on my Figaro score at LPQ, accompanied for a time by LW. I did some shopping (tickets for Einstein on the Beach and closing night cast presents). I had a fun Hansel & Gretel coaching at the Met. I ran into a couple of former teachers, one of whom will be in the third row for tomorrow night’s final Figaro. And tonight I’ll see Andrew Bird in concert (finally!) with a good friend by my side.
The balance of things is still firmly in the "Good" column…
Good: he also said that they really liked my work, and that they would keep me in mind for future projects.
Good: an email from management saying they had an inquiry for my availability for a very cool new opera based on a play I LOVE directed by someone I’ve wanted to work with for years.
Bad: I’m not available.
It’s been an up-and-down day, you know? But I spent a few good hours working on my Figaro score at LPQ, accompanied for a time by LW. I did some shopping (tickets for Einstein on the Beach and closing night cast presents). I had a fun Hansel & Gretel coaching at the Met. I ran into a couple of former teachers, one of whom will be in the third row for tomorrow night’s final Figaro. And tonight I’ll see Andrew Bird in concert (finally!) with a good friend by my side.
The balance of things is still firmly in the "Good" column…
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The Girl from Ipanema
Borrowed from Little Ms. Bossy, a meme instead of the FriPod playlist. This was a lot of fun, especially adding LMB’s bit of finding a lyric that matched up with the question. Made some of the answers a bit more interesting. Or bizarre…
MEME Rules:
1. Put your iTunes/ music player on Shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT
1. If someone says ‘Is this OK?’ you say?
Round the Bed, Beck:
We dont have to worry
Life goes where it does
2. What would best describe your personality?
Made to Last, Semisonic:
Secret, sweet, and sublime
3. What do you like in a guy?
The End of the Summer, Dar Williams:
We have to get a move on.
Its just that time of year when we push ourselves ahead,
We push ourselves ahead.
4. How do you feel today?
Sleeping in, The Postal Service:
Dont wake me i plan on sleeping in…
5. What is your life’s purpose?
Care for a choro? Sasha (Russian flamenco quitarist I met in Atlanta):
Hmm. No words on this one… I could probably dance to this song though, so my purpose is to dance? Sure, I can live with that.
6. What is your motto?
Luna from Golijov’s Ayre:
Another one with no words. Think that’s a hint?
7. What do your friends think of you?
S’il est un charmant gazon (Liszt), Barbara Bonney & Antonio Pappano:
Read the translation here. I would be beyond happy if my friends said those words to me.
8. What do you think of your parents?
Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk, Rufus Wainwright:
And then there’s those other things
Which for several reasons we wont mention
Everything about ‘em is a little bit stranger…
Umm… pass? This one doesn’t fit...
9. What do you think about very often?
Empty Hearts, Alison Krauss:
Tell me what an empty heart must feel.
10. What does 2+2=
Mojo Pin, Jeff Buckley:
Well it's you I've waited my life to see
It's you I've searched so hard for...
11. What do you think of your best friend?
Pride (In the Name of Love), U2:
(nobody like you...)
12. What do you think of the person you like?
Can we go higher? Nenad Bach:
Higher?
(We can smile at the future)
13. What is your life story?
A mistake, Fiona Apple:
I’m gonna make a mistake-
I’m gonna do it on purpose…
14. What do you want to be when you grow up?
And Hiding Away, The Innocent Mission
Try, catch the thoughts that flap and fly
in the cloudy, tearing sky,
that touch and stir and won't be tied-
and try to speak them.
15. What do you think when you see the person you like?
Completely Pleased, Semisonic:
I want to see you smiling
(It gets a little PG-13-rated after that…)
16. What do your parents think of you?
Either Way, Wilco:
Either you will or you won't
Maybe you just need some time alone
I will try to understand.
17. What will you dance to at your wedding?
Somebody More Like You, Nickel Creek:
hahaha – This is NOT a good first dance song for a wedding!
18. What will they play at your funeral?
Schneckenlied (L. Alexander-Katz), Suzanne Mentzer & Craig Rutenberg:
Snail, snail! Love-Slug,
Into your parlour crawl snug…
Weird.
19. What is your hobby/interest?
Heart in a Cage, The Strokes:
And we gotta laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh
20. What is your biggest secret?
Ricochet in Time, Shawn Colvin:
I crawled up from the sewer
For something that was truer than I intended.
I ended up on my knees in this big city.
I was befriended, I transcended.
21. What do you think of your friends?
Beautiful, Christina Aguilera:
You are beautiful in every single way.
22. What should you post this as?
The Girl From Ipanema, João Gilberto & Stan Getz
MEME Rules:
1. Put your iTunes/ music player on Shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT
1. If someone says ‘Is this OK?’ you say?
Round the Bed, Beck:
We dont have to worry
Life goes where it does
2. What would best describe your personality?
Made to Last, Semisonic:
Secret, sweet, and sublime
3. What do you like in a guy?
The End of the Summer, Dar Williams:
We have to get a move on.
Its just that time of year when we push ourselves ahead,
We push ourselves ahead.
4. How do you feel today?
Sleeping in, The Postal Service:
Dont wake me i plan on sleeping in…
5. What is your life’s purpose?
Care for a choro? Sasha (Russian flamenco quitarist I met in Atlanta):
Hmm. No words on this one… I could probably dance to this song though, so my purpose is to dance? Sure, I can live with that.
6. What is your motto?
Luna from Golijov’s Ayre:
Another one with no words. Think that’s a hint?
7. What do your friends think of you?
S’il est un charmant gazon (Liszt), Barbara Bonney & Antonio Pappano:
Read the translation here. I would be beyond happy if my friends said those words to me.
8. What do you think of your parents?
Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk, Rufus Wainwright:
And then there’s those other things
Which for several reasons we wont mention
Everything about ‘em is a little bit stranger…
Umm… pass? This one doesn’t fit...
9. What do you think about very often?
Empty Hearts, Alison Krauss:
Tell me what an empty heart must feel.
10. What does 2+2=
Mojo Pin, Jeff Buckley:
Well it's you I've waited my life to see
It's you I've searched so hard for...
11. What do you think of your best friend?
Pride (In the Name of Love), U2:
(nobody like you...)
12. What do you think of the person you like?
Can we go higher? Nenad Bach:
Higher?
(We can smile at the future)
13. What is your life story?
A mistake, Fiona Apple:
I’m gonna make a mistake-
I’m gonna do it on purpose…
14. What do you want to be when you grow up?
And Hiding Away, The Innocent Mission
Try, catch the thoughts that flap and fly
in the cloudy, tearing sky,
that touch and stir and won't be tied-
and try to speak them.
15. What do you think when you see the person you like?
Completely Pleased, Semisonic:
I want to see you smiling
(It gets a little PG-13-rated after that…)
16. What do your parents think of you?
Either Way, Wilco:
Either you will or you won't
Maybe you just need some time alone
I will try to understand.
17. What will you dance to at your wedding?
Somebody More Like You, Nickel Creek:
hahaha – This is NOT a good first dance song for a wedding!
18. What will they play at your funeral?
Schneckenlied (L. Alexander-Katz), Suzanne Mentzer & Craig Rutenberg:
Snail, snail! Love-Slug,
Into your parlour crawl snug…
Weird.
19. What is your hobby/interest?
Heart in a Cage, The Strokes:
And we gotta laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh
20. What is your biggest secret?
Ricochet in Time, Shawn Colvin:
I crawled up from the sewer
For something that was truer than I intended.
I ended up on my knees in this big city.
I was befriended, I transcended.
21. What do you think of your friends?
Beautiful, Christina Aguilera:
You are beautiful in every single way.
22. What should you post this as?
The Girl From Ipanema, João Gilberto & Stan Getz
On and off
In tonight’s Figaro, I had both a big “oops” moment and a big “wow, this is awesome” moment. Sometimes you’re on, sometimes you’re off, sometimes even in the same show.
For my first recit in the wedding scene, when presenting the flowers to the Countess, I heard the chord in the harpsichord and just plain didn’t know what my note was supposed to be. I started high, but still in the key, and found my way back to the correct melody by the third word or so. But whooboy!! was that a scary split second! Kim, that’s truly where the improv opera came in handy!
The rest of the scene was fine; fun, even. The Act came to an end and I went back on for the aria, looking for the dang pin. (Side note: on Saturday, when I came into the scene to start looking, what should I see on the floor in front of me but an actual bobby pin! I thought, “Oh! here it is! No need to sing the aria, Maestro!”) I finished up, and we started the recit in which Figaro chides Barbarina for playing these grown up games all too well. We never do the scene exactly the same way twice, and today it was particularly fun.
Bryn usually lifts me by my arm off the floor, where I am crouched looking for – what else? – the pin. But today, I was in a bit of a different position, and he essentially grabbed me by the scruff of my neck! Like a cat, as JB said. He is a master of physicality onstage, so he never hurts me; but this was so different and unexpected that I think I squealed! When it was finally time to say my next line (“What? Are you mad at me?!”), I know that the pitches were approximate, ‘cuz I was speaking/singing as if I were getting picked on my big brother, which, in fact, was kind of what was happening. It was a little whiny, a little pouty, very like a little brat who’d gotten herself in a tricky spot. (Did anyone happen to record tonight’s Sirius broadcast? I’d love to hear it, if you did.)
The moment is hard to describe, but the whole scene was so much fun, as it always is. I never know when Bryn is going to actually let me have the pin that he’s holding; we play keep-away until he gives it up. We are six shows into this run, and every night I learn something new about my character, every night we all make things new. I am thrilled that I’m becoming comfortable enough with recit and Italian that I can “play” like this in performance. I only get two chances with Susanna in February, so I’m going to need to be ready. Ready to play!
For my first recit in the wedding scene, when presenting the flowers to the Countess, I heard the chord in the harpsichord and just plain didn’t know what my note was supposed to be. I started high, but still in the key, and found my way back to the correct melody by the third word or so. But whooboy!! was that a scary split second! Kim, that’s truly where the improv opera came in handy!
The rest of the scene was fine; fun, even. The Act came to an end and I went back on for the aria, looking for the dang pin. (Side note: on Saturday, when I came into the scene to start looking, what should I see on the floor in front of me but an actual bobby pin! I thought, “Oh! here it is! No need to sing the aria, Maestro!”) I finished up, and we started the recit in which Figaro chides Barbarina for playing these grown up games all too well. We never do the scene exactly the same way twice, and today it was particularly fun.
Bryn usually lifts me by my arm off the floor, where I am crouched looking for – what else? – the pin. But today, I was in a bit of a different position, and he essentially grabbed me by the scruff of my neck! Like a cat, as JB said. He is a master of physicality onstage, so he never hurts me; but this was so different and unexpected that I think I squealed! When it was finally time to say my next line (“What? Are you mad at me?!”), I know that the pitches were approximate, ‘cuz I was speaking/singing as if I were getting picked on my big brother, which, in fact, was kind of what was happening. It was a little whiny, a little pouty, very like a little brat who’d gotten herself in a tricky spot. (Did anyone happen to record tonight’s Sirius broadcast? I’d love to hear it, if you did.)
The moment is hard to describe, but the whole scene was so much fun, as it always is. I never know when Bryn is going to actually let me have the pin that he’s holding; we play keep-away until he gives it up. We are six shows into this run, and every night I learn something new about my character, every night we all make things new. I am thrilled that I’m becoming comfortable enough with recit and Italian that I can “play” like this in performance. I only get two chances with Susanna in February, so I’m going to need to be ready. Ready to play!
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Reason #51 Not To Procrastinate
Because you may wake up of a morning and discover that the audition you thought was tomorrow is actually today, and now you have two hours to learn all those lines instead of the whole day!
Oh boy, what a morning. I woke up to my alarm (which was already going off at a lovely, late, “I am an artiste” hour), reset said alarm for an hour later, and promptly hit the pillow again. Shortly after, my phone rang, but as I didn’t recognize the number, I ignored the call. But my sleepy brain started to pull a memory of another missed call out of the ether, and I realized that I did, in fact, recognize the number: it was that of the casting agency that heard me a couple of weeks ago for an off-Broadway audition! (Remember the Irish accent? That audition. And, no, it’s not Brigadoon…) He was calling to see where I was, since I was 20 minutes late for my scheduled callback.
Yep. Awesome!
I quickly called back, apologized for the mix-up, and asked if they could see me later today. Sure enough, we rescheduled for just about two hours from that moment, so I jumped into action! Shower, warm-up, get dressed*, eat something, print out my newly fashioned Broadway-style resume (which, thank god, I worked up last night with MP’s help!), all while reciting dialogue with myself. It was crazy! Fortunately, the audition was only about ten blocks away, so I didn’t have to factor in a huge chunk of time for travel.
The audition itself seemed so short (they always do!), but it went very well. This time I was singing for the whole creative team – director, music director, choreographer, and two other folks – in addition to the folks from the casting agency. Wonderfully warm and inviting, they made me feel totally at home, even though the Broadway audition is a completely different animal from what I’m used to. More casual, for one; line-readings, two (fun!); and immediate feedback.
* One of the subjects in my moleskine (yes, Marc, I keep a notebook; it’s not cheating, it’s practical! And the fact that I refer to it as “my moleskine” instead of just “my notebook” is especially snobby and writer-y, don’t you think?) is the difference between opera and Broadway audition attire. When first called for this audition, the casting agent said, “Now, you opera folks always dress up for auditions, but this will be really casual; so no cocktail dresses or diamonds.” Ok, so what do I wear to make it look like I didn’t think about what I was wearing?! I settled on my favorite black jeans and a white t-shirt with a light pink corduroy jacket and black boots. It felt strange not to be in a dress, but this was definitely a “me everyday” kind of outfit. I was coming straight from a Figaro matinee, however, so my hair was done up in the fanciest up-do! (I use my own hair, not a wig.) It was kind of silly, but they knew what was up.
At the end of that first audition, when talking about the callback, the director told me to “dress a little younger: wear flats, wear your hair down…” We laughed about the up-do, and I mentioned that, yes, I am “a bit tall.” He said that tall is good (!!), but flats will make me look younger. “You are young,” he said, so I should play that up, especially since this character is in her early-20’s. So, today it was my favorite purple audition dress (simple, flattering) and black flats, minimal jewelry and makeup, and my hair just pulled back a bit with clips.
We played the scene that led into my song (a selection taken from the show), me interacting with a member of the agency who was standing in as my character’s mother. Both in the first audition and today, I was struck by the eye contact we were able to make – and hold! It was real human contact; “acting,” of course, but in a sense, not acting at all. It was awesome.
A round of thank-you’s, and then back into the day! I hadn’t been home for twenty minutes when the agency called – and asked if I could come back tomorrow! Of course, it’s already on my calendar!
Oh boy, what a morning. I woke up to my alarm (which was already going off at a lovely, late, “I am an artiste” hour), reset said alarm for an hour later, and promptly hit the pillow again. Shortly after, my phone rang, but as I didn’t recognize the number, I ignored the call. But my sleepy brain started to pull a memory of another missed call out of the ether, and I realized that I did, in fact, recognize the number: it was that of the casting agency that heard me a couple of weeks ago for an off-Broadway audition! (Remember the Irish accent? That audition. And, no, it’s not Brigadoon…) He was calling to see where I was, since I was 20 minutes late for my scheduled callback.
Yep. Awesome!
I quickly called back, apologized for the mix-up, and asked if they could see me later today. Sure enough, we rescheduled for just about two hours from that moment, so I jumped into action! Shower, warm-up, get dressed*, eat something, print out my newly fashioned Broadway-style resume (which, thank god, I worked up last night with MP’s help!), all while reciting dialogue with myself. It was crazy! Fortunately, the audition was only about ten blocks away, so I didn’t have to factor in a huge chunk of time for travel.
The audition itself seemed so short (they always do!), but it went very well. This time I was singing for the whole creative team – director, music director, choreographer, and two other folks – in addition to the folks from the casting agency. Wonderfully warm and inviting, they made me feel totally at home, even though the Broadway audition is a completely different animal from what I’m used to. More casual, for one; line-readings, two (fun!); and immediate feedback.
* One of the subjects in my moleskine (yes, Marc, I keep a notebook; it’s not cheating, it’s practical! And the fact that I refer to it as “my moleskine” instead of just “my notebook” is especially snobby and writer-y, don’t you think?) is the difference between opera and Broadway audition attire. When first called for this audition, the casting agent said, “Now, you opera folks always dress up for auditions, but this will be really casual; so no cocktail dresses or diamonds.” Ok, so what do I wear to make it look like I didn’t think about what I was wearing?! I settled on my favorite black jeans and a white t-shirt with a light pink corduroy jacket and black boots. It felt strange not to be in a dress, but this was definitely a “me everyday” kind of outfit. I was coming straight from a Figaro matinee, however, so my hair was done up in the fanciest up-do! (I use my own hair, not a wig.) It was kind of silly, but they knew what was up.
At the end of that first audition, when talking about the callback, the director told me to “dress a little younger: wear flats, wear your hair down…” We laughed about the up-do, and I mentioned that, yes, I am “a bit tall.” He said that tall is good (!!), but flats will make me look younger. “You are young,” he said, so I should play that up, especially since this character is in her early-20’s. So, today it was my favorite purple audition dress (simple, flattering) and black flats, minimal jewelry and makeup, and my hair just pulled back a bit with clips.
We played the scene that led into my song (a selection taken from the show), me interacting with a member of the agency who was standing in as my character’s mother. Both in the first audition and today, I was struck by the eye contact we were able to make – and hold! It was real human contact; “acting,” of course, but in a sense, not acting at all. It was awesome.
A round of thank-you’s, and then back into the day! I hadn’t been home for twenty minutes when the agency called – and asked if I could come back tomorrow! Of course, it’s already on my calendar!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
The first
Last night I had my first official Susanna stress dream. I was at rehearsal for Barbarina, with this cast and this conductor, when all of a sudden they were calling me to stage for Susanna! I ran to my bags to pull out my text cheat sheets, and I was followed by TB, a pianist I knew in Santa Fe. He said, “Well, it’s kind of rude to use those, so just hide them in this notebook. If you say it’s your rep book (meaning, the book that has all my audition arias and miscellany in it), people won’t mind.” Umm, ok. That doesn’t really make any sense, but hey, this is a dream!
I kept saying, “But I have two months until I have to sing Susanna! I’m on a good track, right? I’m where I should be in terms of preparation at this point?”
Oh boy.
I kept saying, “But I have two months until I have to sing Susanna! I’m on a good track, right? I’m where I should be in terms of preparation at this point?”
Oh boy.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Retreat
By Wednesday of last week, it appeared that I might have both this Sunday and Monday off, my first consecutive days off since the summer. I talked with M&E on Thanksgiving about possible overnight get-aways here in the area, and when E said something about taking a bath (“in a bathtub that someone else cleaned!”), I knew I needed to get away. (My shower, like everything in my apartment, is tiny: 32x32. I know the dimensions ‘cuz they are printed on the shower floor. Classy.) My schedule was confirmed on Friday, so before show time on Saturday night I had rescheduled my Sunday night dinner-and-shop-talk with a composer and fellow NEC alum and booked myself a room at a bed & breakfast near Poughkeepsie. A room with a whirlpool tub. Oh. Yeah.
I didn’t realize how tired and stressed I was until I sat down on the MetroNorth train and my body started to melt. I had magazines and books, but all I could do was sit there and watch the “Lordly Hudson” hardly flowing outside my window. My cab pulled up to the Inn as the owner was finishing up the outdoor Christmas decorations, and I walked in to the smell of a fire in the fireplace and cookies in the oven. It was perfect, and the melting continued. A two-hour nap, some football, some dinner, an incredible bath, and then ten hours of sleep. Bliss. A fantastic breakfast; some love from Heathrow, the inn’s dog; a shower; and then, in front of a fire to ward off the dampness of the day, I had what was likely my best Figaro study session in months. Amazing what some rest will do for one’s Italian comprehension. (That, and the motivation that comes from being tested on your Susanna recits by a certain baritone currently singing Figaro…)
My moleskine is full of notes for great (brilliant! insightful! witty!) posts, and I’ve had innumerable amazing conversations recently with colleagues and friends that need recounting here, but not tonight. My rehearsal schedule is very light this week, so I hope to write daily. Especially if I can get over to the Mac store and get a new laptop…
Stay tuned!
Confidential to TM: the semi-colons in this post are for you.
I didn’t realize how tired and stressed I was until I sat down on the MetroNorth train and my body started to melt. I had magazines and books, but all I could do was sit there and watch the “Lordly Hudson” hardly flowing outside my window. My cab pulled up to the Inn as the owner was finishing up the outdoor Christmas decorations, and I walked in to the smell of a fire in the fireplace and cookies in the oven. It was perfect, and the melting continued. A two-hour nap, some football, some dinner, an incredible bath, and then ten hours of sleep. Bliss. A fantastic breakfast; some love from Heathrow, the inn’s dog; a shower; and then, in front of a fire to ward off the dampness of the day, I had what was likely my best Figaro study session in months. Amazing what some rest will do for one’s Italian comprehension. (That, and the motivation that comes from being tested on your Susanna recits by a certain baritone currently singing Figaro…)
My moleskine is full of notes for great (brilliant! insightful! witty!) posts, and I’ve had innumerable amazing conversations recently with colleagues and friends that need recounting here, but not tonight. My rehearsal schedule is very light this week, so I hope to write daily. Especially if I can get over to the Mac store and get a new laptop…
Stay tuned!
Confidential to TM: the semi-colons in this post are for you.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Thankful
For new traditions – this was my third Thanksgiving in a row spent with the Brooklyn Birds, sharing cooking duties with E and drinking cosmos. (Ok, while drinking cosmos…).
For nieces and nephews and laughter, especially all together at once.
For my family, my health, and the health of my family.
For wonderful hosts who turn into friends, and who then open their home to you again!
For great conversations with new friends, and for those new friends.
For discovering that old friends are even more special and cool than you thought they were.
For colleagues who are playful onstage and joyful offstage.
For unexpected flowers in the middle of the run (thanks, BD!).
For good books and good music.
For babies and puppies.
For work that keeps me too busy to write.
For potential paths, each one more tantalizing than the last.
For discovery in general, and for new opportunities.
For uncertainty; it sure keeps me on my toes.
For art.
For people who make you smile so much your face hurts.
I am thankful.
For nieces and nephews and laughter, especially all together at once.
For my family, my health, and the health of my family.
For wonderful hosts who turn into friends, and who then open their home to you again!
For great conversations with new friends, and for those new friends.
For discovering that old friends are even more special and cool than you thought they were.
For colleagues who are playful onstage and joyful offstage.
For unexpected flowers in the middle of the run (thanks, BD!).
For good books and good music.
For babies and puppies.
For work that keeps me too busy to write.
For potential paths, each one more tantalizing than the last.
For discovery in general, and for new opportunities.
For uncertainty; it sure keeps me on my toes.
For art.
For people who make you smile so much your face hurts.
I am thankful.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
A dream
Last Saturday felt like a dream, in more ways than one! It was a dream to up on that stage at the curtain call, surrounded by incredible artists (who are all, to a one, fun and fabulous people, too) and hearing the rush of applause from the audience when each of them would enter for their bow. My cheeks hurt from all the smiling!
But it also felt like a dream on Sunday morning, when I woke up and thought, “What happened yesterday?” I had vague memories of seeing Bryn Terfel on a darkened stage; I remembered seeing the Maestro out in the pit (so far away!) with a full house behind him; I kind of remembered singing an aria… But I am not exaggerating when I say that Wednesday night’s performance was full of moments that I just plain did not recall from the first show on Saturday!
At one point, I’m supposed to take off my hat and leave it backstage for G, my dresser, to come collect. As I was getting ready to go on Wednesday, I conferred with her about when, exactly, that was supposed to happen – because I absolutely could not remember. There was zero memory of taking off my hat!! She was pretty sure it happened before my aria, so I said I’d take if off in the very short interlude that I’m offstage after the wedding and before the aria.
So, I go on, sing the recits in the wedding scene (having much more fun and getting a bit more flirty with the Count this time around), exit the stage with Kate (Cherubino), and am met by M, a stage manager, who says, “Bend down.” She then proceeds to take off my hat! Honestly? As far as I know, that didn’t happen on Saturday. Of course it did, but the memory has been completely blacked out, along with the dancing in the wedding scene, and any thing that happened between my dressing room and the stage. It’s just gone.
Why? I usually have the ability to take in a lot of what is going on around me while I’m performing and still stay focused on doing my job. In school productions, I always found my parents in the audience without even trying; my scope was just wide, and I knew their faces well enough to spot them in a crowd without much effort. But on Saturday? That scope, that focus, was so close in, I’m surprised I even saw the audience. There is always a lot going on “behind the scenes” of a show, things other than the stage action, but at the Met, it’s off the charts. In order to make it out alive, I had to tune out all the unnecessary stuff. It’s kind of amazing, really, the brain’s ability to do that…
By Wednesday, I was able to have much more fun, to open my focus a little bit more. This time around, I knew what the orchestra was going to sound like (I didn’t get the chance to sing my aria at the Sitzprobe…), I knew what to expect from the harpsichord and continuo, and I knew my way around the set a little better. I knew where my colleagues were going to be, so I didn’t have to worry about stepping on them like I did with a chorus member during the wedding dance on Saturday! I could relax a bit into my aria, since I knew my way around the stage and I knew when and where and how to connect with the Maestro.
All this, and I had a TINY role!! I can’t imagine how Susanna or the Count or any of them did what they did on Saturday. It’s a testament to their skills as stage creatures, as professionals who thrive under less-than-ideal conditions. A long rehearsal period is a luxury, I’m learning, and these folks know how to get it done under pressure.
In other news, my cold was very short-lived; two days of rest and lots of water and yin qiao knocked it out. My parents have been having a great week in NYC: a fantastic dinner at Telepan before the show on Wednesday (thanks for the rec, JSU!), the NYFOS concert and swank party afterwards, a trip to the American Girl store with the birthday girl (6!), sitting in on ESL classes at a local middle school (Mom) and tiling the Brooklyn Birds’ kitchen (Dad). I’ll meet up with them again tonight, after today’s matinee and an audition at 6. This audition requires some scene reading – in an Irish accent! Fortunately, my dear PM was in town still, and we met up over hot chocolate yesterday to talk soft T’s and closed O’s.
It’s been an intense few weeks around here, but I wouldn’t change a bit of it. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
PS: This is my 500th post! What's the gift for 500?
But it also felt like a dream on Sunday morning, when I woke up and thought, “What happened yesterday?” I had vague memories of seeing Bryn Terfel on a darkened stage; I remembered seeing the Maestro out in the pit (so far away!) with a full house behind him; I kind of remembered singing an aria… But I am not exaggerating when I say that Wednesday night’s performance was full of moments that I just plain did not recall from the first show on Saturday!
At one point, I’m supposed to take off my hat and leave it backstage for G, my dresser, to come collect. As I was getting ready to go on Wednesday, I conferred with her about when, exactly, that was supposed to happen – because I absolutely could not remember. There was zero memory of taking off my hat!! She was pretty sure it happened before my aria, so I said I’d take if off in the very short interlude that I’m offstage after the wedding and before the aria.
So, I go on, sing the recits in the wedding scene (having much more fun and getting a bit more flirty with the Count this time around), exit the stage with Kate (Cherubino), and am met by M, a stage manager, who says, “Bend down.” She then proceeds to take off my hat! Honestly? As far as I know, that didn’t happen on Saturday. Of course it did, but the memory has been completely blacked out, along with the dancing in the wedding scene, and any thing that happened between my dressing room and the stage. It’s just gone.
Why? I usually have the ability to take in a lot of what is going on around me while I’m performing and still stay focused on doing my job. In school productions, I always found my parents in the audience without even trying; my scope was just wide, and I knew their faces well enough to spot them in a crowd without much effort. But on Saturday? That scope, that focus, was so close in, I’m surprised I even saw the audience. There is always a lot going on “behind the scenes” of a show, things other than the stage action, but at the Met, it’s off the charts. In order to make it out alive, I had to tune out all the unnecessary stuff. It’s kind of amazing, really, the brain’s ability to do that…
By Wednesday, I was able to have much more fun, to open my focus a little bit more. This time around, I knew what the orchestra was going to sound like (I didn’t get the chance to sing my aria at the Sitzprobe…), I knew what to expect from the harpsichord and continuo, and I knew my way around the set a little better. I knew where my colleagues were going to be, so I didn’t have to worry about stepping on them like I did with a chorus member during the wedding dance on Saturday! I could relax a bit into my aria, since I knew my way around the stage and I knew when and where and how to connect with the Maestro.
All this, and I had a TINY role!! I can’t imagine how Susanna or the Count or any of them did what they did on Saturday. It’s a testament to their skills as stage creatures, as professionals who thrive under less-than-ideal conditions. A long rehearsal period is a luxury, I’m learning, and these folks know how to get it done under pressure.
In other news, my cold was very short-lived; two days of rest and lots of water and yin qiao knocked it out. My parents have been having a great week in NYC: a fantastic dinner at Telepan before the show on Wednesday (thanks for the rec, JSU!), the NYFOS concert and swank party afterwards, a trip to the American Girl store with the birthday girl (6!), sitting in on ESL classes at a local middle school (Mom) and tiling the Brooklyn Birds’ kitchen (Dad). I’ll meet up with them again tonight, after today’s matinee and an audition at 6. This audition requires some scene reading – in an Irish accent! Fortunately, my dear PM was in town still, and we met up over hot chocolate yesterday to talk soft T’s and closed O’s.
It’s been an intense few weeks around here, but I wouldn’t change a bit of it. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
PS: This is my 500th post! What's the gift for 500?
Met Blog: Iphigenie
While I'm finally getting myself together to write about this week, occupy yourself with the chronicling of Iphigenie rehearsals over on the MetBlog.
I have an hour or so before I need to leave for this afternoon's Figaro, so I'm setting myself down to write!
I have an hour or so before I need to leave for this afternoon's Figaro, so I'm setting myself down to write!
Monday, November 12, 2007
Shell-shocked
That’s how I’ve felt for the past couple of days, hence the delay in getting any kind of Barbarina-recap up! I’m home today with swollen tonsils, as my body has finally said “enough!!” after a very busy and stressful few weeks. The white spots that were there yesterday are gone, though, thanks to a heavy dosing of yin qiao, the Chinese medicine that is beloved of singers for this very reason. It tastes like dirt but it really seems to kill those nasty bugs. I expect to be back up and running tomorrow.
I’ll get a recap of Saturday up this afternoon or evening, depending on my nap schedule… Thanks for all your good wishes and congratulations!
I’ll get a recap of Saturday up this afternoon or evening, depending on my nap schedule… Thanks for all your good wishes and congratulations!
Friday, November 09, 2007
Too much
I think there just must be too much in my head, too many wonderful things I want to write about, and they are all jumbled up and causing a backlog… Let me see if I can’t get some of the awesomeness of the last few days out this morning.
Wednesday night I got to be an audience member for once, and I took in a lovely Traviata with BD. Our seats (his season ticket seats) were just perfect, and I got to take him on a bit of a “VIP / guest of a Met artist” tour during the first intermission. It was fun to get to know him a bit more, this lover of opera, and of course we rubbed elbows with blog buddies during the second intermission.
The night got even better as I came out into the cold (finally!) night air and started to walk home. I have a slightly obsessive habit of checking my email on my phone, and before I was past the fountain in the middle of Lincoln Center plaza, I had opened a very unexpected email from the Sullivan Foundation: “Congratulations!” Are you kidding?!?!? I think I let out an shriek of some kind, startling the opera patrons filing past me, and I ducked under the State Theater overhang to collect myself – and lean against a wall before I fell down!
I called my parents, and was able to share the news through tears. When they are in town next week to see Figaro, we’ll be going out for a fancy New York dinner to celebrate – my treat! Any suggestions?
There’s more, of course: the ups and downs of this weeks rehearsals, lunch with certain baritones whose initials are SK and BT, learning that two of my favorite colleagues (LW & MW, no relation) also won Sullivan awards… it’s just been a dream. I wish I could capture the sweetly awkward conversations I had with both of them yesterday. When you win a competition, it’s so hard to inquire about your friends; there’s no easy way to say, “I won a Sullivan grant! Did you?” We approached each other (in both cases) hopeful that the other had won, but worried about hurt feelings or disappointment. “Um, did you hear…” “Uh-huh, did you?” “Yeah, um…” “Did you…?” “Yeah. Did you?” “YES!!!” There was lots of shrieking and hugging and jumping up and down. I somehow enjoyed my win even more when I knew I was in such good company.
I’m almost late, as always, so I’ll write more later! Lots of thoughts on tomorrow’s excitement…
Wednesday night I got to be an audience member for once, and I took in a lovely Traviata with BD. Our seats (his season ticket seats) were just perfect, and I got to take him on a bit of a “VIP / guest of a Met artist” tour during the first intermission. It was fun to get to know him a bit more, this lover of opera, and of course we rubbed elbows with blog buddies during the second intermission.
The night got even better as I came out into the cold (finally!) night air and started to walk home. I have a slightly obsessive habit of checking my email on my phone, and before I was past the fountain in the middle of Lincoln Center plaza, I had opened a very unexpected email from the Sullivan Foundation: “Congratulations!” Are you kidding?!?!? I think I let out an shriek of some kind, startling the opera patrons filing past me, and I ducked under the State Theater overhang to collect myself – and lean against a wall before I fell down!
I called my parents, and was able to share the news through tears. When they are in town next week to see Figaro, we’ll be going out for a fancy New York dinner to celebrate – my treat! Any suggestions?
There’s more, of course: the ups and downs of this weeks rehearsals, lunch with certain baritones whose initials are SK and BT, learning that two of my favorite colleagues (LW & MW, no relation) also won Sullivan awards… it’s just been a dream. I wish I could capture the sweetly awkward conversations I had with both of them yesterday. When you win a competition, it’s so hard to inquire about your friends; there’s no easy way to say, “I won a Sullivan grant! Did you?” We approached each other (in both cases) hopeful that the other had won, but worried about hurt feelings or disappointment. “Um, did you hear…” “Uh-huh, did you?” “Yeah, um…” “Did you…?” “Yeah. Did you?” “YES!!!” There was lots of shrieking and hugging and jumping up and down. I somehow enjoyed my win even more when I knew I was in such good company.
I’m almost late, as always, so I’ll write more later! Lots of thoughts on tomorrow’s excitement…
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
The week (not for the weak)
Another week of slightly insane days, but this time the only nighttime activities are fun ones. (Not that rehearsals and performances aren’t fun; they are, but they are also work.) Last night and tonight at home, cooking dinner to relax
Wednesday: Traviata with a generous friend
Thursday: a VIM recital byHeather! and a get-together of Wolf Trappers
Friday: a Wordless Music concert (um, hello? why haven’t I known about this series before this week?!)
The days are filled with running between Iphigenie rehearsals (watching, trying to capture my character’s blocking) and Figaro rehearsals (singing, trying to get my Italian diction a bit more soignée), plus fitting in auditions where ever I can. Today I sang for the Sullivan Foundation again. I was very happy with my performance, but I’m reminding myself that this is a whole new competition this year. Last year’s award far from guarantees a bigger award this year; with a whole new judging panel, it’s anybody’s ballgame. All we can do is our best, and I think I did today.
(I need to give a HUGE thank you to MS, the tireless and sweet woman who organizes the Sullivan competition. I must have called to change my audition time four times, as my rehearsal schedule kept changing last minute! She was so patient and flexible, and I am very grateful. There are lots of good folks in this business, you know?)
All of this leads up, of course, to our first Figaro on Saturday afternoon! It’s a strange rehearsal period. We have, largely, a whole new cast, but since this is the second presentation of this production this season, our rehearsal time is shorter, just about ten days. There will be one orchestra rehearsal (Thursday), one run-through (Friday), and no time on the set or stage. It’s a time to use all our powers of visualization at home in our down time and get the blocking into our bodies and minds that way, rather than running the scenes over and over for weeks. It’s tough, and not a little unsettling, but it’s also an exciting challenge.
Dinner time! Last night’s Moroccan vegetable stew with polenta (my new favorite comfort food) made a great lunch today. Tonight I think I’ll make a fancy salad and pair it with a slice from the Pizzeria across the street… ok, maybe two. A bit of tasty indulgence.
Oh, one more thought: today the director of Figaro told me to go ahead and play Barbarina a bit more grown-up, a little less “cute.” Hooray! She’s still a kid, but my stage personality doesn’t really lend itself to cutesy, so we’re thinking she’s more like 15 rather than 12. I’m imagining her as a slightly younger Meg from Brigadoon…
Wednesday: Traviata with a generous friend
Thursday: a VIM recital byHeather! and a get-together of Wolf Trappers
Friday: a Wordless Music concert (um, hello? why haven’t I known about this series before this week?!)
The days are filled with running between Iphigenie rehearsals (watching, trying to capture my character’s blocking) and Figaro rehearsals (singing, trying to get my Italian diction a bit more soignée), plus fitting in auditions where ever I can. Today I sang for the Sullivan Foundation again. I was very happy with my performance, but I’m reminding myself that this is a whole new competition this year. Last year’s award far from guarantees a bigger award this year; with a whole new judging panel, it’s anybody’s ballgame. All we can do is our best, and I think I did today.
(I need to give a HUGE thank you to MS, the tireless and sweet woman who organizes the Sullivan competition. I must have called to change my audition time four times, as my rehearsal schedule kept changing last minute! She was so patient and flexible, and I am very grateful. There are lots of good folks in this business, you know?)
All of this leads up, of course, to our first Figaro on Saturday afternoon! It’s a strange rehearsal period. We have, largely, a whole new cast, but since this is the second presentation of this production this season, our rehearsal time is shorter, just about ten days. There will be one orchestra rehearsal (Thursday), one run-through (Friday), and no time on the set or stage. It’s a time to use all our powers of visualization at home in our down time and get the blocking into our bodies and minds that way, rather than running the scenes over and over for weeks. It’s tough, and not a little unsettling, but it’s also an exciting challenge.
Dinner time! Last night’s Moroccan vegetable stew with polenta (my new favorite comfort food) made a great lunch today. Tonight I think I’ll make a fancy salad and pair it with a slice from the Pizzeria across the street… ok, maybe two. A bit of tasty indulgence.
Oh, one more thought: today the director of Figaro told me to go ahead and play Barbarina a bit more grown-up, a little less “cute.” Hooray! She’s still a kid, but my stage personality doesn’t really lend itself to cutesy, so we’re thinking she’s more like 15 rather than 12. I’m imagining her as a slightly younger Meg from Brigadoon…
Saturday, November 03, 2007
FriPod: Halloween Plus
Another alteration on the original: since I’m late on this FriPod (as usual), I’m adding Saints and Souls for the days after Halloween.
1. Ghost in this House, Alison Krauss, Forget About It
2. Ghost Train, Counting Crows, August & Everything After
3. Ghost Writing, Neko Case, Blacklisted
4. They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back From the Dead!! Ahhh!, Sufjan (duh), blah blah blah Illinoise
5. Hunting for Witches, Bloc Party, A Weekend in the City
6. This Devil’s Workday, Modest Mouse, Good News For People Who…
7. Old Soul Song (For the New World Order), Bright Eyes, I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning
8. Soul Meets Body, Death Cab for Cutie, Plans
9. Life & Soul, The Sundays, Blind
10. At Saint Patrick’s Purgatory, Leontyne Price with Samuel Barber, from Hermit Songs
11. Saint Simon, The Shins, Chutes Too Narrow
12. Saint Augustine in Hell, Sting, Ten Summoner’s Tales
13. Sleeping Bear, Sault Saint Marie, Sujan Stevens, blah blah blah Michigan
And two artists:
Ghostland Observatory
Galactic & Juvenile & Soul Rebels Brass Band
1. Ghost in this House, Alison Krauss, Forget About It
2. Ghost Train, Counting Crows, August & Everything After
3. Ghost Writing, Neko Case, Blacklisted
4. They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back From the Dead!! Ahhh!, Sufjan (duh), blah blah blah Illinoise
5. Hunting for Witches, Bloc Party, A Weekend in the City
6. This Devil’s Workday, Modest Mouse, Good News For People Who…
7. Old Soul Song (For the New World Order), Bright Eyes, I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning
8. Soul Meets Body, Death Cab for Cutie, Plans
9. Life & Soul, The Sundays, Blind
10. At Saint Patrick’s Purgatory, Leontyne Price with Samuel Barber, from Hermit Songs
11. Saint Simon, The Shins, Chutes Too Narrow
12. Saint Augustine in Hell, Sting, Ten Summoner’s Tales
13. Sleeping Bear, Sault Saint Marie, Sujan Stevens, blah blah blah Michigan
And two artists:
Ghostland Observatory
Galactic & Juvenile & Soul Rebels Brass Band
Friday, November 02, 2007
Miscellany for 11/2
Sorry for the quiet times here! It’s been a crazy week. Here are some of the many things I would write more about if I could get my brain to function well enough to write during my downtime.
• Little SB made it through all three hours of The Magic Flute dress rehearsal! She spent most of it on my lap, and there were quite a few whispered conversations about what exactly they were saying up there (it was all in German). My favorite moment was in the Act I quintet: when they ladies had given Tamino his flute, S turned to me and said, “When will Papageno get his magic bells?” She made some friends in the Met cafeteria during intermission (including Richard Stillwell, my step-father from Santa Fe’s Cendrillon, and Arthur, the friendly giant of a stagehand), and is very much looking forward to coming back for Hansel & Gretel.
• The recital with Djordje went very well, despite a very small audience. Judd and I had some good conversations about audience building and programming ideas; more on all that soon. I’ve now got two big program ideas running in my head, one of which will be the perfect “second stage” of the Bhakti Project.
• Lots of conversations about story-telling these days. After last week’s recital, someone made the correlation of recital compared with opera being like a book of short stories versus a novel. I totally agree, 100%. I’ve been kind of collecting quotes and thoughts about story-telling (in my gorgeous new Moleskine!), so I think I’ll turn all of this into it’s own post.
• Last night’s 5 Boroughs Music Festival concert was a smashing success. I’ll write more about the rehearsals for this; we all agreed that Tuesday night’s first run-through of the Brahms was quite possibly the best rehearsal experience of our lives! I also need to write a bit to figure out why I stress myself out so completely about my preparation (to the point of tears an hour before the show), only to get on the stage and totally deliver. What is that all about?
• I’ve been in Iphigenie rehearsals all week. I hope the Met Blog does some behind the scenes things for this show, too, because the rehearsal process is fantastic. Great people, great atmosphere, thrilling product, even after a week of rehearsal. Very, very exciting.
• But you know what’s even more exciting? Tomorrow I get to sing Barbarina! We have our first musical rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and even though I am thoroughly exhausted, I am positively giddy. And, yes, “Elvis” is in the building… I’m a little giddy about that, too!
More soon! Today and tomorrow are also long, full (deliciously full) days, and Sunday I will be a blob on the couch watching the Colts v. Patriots game, but hopefully I’ll get some of these thoughts fleshed out soon. Busy times, fun times!
• Little SB made it through all three hours of The Magic Flute dress rehearsal! She spent most of it on my lap, and there were quite a few whispered conversations about what exactly they were saying up there (it was all in German). My favorite moment was in the Act I quintet: when they ladies had given Tamino his flute, S turned to me and said, “When will Papageno get his magic bells?” She made some friends in the Met cafeteria during intermission (including Richard Stillwell, my step-father from Santa Fe’s Cendrillon, and Arthur, the friendly giant of a stagehand), and is very much looking forward to coming back for Hansel & Gretel.
• The recital with Djordje went very well, despite a very small audience. Judd and I had some good conversations about audience building and programming ideas; more on all that soon. I’ve now got two big program ideas running in my head, one of which will be the perfect “second stage” of the Bhakti Project.
• Lots of conversations about story-telling these days. After last week’s recital, someone made the correlation of recital compared with opera being like a book of short stories versus a novel. I totally agree, 100%. I’ve been kind of collecting quotes and thoughts about story-telling (in my gorgeous new Moleskine!), so I think I’ll turn all of this into it’s own post.
• Last night’s 5 Boroughs Music Festival concert was a smashing success. I’ll write more about the rehearsals for this; we all agreed that Tuesday night’s first run-through of the Brahms was quite possibly the best rehearsal experience of our lives! I also need to write a bit to figure out why I stress myself out so completely about my preparation (to the point of tears an hour before the show), only to get on the stage and totally deliver. What is that all about?
• I’ve been in Iphigenie rehearsals all week. I hope the Met Blog does some behind the scenes things for this show, too, because the rehearsal process is fantastic. Great people, great atmosphere, thrilling product, even after a week of rehearsal. Very, very exciting.
• But you know what’s even more exciting? Tomorrow I get to sing Barbarina! We have our first musical rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and even though I am thoroughly exhausted, I am positively giddy. And, yes, “Elvis” is in the building… I’m a little giddy about that, too!
More soon! Today and tomorrow are also long, full (deliciously full) days, and Sunday I will be a blob on the couch watching the Colts v. Patriots game, but hopefully I’ll get some of these thoughts fleshed out soon. Busy times, fun times!
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