Yesterday’s lesson from our recital rehearsals - maybe even the week’s lesson – was this:
“That’s what he wrote, but that’s not what he meant.”
I don’t remember which song Steve said it about (maybe the Berlin duet), but this idea seems to be an over-arching theme this week. What is rhythmic vs. what is musical? What is accurate vs. what is stylistically right? Fine lines, lots of gray…
A lot of songs on this program aren’t “classical art songs,” so they shouldn’t be sung as such. There’s a freedom implicit in styles like musical theater and jazz that we as classical performers might have trouble wrapping our heads – and voices! – around. The four of us are getting there, but it’s hard to soften years of rigid accuracy overnight. The fact that we get to dance our way through rehearsals is helping! Well, at least I’m dancing… can’t seem to get anyone to join me yet…
I’ve been thinking a lot about this idea of “rhythmic integrity” and how its definition changes from genre to genre. The rhythms of my Ricky Ian Gordon song are fairly particular, at least on the page, and I spent a good amount of time subdividing the beats and making sure I was getting them exactly right. “One and two ee and-tie and four and” And, well, it sure sounded correct! The notes were right (mostly), but the feeling of the piece was all wrong. We found the same to be true with the Berlin, the Sondheim, the list goes on.
Today, as always, I think, contemporary composers are being influenced by non-classical genres: RIG, Musto, et al, have jazz; Golijov, klezmer & flamenco; Greenstein, Muhly, et al, pop and rock styles (cough Radiohead cough). These elements color their musics beautifully and make them the exciting modern pieces that we all get jazzed up about (no pun intended). The difficulty comes in how to translate the freedom of those influencing genres onto those five little lines we call the staff. Performers are trained to read the music, to recreate it as written on the page. So composers put down some semblance of the idea on the staff, using 8th’s and 16th’s and ties and dots. Then the difficulty for us performers comes in how to recreate not only the notes on the page but also the stylistic ideas behind the notes. We have to make it “swing.”
This is why I think it’s so important to keep listening to other genres. Anytime I hear a singer say that they don’t listen to pop music (or jazz or indie rock or what have you), I die a little inside. Loosen up! Some day it’s going to be required of you in a “classical” context; will you have anything to pull from?
**Be sure to read DJA's great additions to this conversation in the Comments.**
Showing posts with label Golijov. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Golijov. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Two for one
More on that analogy – I’ve been meaning to expound on the “vomit breath” analogy, and a recent comment to the post has given me impetus to do so. I had a voice lesson shortly after the coaching which presented the analogy, and I asked Mark what his thoughts were on the concept.
His thought is that there can (and often should) be both an “in and up” and a “down and out” feeling in the abdominal area, as if the two are working “against” each other. You know that force you feel when you push two positive or two negative magnetic poles together? The feeling in the abdomen isn’t one of resisting, exactly, but more like stability. Ideally what you’ll create with this idea is a solid foundation for the column of air, with an occasional boost from an “up” or “down” support for various attacks, approaches, or articulations.
Ok, did that make any sense at all?! (By the way, this “magnet” image is mine, building on what Mark has taught me about support. Don’t call him up and say “I’d like to have a lesson and focus on magnet support;” he’ll probably have no idea what you’re talking about!) Sorry if this isn’t terribly clear; I’m still learning how to put these esoteric vocal technique concepts into words.
As for the commentor’s suggestion that a vomitous analogy “ignores the Art of communicating musically to your audience,” I’m not sure I agree. Singers have to think of all kinds of strange things in order to get our voices to “be musical.” How is an analogy like “pear-shaped tones” any more musical than vomit or magnets? It’s just prettier. The audience doesn’t need to know what goes on in our heads while we sing, so long as the desired result (a well-sung, emotion-filled phrase that touches them) is achieved.
Other thoughts?
OSNY Finals - On Saturday I sang in the Oratorio Society of New York Solo Competition Semi-Finals, and was pleased to learn that I’ll be singing in the Finals! And guess when they are? This Saturday. Yep, the afternoon after my Met debut.
So… I’ll be making a very short appearance (accompanied by the Brooklyn Birds and wearing the beautiful dress) at the Opening Night reception and then heading home to bed. I toyed (very briefly) with the idea of not going to the reception, but while I hope there will be other Opening Nights at the Met, I will only have one debut! Regardless of whether I attend the party or not, it’s going to be really hard to come down and get rested enough to sing well at a 1:30pm concert. A challenge…
One thing I’m very excited about for the Finals is that they have asked me to sing “Lua descolorida,” the gorgeous aria from Osvaldo’s Pasion segun San Marcos. I didn’t sing it in the preliminary round, but wanted to make sure they heard it at some point, so I started with it yesterday. When I announced my selection, I’m pretty sure I heard one of the judges say “Good for you.” After the Golijov, they asked for my Bach aria: “Jauchzet Gott” from Cantata 51. I suspected that they would, as it’s just about as different from the Golijov as you can get! I’ll be singing that on Saturday as well.
The Finals Concert is open to the public (information about tickets here), so if you’re in NYC and free on Saturday, come on out! It’s as Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie, so I guess one could say that I’m making my Met debut and my Carnegie Hall debut in the same weekend. How ‘bout that… deep breath, Bird!
Edited to add: I took a closer look at that link for tickets, and it really doesn’t say much. Tickets will be on sale ($20) at 12:30 on the day of the concert, April 21st, at the Weill box office. The concert begins at 1:30, and I’ll be second on the program.
His thought is that there can (and often should) be both an “in and up” and a “down and out” feeling in the abdominal area, as if the two are working “against” each other. You know that force you feel when you push two positive or two negative magnetic poles together? The feeling in the abdomen isn’t one of resisting, exactly, but more like stability. Ideally what you’ll create with this idea is a solid foundation for the column of air, with an occasional boost from an “up” or “down” support for various attacks, approaches, or articulations.
Ok, did that make any sense at all?! (By the way, this “magnet” image is mine, building on what Mark has taught me about support. Don’t call him up and say “I’d like to have a lesson and focus on magnet support;” he’ll probably have no idea what you’re talking about!) Sorry if this isn’t terribly clear; I’m still learning how to put these esoteric vocal technique concepts into words.
As for the commentor’s suggestion that a vomitous analogy “ignores the Art of communicating musically to your audience,” I’m not sure I agree. Singers have to think of all kinds of strange things in order to get our voices to “be musical.” How is an analogy like “pear-shaped tones” any more musical than vomit or magnets? It’s just prettier. The audience doesn’t need to know what goes on in our heads while we sing, so long as the desired result (a well-sung, emotion-filled phrase that touches them) is achieved.
Other thoughts?
OSNY Finals - On Saturday I sang in the Oratorio Society of New York Solo Competition Semi-Finals, and was pleased to learn that I’ll be singing in the Finals! And guess when they are? This Saturday. Yep, the afternoon after my Met debut.
So… I’ll be making a very short appearance (accompanied by the Brooklyn Birds and wearing the beautiful dress) at the Opening Night reception and then heading home to bed. I toyed (very briefly) with the idea of not going to the reception, but while I hope there will be other Opening Nights at the Met, I will only have one debut! Regardless of whether I attend the party or not, it’s going to be really hard to come down and get rested enough to sing well at a 1:30pm concert. A challenge…
One thing I’m very excited about for the Finals is that they have asked me to sing “Lua descolorida,” the gorgeous aria from Osvaldo’s Pasion segun San Marcos. I didn’t sing it in the preliminary round, but wanted to make sure they heard it at some point, so I started with it yesterday. When I announced my selection, I’m pretty sure I heard one of the judges say “Good for you.” After the Golijov, they asked for my Bach aria: “Jauchzet Gott” from Cantata 51. I suspected that they would, as it’s just about as different from the Golijov as you can get! I’ll be singing that on Saturday as well.
The Finals Concert is open to the public (information about tickets here), so if you’re in NYC and free on Saturday, come on out! It’s as Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie, so I guess one could say that I’m making my Met debut and my Carnegie Hall debut in the same weekend. How ‘bout that… deep breath, Bird!
Edited to add: I took a closer look at that link for tickets, and it really doesn’t say much. Tickets will be on sale ($20) at 12:30 on the day of the concert, April 21st, at the Weill box office. The concert begins at 1:30, and I’ll be second on the program.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Re: those new words
Ainadamar is no longer a Grammy Award-nominated CD: It's a Grammy Winner!!
That's a bit of a boost for the winter doldrums, eh? I've been told that I should get a certificate, which, should I ever have a wall big enough to hang things on, I will proudly frame and display.
Wish I could raise a glass to celebrate with my colleagues on the recording. I imagine we are all spread far and wide at the moment, but today you've all been close to my heart. "Ay, que dia!!"
(Read about the recording sessions (from my limited perspective) here, here, and here.)
That's a bit of a boost for the winter doldrums, eh? I've been told that I should get a certificate, which, should I ever have a wall big enough to hang things on, I will proudly frame and display.
Wish I could raise a glass to celebrate with my colleagues on the recording. I imagine we are all spread far and wide at the moment, but today you've all been close to my heart. "Ay, que dia!!"
(Read about the recording sessions (from my limited perspective) here, here, and here.)
Friday, December 08, 2006
New words for the bio
Two new words: Grammy-nominated. (Or does the hyphen technically make it one word?)
Osvaldo Golijov’s Ainadamar was nominated in two categories – Best Opera Recording and Best Classical Contemporary Composition. The producer of the album, Sid McLauchlan, is also nominated for Producer of the Year, Classical.
I’m not considered a “principal soloist,” so I wouldn’t receive a Grammy if it wins. But my bio will now read “…can be heard on the Grammy-nominated recording of Ainadamar, released in May 2006.” Or, maybe, come February 11, “… Grammy-award-winning…”
I’d better call Mr. Mouret or Ms. Herrera and start talking about my gown…
Osvaldo Golijov’s Ainadamar was nominated in two categories – Best Opera Recording and Best Classical Contemporary Composition. The producer of the album, Sid McLauchlan, is also nominated for Producer of the Year, Classical.
I’m not considered a “principal soloist,” so I wouldn’t receive a Grammy if it wins. But my bio will now read “…can be heard on the Grammy-nominated recording of Ainadamar, released in May 2006.” Or, maybe, come February 11, “… Grammy-award-winning…”
I’d better call Mr. Mouret or Ms. Herrera and start talking about my gown…
Thursday, January 19, 2006
More Golijov links
With an article in Newsday this week and one in the Economist last week, Osvaldo Golijov has officially reached the mainstream. (And by "mainstream," I mean the non-music world. I don't, of course, mean "middle-America." If only.)
If you are in New York City (or nearby) and you haven’t gotten your tickets for the Lincoln Center Passion of Osvaldo Golijov, you’d better hurry.
Update 1/23: Even before this article hit doorsteps on Sunday morning, all three performances of Ainadamar were completely sold out.
If you are in New York City (or nearby) and you haven’t gotten your tickets for the Lincoln Center Passion of Osvaldo Golijov, you’d better hurry.
Update 1/23: Even before this article hit doorsteps on Sunday morning, all three performances of Ainadamar were completely sold out.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
A week in New York
After a week of beautiful weather, it snowed last night and the temperatures dropped down into the twenties. Brrrr!! And this is not “let’s go out and play!” snow. This is just enough snow to make everything a mess, with a wind strong enough to stop you in your tracks and cold enough to take your breath away. Not very original descriptions, I know, but accurate! But, it finally feels like January in New York.
What a week… Ainadamar rehearsals have been going so well that our rehearsal scheduled for tomorrow morning has been cancelled and we only have a three-hour orchestra rehearsal tomorrow. I’m especially glad for that, as my voice is feeling the effects of singing the bright, straight-tonish style that the piece calls for. With my Met call-back audition on Tuesday, I need to try and spend as much timing using my “regular” voice so that it is in top shape. I’m meeting with JD tomorrow (who finally revealed to me that she has a blog!! Once I find it, I’ll post a link. UPDATE: I believe her blog is truly anonymous, so I'm going to keep it that way and not "out" her here. Sorry!) for a run-through of our material. We might be adding Zerbinetta to the mix, or at least putting Glitter back in. It all depends on how my voice is feeling and how much flexibility and control of my extension I have.
This production of Ainadamar is largely a repeat of the Santa Fe production: same set, same director, same staging, and largely the same cast. Peter Sellers is tweaking a few things here and there, refining gestures and dramatic intentions. Half of the women in the ensemble are new to the stage, although all of them have had some connection with Ainadamar in the past: two were covers at Santa Fe, one sang in the Atlanta performances and on the recording, and one sang in the performance (of the old version) with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. It’s a cool convergence!
The biggest change is that we now share the stage with a Spanish flamenco singer, or cantaor. Previously, the role of Lorca’s vigilante killer was sung by an operatic tenor imitating the wild style of flamenco. It was a strange and powerful sound, but nothing prepared me for the voice of Jesus Montoya. This is going to sound weird, but in his voice, I hear all the history of the world. When he spits insults at Lorca, it absolutely cuts me to the quick. So much pain. Since Jesus is not an actor, he is joined onstage by the tenor who sang and acted the role in Santa Fe, Alex Richardson. Alex moves through his old blocking, now acting the strongarm to Jesus’s mouthpiece. With Peter’s guidance, the construct works.
It’s also been a week of fabulous social engagements! If I lived here, it would be so tempting to ditch the budding opera career and just become a socialite! On my calendar this week: a book launch party (where we rubbed elbows with a certain American Idol finalist), an insanely enjoyable caberet show in the Village (where I sang a bit of Sondheim), a 30th-birthday party (at the honoree’s brother’s restaurant) for one of my favorite baritones, brunch with a composer (and partner), dinner with a fellow blogger visiting The City, and drinks in a Prohibition-era office-by-day / high-class-gin-joint by night (these day’s it’s allowed to be a bar all day). And that’s not including the several evenings I stayed home from the Tucker Gala or Sweeney Todd or Candy & Dorothy. God, I love this town.
Hopefully I’ll update more than once in the coming week! Stay tuned.
What a week… Ainadamar rehearsals have been going so well that our rehearsal scheduled for tomorrow morning has been cancelled and we only have a three-hour orchestra rehearsal tomorrow. I’m especially glad for that, as my voice is feeling the effects of singing the bright, straight-tonish style that the piece calls for. With my Met call-back audition on Tuesday, I need to try and spend as much timing using my “regular” voice so that it is in top shape. I’m meeting with JD tomorrow (who finally revealed to me that she has a blog!! Once I find it, I’ll post a link. UPDATE: I believe her blog is truly anonymous, so I'm going to keep it that way and not "out" her here. Sorry!) for a run-through of our material. We might be adding Zerbinetta to the mix, or at least putting Glitter back in. It all depends on how my voice is feeling and how much flexibility and control of my extension I have.
This production of Ainadamar is largely a repeat of the Santa Fe production: same set, same director, same staging, and largely the same cast. Peter Sellers is tweaking a few things here and there, refining gestures and dramatic intentions. Half of the women in the ensemble are new to the stage, although all of them have had some connection with Ainadamar in the past: two were covers at Santa Fe, one sang in the Atlanta performances and on the recording, and one sang in the performance (of the old version) with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. It’s a cool convergence!
The biggest change is that we now share the stage with a Spanish flamenco singer, or cantaor. Previously, the role of Lorca’s vigilante killer was sung by an operatic tenor imitating the wild style of flamenco. It was a strange and powerful sound, but nothing prepared me for the voice of Jesus Montoya. This is going to sound weird, but in his voice, I hear all the history of the world. When he spits insults at Lorca, it absolutely cuts me to the quick. So much pain. Since Jesus is not an actor, he is joined onstage by the tenor who sang and acted the role in Santa Fe, Alex Richardson. Alex moves through his old blocking, now acting the strongarm to Jesus’s mouthpiece. With Peter’s guidance, the construct works.
It’s also been a week of fabulous social engagements! If I lived here, it would be so tempting to ditch the budding opera career and just become a socialite! On my calendar this week: a book launch party (where we rubbed elbows with a certain American Idol finalist), an insanely enjoyable caberet show in the Village (where I sang a bit of Sondheim), a 30th-birthday party (at the honoree’s brother’s restaurant) for one of my favorite baritones, brunch with a composer (and partner), dinner with a fellow blogger visiting The City, and drinks in a Prohibition-era office-by-day / high-class-gin-joint by night (these day’s it’s allowed to be a bar all day). And that’s not including the several evenings I stayed home from the Tucker Gala or Sweeney Todd or Candy & Dorothy. God, I love this town.
Hopefully I’ll update more than once in the coming week! Stay tuned.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Once again, into the City
Just a quick note to say I’m here, settled into a great apartment in Chelsea. Only drawback? It’s a 5th floor walk-up! Ouch. My legs will get a great workout these three weeks, what with all the walking I do in the city and all those stairs…
My roommate is also a singer, a mezzo who will be going to Tanglewood this summer. It will be fun to tell stories and let her know what a great time is waiting for her there. So many discoveries. Dawn Upshaw will be on the faculty again this summer, so I’m going to try and introduce them at some point.
Something unexpected with Ainadamar: I’ve been asked to cover the role of Nuria, who is basically the third lead, below Dawn & Kelley’s characters. I’m very excited, even though I highly doubt I’ll be needed. Jessica Rivera, who sang the role at Santa Fe and on the recording, is a beautiful soprano with good habits on- and off-stage; she stays healthy! But I’ll be ready, just in case.
One thing that worries me a bit, though, is that the woman who covered Nuria in Santa Fe, another Apprentice and member of the Ainadamar Ensemble is also here for this production. I want to let her know that I didn’t ask for this cover; in fact, I only discovered it when I saw my name in the Playbill preview! That was a shock. Anyway, I’m trying to decide what to say to my friend in order to create less drama, not more, although there may not be any to begin with! I could just be over-analyzing, as always. Thoughts?
Now I’m off to finally meet face to face with the manager and his team that I have been alluding too for months. Details soon!
My roommate is also a singer, a mezzo who will be going to Tanglewood this summer. It will be fun to tell stories and let her know what a great time is waiting for her there. So many discoveries. Dawn Upshaw will be on the faculty again this summer, so I’m going to try and introduce them at some point.
Something unexpected with Ainadamar: I’ve been asked to cover the role of Nuria, who is basically the third lead, below Dawn & Kelley’s characters. I’m very excited, even though I highly doubt I’ll be needed. Jessica Rivera, who sang the role at Santa Fe and on the recording, is a beautiful soprano with good habits on- and off-stage; she stays healthy! But I’ll be ready, just in case.
One thing that worries me a bit, though, is that the woman who covered Nuria in Santa Fe, another Apprentice and member of the Ainadamar Ensemble is also here for this production. I want to let her know that I didn’t ask for this cover; in fact, I only discovered it when I saw my name in the Playbill preview! That was a shock. Anyway, I’m trying to decide what to say to my friend in order to create less drama, not more, although there may not be any to begin with! I could just be over-analyzing, as always. Thoughts?
Now I’m off to finally meet face to face with the manager and his team that I have been alluding too for months. Details soon!
Monday, November 14, 2005
ASO Part Three
[I reread this the other night, after posting, and realized that there are a lot of style/grammar/format changes that I would like to make. It was obvious to me that I had pieced the post together over several busy days and put it all together backstage with less than my full attention. Rather than change it, though, I'm going to leave it as is, as a reminder of how hard it can be to focus in these situations! Enjoy the bad writing...]
It’s been a wonderful few days of music and family, food and laughs. Busy though, and therefore, little time to post! I made it back to Atlanta with plenty of time to spare before Friday night’s concert. Afterwards, a few of us went to Fuego, an outstanding Spanish tapas restaurant just a few blocks from the hotel. We’ve been going there regularly since our first night here, and by now the waitresses recognize us! The food is good enough to warrant going back nearly every night, and even with another tapas restaurant two blocks down the road, we still keep going to Fuego.
On Friday and Saturday, there was a live band playing: a trio comprised of a Russian flamenco/Brazilian-style guitarist named Sasha, and two percussionists, a Puerto Rican called “Bam-Bam” and a 21-year-old Brazilian hotshot (the adorable Rafael). Bam-Bam is an old friend of Gonzalo, the head percussionist for Ainadamar and all around fabulous musician. It was so fun to watch him get up and jam with the band (only when officially invited, though); even though he’d never worked with them before, the music told them every thing they needed to know in order to work together seamlessly. So cool. Most of the music was more Brazilian than South American (Gonzo is from Venezuela), he was right there. I was even able to persuade him to dance with me a bit. (We had done a bit of salsa dancing in Santa Fe, and I wasn’t about to let him get away from this visit without cutting another rug!)
The performances were also interesting on Friday and Saturday. This is the first opera that I have performed many times and in many different productions. I have performed it now it four productions: the premiere at Tanglewood in 2003, with a student orchestra and Bob Spano; one concert performance with the Los Angeles Philharmonic in 2004 (on my birthday!) with Miguel Harth-Bedoya conducting; the revised version at Santa Fe Opera, again with Miguel; and now, here with the Atlanta Symphony and Bob again at the helm. I am getting to see how a piece changes subtly (revisions notwithstanding) with each new orchestra, conductor, or cast. It’s still the same opera, but each production has a slightly different flavor. Hard to describe, but interesting to observe. I’ll be curious to watch the same affect with other operas that I perform frequently.
My vantage point in this production (far upstage, behind the percussion station, on a raised platform) allowed me to really study the orchestra and all the cool things going on. For example, there were snippets of melody (they’d be called “licks” in pop music; not sure if the same term applies for classical…) that I had heard several times before; they were the ones I usually left rehearsals humming. Being able to watch the orchestra, I could see that each of those melodies was passed around the sections, and it wasn’t simply repeated – it was inverted, fragmented, twisted and turned around, creating snakes of sound and rhythm. And such amazing things in the percussion section: a small gong bowed to create bone-chilling shrieks, the same gong half-submerged in a large bowl of water and gently struck with a marimba mallet, intricate “palmas,” or hand-clapping, passages, and the most beautiful marimba duet.
Many people have said that they feel this piece works better as a concert work, a dramatic oratorio, if you will, than it does as a staged opera. I think I agree, if only because the orchestra is so fascinating to watch. This form also allows for a larger chorus, fleshing out the sound of the wailing women in a way that is very powerful. I guess that’s possible in a staged version, too, but in concert, up on risers, the chorus is a bit removed from the action, allowing for a better focus on the heart of the story: Margarita and Lorca.
As I write this, I’m backstage at the evening recording session. And it’s almost time for me to get onstage, so I’ll write about the recording process later. Maybe tomorrow, but maybe not…
It’s been a wonderful few days of music and family, food and laughs. Busy though, and therefore, little time to post! I made it back to Atlanta with plenty of time to spare before Friday night’s concert. Afterwards, a few of us went to Fuego, an outstanding Spanish tapas restaurant just a few blocks from the hotel. We’ve been going there regularly since our first night here, and by now the waitresses recognize us! The food is good enough to warrant going back nearly every night, and even with another tapas restaurant two blocks down the road, we still keep going to Fuego.
On Friday and Saturday, there was a live band playing: a trio comprised of a Russian flamenco/Brazilian-style guitarist named Sasha, and two percussionists, a Puerto Rican called “Bam-Bam” and a 21-year-old Brazilian hotshot (the adorable Rafael). Bam-Bam is an old friend of Gonzalo, the head percussionist for Ainadamar and all around fabulous musician. It was so fun to watch him get up and jam with the band (only when officially invited, though); even though he’d never worked with them before, the music told them every thing they needed to know in order to work together seamlessly. So cool. Most of the music was more Brazilian than South American (Gonzo is from Venezuela), he was right there. I was even able to persuade him to dance with me a bit. (We had done a bit of salsa dancing in Santa Fe, and I wasn’t about to let him get away from this visit without cutting another rug!)
The performances were also interesting on Friday and Saturday. This is the first opera that I have performed many times and in many different productions. I have performed it now it four productions: the premiere at Tanglewood in 2003, with a student orchestra and Bob Spano; one concert performance with the Los Angeles Philharmonic in 2004 (on my birthday!) with Miguel Harth-Bedoya conducting; the revised version at Santa Fe Opera, again with Miguel; and now, here with the Atlanta Symphony and Bob again at the helm. I am getting to see how a piece changes subtly (revisions notwithstanding) with each new orchestra, conductor, or cast. It’s still the same opera, but each production has a slightly different flavor. Hard to describe, but interesting to observe. I’ll be curious to watch the same affect with other operas that I perform frequently.
My vantage point in this production (far upstage, behind the percussion station, on a raised platform) allowed me to really study the orchestra and all the cool things going on. For example, there were snippets of melody (they’d be called “licks” in pop music; not sure if the same term applies for classical…) that I had heard several times before; they were the ones I usually left rehearsals humming. Being able to watch the orchestra, I could see that each of those melodies was passed around the sections, and it wasn’t simply repeated – it was inverted, fragmented, twisted and turned around, creating snakes of sound and rhythm. And such amazing things in the percussion section: a small gong bowed to create bone-chilling shrieks, the same gong half-submerged in a large bowl of water and gently struck with a marimba mallet, intricate “palmas,” or hand-clapping, passages, and the most beautiful marimba duet.
Many people have said that they feel this piece works better as a concert work, a dramatic oratorio, if you will, than it does as a staged opera. I think I agree, if only because the orchestra is so fascinating to watch. This form also allows for a larger chorus, fleshing out the sound of the wailing women in a way that is very powerful. I guess that’s possible in a staged version, too, but in concert, up on risers, the chorus is a bit removed from the action, allowing for a better focus on the heart of the story: Margarita and Lorca.
As I write this, I’m backstage at the evening recording session. And it’s almost time for me to get onstage, so I’ll write about the recording process later. Maybe tomorrow, but maybe not…
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Off to Atlanta
I’m taking a break from packing for my ten-day trip to Atlanta. Well, in truth, I haven’t really started yet. But I’m in that middle area between doing all the things I need to do in order to start packing – laundry, house-cleaning, etc. – and packing. I hate packing… And it’s one of those things that can take as much time as you have for it, like writing a paper in school. If you have two weeks, you can stretch it out to take two weeks. If you’ve put it off and put it off and all of a sudden it’s Saturday and it’s due Monday... you can get it done in two days. So, I’ve learned that I am often better served by not starting the packing process too early. Otherwise I make mental lists and put together coordinating clothes all day long, drawing out the stress. This time I’m going to start packing after dinner. We’ll see if that works out any better…
Tomorrow I fly to Atlanta, where I’ll be met by someone from the Symphony who will take me to the hotel. About an hour after I arrive, we have our first rehearsal! I can’t wait to meet the women who will be singing in the ensemble (members of the ASO chorus). There has been talk of an “official wine” of Ainadamar Week at ASO, and also of “initiation rituals” in order to become an official “Rhumba Girl” and honorary member of the ASO chorus. I think the initiation and the wine are closely connected, but I can’t be sure. Sounds like a fun group!
In between the performances and the recording, we have a two days off. I’m planning to spend both in Athens with my grandparents and other family; we’re going to have an early Thanksgiving on Sunday! Good Southern dishes like squash casserole, candied yams, and Mamma’s amazing stuffing will likely tempt me to put aside my mantle of vegetarianism for the day. Hey, you only live once, and you only get to eat your Mamma’s cooking every few years or so. I can’t wait.
Another part of my trip that I’m really looking forward to is visiting my alma mater, the University of Georgia. I contacted some of my teachers and the head of the voice department to let them know I was coming to town, and I offered to stop by a class or two to visit with current students. Next thing I know, I’m scheduled to do a Q&A with the Opera Ensemble, covering life after undergrad, auditions, resumes & headshots, career paths, etc., and a full-on masterclass with the voice department! I am really excited. I’ve done masterclasses before, on the high school level, and the teacher in me enjoys the setting. I’m a bit nervous to teach in front of my old teachers, though! I’m sure it will be fun, and hopefully a good experience for all involved.
Oh, and I’m doing some singing… There is also a side trip to Philadelphia planned; more on that later. Time now for dinner, and then packing. Unless I can find some other way to put it off.
N.B. to rb: If you do, as I suspect, live near Athens or Atlanta, I would love to try and get together for coffee. Drop me a line…
Tomorrow I fly to Atlanta, where I’ll be met by someone from the Symphony who will take me to the hotel. About an hour after I arrive, we have our first rehearsal! I can’t wait to meet the women who will be singing in the ensemble (members of the ASO chorus). There has been talk of an “official wine” of Ainadamar Week at ASO, and also of “initiation rituals” in order to become an official “Rhumba Girl” and honorary member of the ASO chorus. I think the initiation and the wine are closely connected, but I can’t be sure. Sounds like a fun group!
In between the performances and the recording, we have a two days off. I’m planning to spend both in Athens with my grandparents and other family; we’re going to have an early Thanksgiving on Sunday! Good Southern dishes like squash casserole, candied yams, and Mamma’s amazing stuffing will likely tempt me to put aside my mantle of vegetarianism for the day. Hey, you only live once, and you only get to eat your Mamma’s cooking every few years or so. I can’t wait.
Another part of my trip that I’m really looking forward to is visiting my alma mater, the University of Georgia. I contacted some of my teachers and the head of the voice department to let them know I was coming to town, and I offered to stop by a class or two to visit with current students. Next thing I know, I’m scheduled to do a Q&A with the Opera Ensemble, covering life after undergrad, auditions, resumes & headshots, career paths, etc., and a full-on masterclass with the voice department! I am really excited. I’ve done masterclasses before, on the high school level, and the teacher in me enjoys the setting. I’m a bit nervous to teach in front of my old teachers, though! I’m sure it will be fun, and hopefully a good experience for all involved.
Oh, and I’m doing some singing… There is also a side trip to Philadelphia planned; more on that later. Time now for dinner, and then packing. Unless I can find some other way to put it off.
N.B. to rb: If you do, as I suspect, live near Athens or Atlanta, I would love to try and get together for coffee. Drop me a line…
Monday, October 31, 2005
Golijov links
My father saw Ainadamar this summer, and, well, he didn’t love it. He certainly wasn’t alone; a piece like that is bound to get mixed reviews. I do not fault him in any way, but I think he was afraid to tell me he didn’t like it! It can be hard to tell someone that you’re just not that into something they love (and I do love this piece). But music is subjuctive, and I am comfortable with that.
It stands to reason, then, that he was nervous about La Pasion. He and Mom are planning to come to the London performance, using it as an excuse to finally get back to Germany (where we lived for three years and where they still have good friends). I know it is a father’s job to come to a child’s performances and clap and be proud, whether he likes it or not, but it is much more enjoyable for all involved when he does like it! So imagine his relief when he (finally) listened to the CD of La Pasion that I leant him this summer – and loved it! He liked the Latin musical influences, and appreciated the folk song elements. Here’s what he had to say about that: I found the use of folk themes appropriate, as I know JSB was influenced by German folk music - it's just that we have heard it played by 60-piece orchestras so long that we call it classical. How cool is that!! My dad, the musicologist. I love it.
(La Pasion segun San Marcos was commissioned by the International Bach Academy in Stuttgart to celebrate the 250th Anniversary of Bach’s death. Four composers – Osvaldo, Tan Dun, Wolfgang Rihm, and Sofia Gubaidulina – were each commissioned to write a “passion,” a musical setting of the story of Christ’s arrest and crucifixion. I’ve only heard Osvaldo’s, but imagine it was a fascinating series of concerts, hearing the way these four people interpreted this ancient story.)
I’m heading off to Atlanta this weekend for three performances and a recording of Ainadamar, so I thought I’d collect a few “Osvaldo links” and post them here. If you don’t have plans to see any of the (many) performances of his works around the country, maybe this will inspire you. There is some great music being created. Dive in!
*************************************
Alex Ross’s article and review of La Pasion, March 2001
A fun account of the West Coast premiere of La Pasion in 2002 from the perspective of one of the string players. I think this gives a bit of insight into what I can expect in February! “Both the Orquesta La Pasión and the Schola Cantorum de Caracas are fantastic, and the difference between them and the stuffy classical musicians (us) is really marked. I'm not saying that one is better than the othe: it's just interesting to watch.” And this: “I feel alive. I haven't felt such energy in a very long time.” How exciting…
Ionarts review of Ainadamar at Santa Fe (see the sidebar for more reviews, including articles from The New Yorker and the Washington Post.)
Review of Osvaldo’s newest (?) work, Ayre, performed in San Francisco by Dawn Upshaw and the Andalusian Dogs on October 23rd. I really want to sing this piece someday…
Interview with Osvaldo on The World radio program, focusing on Ayre.
And, of course, check out Osvaldo’s own site for articles and reviews of all these works.
It stands to reason, then, that he was nervous about La Pasion. He and Mom are planning to come to the London performance, using it as an excuse to finally get back to Germany (where we lived for three years and where they still have good friends). I know it is a father’s job to come to a child’s performances and clap and be proud, whether he likes it or not, but it is much more enjoyable for all involved when he does like it! So imagine his relief when he (finally) listened to the CD of La Pasion that I leant him this summer – and loved it! He liked the Latin musical influences, and appreciated the folk song elements. Here’s what he had to say about that: I found the use of folk themes appropriate, as I know JSB was influenced by German folk music - it's just that we have heard it played by 60-piece orchestras so long that we call it classical. How cool is that!! My dad, the musicologist. I love it.
(La Pasion segun San Marcos was commissioned by the International Bach Academy in Stuttgart to celebrate the 250th Anniversary of Bach’s death. Four composers – Osvaldo, Tan Dun, Wolfgang Rihm, and Sofia Gubaidulina – were each commissioned to write a “passion,” a musical setting of the story of Christ’s arrest and crucifixion. I’ve only heard Osvaldo’s, but imagine it was a fascinating series of concerts, hearing the way these four people interpreted this ancient story.)
I’m heading off to Atlanta this weekend for three performances and a recording of Ainadamar, so I thought I’d collect a few “Osvaldo links” and post them here. If you don’t have plans to see any of the (many) performances of his works around the country, maybe this will inspire you. There is some great music being created. Dive in!
*************************************
Alex Ross’s article and review of La Pasion, March 2001
A fun account of the West Coast premiere of La Pasion in 2002 from the perspective of one of the string players. I think this gives a bit of insight into what I can expect in February! “Both the Orquesta La Pasión and the Schola Cantorum de Caracas are fantastic, and the difference between them and the stuffy classical musicians (us) is really marked. I'm not saying that one is better than the othe: it's just interesting to watch.” And this: “I feel alive. I haven't felt such energy in a very long time.” How exciting…
Ionarts review of Ainadamar at Santa Fe (see the sidebar for more reviews, including articles from The New Yorker and the Washington Post.)
Review of Osvaldo’s newest (?) work, Ayre, performed in San Francisco by Dawn Upshaw and the Andalusian Dogs on October 23rd. I really want to sing this piece someday…
Interview with Osvaldo on The World radio program, focusing on Ayre.
And, of course, check out Osvaldo’s own site for articles and reviews of all these works.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Political
Tonight we have the second performance of Ainadamar, which opened strongly on Saturday. Charles at Ionarts gave his opinion (can’t really call it a ‘review,’ since he saw a rehearsal and not a performance), along with a collection of links to other reviews. The New York Times review focuses on Osvaldo’s music, while the LA Times writer gets into the socio-political aspects of the piece.
Two years ago, when someone asked me what Ainadamar was about, I would say that it was about Margarita Xirgu, the actress who helped bring Lorca and his plays to prominence, at the moment of her death. She looks back on her life with the young poet and mourns his grisly death.
Now, there is so much more there, and not just because of the musical reshaping the work has undergone. In Peter’s hands, it has become a piece about Fascism, fear, hope, freedom, and the creation and destruction of beauty. All the elements of the former piece are there; we are still witnessing the last three minutes of Margarita’s life. But they are fleshed out – musically and dramatically – to issue a wake-up call. Margarita, who fled Spain for Latin America on the crest of the fascist wave, regrets her choice (or, at least regrets not being able to convince Lorca to come with her). But more than that, she asks us if we will be willing to stand up to the extremists who threaten those with different religious beliefs, those who strive to open the minds of children, or those whose art or lifestyle challenges their idea of “normal.” (Ainadamar’s Bullfighter, Teacher, and Lorca). This line from the LA Times review says a lot: “It is an opera of unfinished business, on the passing on of the knowledge and experience of one generation to the next.” Thousands died along with Lorca that night in Spain; how many more have to die before we can stand up and say “no more”? May our generation be the one to succeed.
Ainadamar ends with a message of hope – there are students who are following the teachers who will “ask the questions.” We are still talking of Lorca and Margarita and their works and his ideas. I am reminded of a line from The Princess Bride, when Wesley tells Buttercup that “Death can not stop True Love; all it can do is delay it for a little while.” The same is true of oppression and Freedom. Freedom will win in the end, no matter how many generations it takes.
This isn’t a political blog, by any means. But my thoughts have been very political throughout this rehearsal process. How many people do you know who talked about moving to Canada or Europe when President Bush won a second term? I certainly did. (Fest contract, anyone?) But now, looking back at this not-too-distant era of fear and oppression, I am challenged to stay. To find the strength to stand up. To help put an end to the climate of fear that we are encouraged to live in. I know I’m just an opera singer, but I will do my part.
I know that I still haven’t written about the rehearsal process, and I’m not sure that I’ll be able to. You get some idea of what it’s been like through this post. The details – scraped knees, lots of tears, incredible bonding with my castmates, and the like – aren’t important. The change of heart is.
Two years ago, when someone asked me what Ainadamar was about, I would say that it was about Margarita Xirgu, the actress who helped bring Lorca and his plays to prominence, at the moment of her death. She looks back on her life with the young poet and mourns his grisly death.
Now, there is so much more there, and not just because of the musical reshaping the work has undergone. In Peter’s hands, it has become a piece about Fascism, fear, hope, freedom, and the creation and destruction of beauty. All the elements of the former piece are there; we are still witnessing the last three minutes of Margarita’s life. But they are fleshed out – musically and dramatically – to issue a wake-up call. Margarita, who fled Spain for Latin America on the crest of the fascist wave, regrets her choice (or, at least regrets not being able to convince Lorca to come with her). But more than that, she asks us if we will be willing to stand up to the extremists who threaten those with different religious beliefs, those who strive to open the minds of children, or those whose art or lifestyle challenges their idea of “normal.” (Ainadamar’s Bullfighter, Teacher, and Lorca). This line from the LA Times review says a lot: “It is an opera of unfinished business, on the passing on of the knowledge and experience of one generation to the next.” Thousands died along with Lorca that night in Spain; how many more have to die before we can stand up and say “no more”? May our generation be the one to succeed.
Ainadamar ends with a message of hope – there are students who are following the teachers who will “ask the questions.” We are still talking of Lorca and Margarita and their works and his ideas. I am reminded of a line from The Princess Bride, when Wesley tells Buttercup that “Death can not stop True Love; all it can do is delay it for a little while.” The same is true of oppression and Freedom. Freedom will win in the end, no matter how many generations it takes.
This isn’t a political blog, by any means. But my thoughts have been very political throughout this rehearsal process. How many people do you know who talked about moving to Canada or Europe when President Bush won a second term? I certainly did. (Fest contract, anyone?) But now, looking back at this not-too-distant era of fear and oppression, I am challenged to stay. To find the strength to stand up. To help put an end to the climate of fear that we are encouraged to live in. I know I’m just an opera singer, but I will do my part.
I know that I still haven’t written about the rehearsal process, and I’m not sure that I’ll be able to. You get some idea of what it’s been like through this post. The details – scraped knees, lots of tears, incredible bonding with my castmates, and the like – aren’t important. The change of heart is.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
This isn’t a post about Ainadamar
I haven’t written about Ainadamar rehearsals for many reasons, not the least of which is that when I have free time I’d rather sleep than blog. But it’s a new production of a new opera, so details should be kept, not necessarily secret, but at least under wraps. So, once we open on Saturday, I’ll write a bit about the production side of things. (Look, too, for opinions on the work from Charles at Ionarts, who was able to sit in on our piano dress rehearsal Monday night. I was so pleased to have the time to meet him for coffee and get to know another music blogger. We talked about (among other things) the changes coming to print journalism via blogging, and I think Ionarts will be a real force in the change for music journalism. A change for the better!)
Another reason I’ve been quiet about the rehearsal process is that I don’t quite have the words to describe what it’s like to work with Peter Sellars. I’m in a bit of a rush at the moment (2nd Grimes performance tonight), so I won’t even try right now. Someday, hopefully next week after things have quieted down a bit, I can sit and find the words. Just know that the entire cast agrees that this production will be a highlight of our careers.
I do want to share two concepts/philosophies/ideas that have been presented to me through Ainadamar. The first is a Buddhist idea Peter shared with us at a rehearsal in which we were particularly tired and feeling flat. He told us about “right livelihood,” the idea that your work (how you make your living) causes no harm, either to others or to yourself. The arts, he reminded us, are some of the few occupations which can be considered as such. Not only do we not destroy anything or cause harm, we create things! Beautiful things! And our work can heal rather than destroy. If you have ever felt rejuvenated or at peace after hearing a piece of music or reading a poem, you have been on the receiving end of the artist’s “right livelihood.” Peter reminded us that we are blessed to come to work everyday knowing that we aren’t subtracting from our karmic balance.
The other idea was first presented to me at Tanglewood in 2003, when we gave the first premiere of Ainadamar. Osvaldo talked about duende, an idea about which I only got the vaguest hint of its meaning. I knew it was good, that Lorca liked it, and that it was a fleeting thing that could either be present or not. After a dress rehearsal, Bob Spano, our conductor, said to me (regarding my dance solos in the piece), “You know why that was so good this time? You had duende,!” I said “thank you,” of course, but I was too shy to admit that I really had no idea what he was talking about.
So, when I saw the book "In Search of Duende,” – a selection of Lorca's prose writings and poetry on the subject – in the SFO gift shop, I picked it up, determined to really understand it this time. And I’m so glad I did. I read enough to find this quote from Lorca, which sums up his idea of “the duende:”
The duende is a momentary burst of inspiration, the blush of all that is truly alive, all that the performer is creating at a certain moment. The duende resembles what Goethe called the "demonical." It manifests itself principally among musicians and poets of the spoken word, rather than among painters and architects, for it needs the trembling of the moment and then a long silence. -FGL
An amazing idea, no? I realized a few days later, in the middle of another intense rehearsal to which my cast mates and I were all giving our all, that together in this production, we all find our duende. That is how we are so moved, and how we are able to so move others. Another quote from the book, this from the preface: In Andalusia, people say of certain toreros and flamenco artists that they have duende - an inexplicable power of attraction, the ability, on rare occasions, to send waves of emotion through those watching and listening to them.
How can we not want to have that power all the time?! To put aside our egos and let the duende flow through us. To bring healing and beauty to our audiences – to the world – every time we step onstage. It is my new goal, what I want to strive for in all of my work.
While this isn’t a post about Ainadamar, I think you can start to understand how I feel about the work we’ve done in the past few weeks. I can’t wait to tell you more.
Another reason I’ve been quiet about the rehearsal process is that I don’t quite have the words to describe what it’s like to work with Peter Sellars. I’m in a bit of a rush at the moment (2nd Grimes performance tonight), so I won’t even try right now. Someday, hopefully next week after things have quieted down a bit, I can sit and find the words. Just know that the entire cast agrees that this production will be a highlight of our careers.
I do want to share two concepts/philosophies/ideas that have been presented to me through Ainadamar. The first is a Buddhist idea Peter shared with us at a rehearsal in which we were particularly tired and feeling flat. He told us about “right livelihood,” the idea that your work (how you make your living) causes no harm, either to others or to yourself. The arts, he reminded us, are some of the few occupations which can be considered as such. Not only do we not destroy anything or cause harm, we create things! Beautiful things! And our work can heal rather than destroy. If you have ever felt rejuvenated or at peace after hearing a piece of music or reading a poem, you have been on the receiving end of the artist’s “right livelihood.” Peter reminded us that we are blessed to come to work everyday knowing that we aren’t subtracting from our karmic balance.
The other idea was first presented to me at Tanglewood in 2003, when we gave the first premiere of Ainadamar. Osvaldo talked about duende, an idea about which I only got the vaguest hint of its meaning. I knew it was good, that Lorca liked it, and that it was a fleeting thing that could either be present or not. After a dress rehearsal, Bob Spano, our conductor, said to me (regarding my dance solos in the piece), “You know why that was so good this time? You had duende,!” I said “thank you,” of course, but I was too shy to admit that I really had no idea what he was talking about.
So, when I saw the book "In Search of Duende,” – a selection of Lorca's prose writings and poetry on the subject – in the SFO gift shop, I picked it up, determined to really understand it this time. And I’m so glad I did. I read enough to find this quote from Lorca, which sums up his idea of “the duende:”
The duende is a momentary burst of inspiration, the blush of all that is truly alive, all that the performer is creating at a certain moment. The duende resembles what Goethe called the "demonical." It manifests itself principally among musicians and poets of the spoken word, rather than among painters and architects, for it needs the trembling of the moment and then a long silence. -FGL
An amazing idea, no? I realized a few days later, in the middle of another intense rehearsal to which my cast mates and I were all giving our all, that together in this production, we all find our duende. That is how we are so moved, and how we are able to so move others. Another quote from the book, this from the preface: In Andalusia, people say of certain toreros and flamenco artists that they have duende - an inexplicable power of attraction, the ability, on rare occasions, to send waves of emotion through those watching and listening to them.
How can we not want to have that power all the time?! To put aside our egos and let the duende flow through us. To bring healing and beauty to our audiences – to the world – every time we step onstage. It is my new goal, what I want to strive for in all of my work.
While this isn’t a post about Ainadamar, I think you can start to understand how I feel about the work we’ve done in the past few weeks. I can’t wait to tell you more.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Passion
A while back, I alluded to some big gigs in February of 2006 and 2007. I still can’t talk about 2007, but it’s finally time to get next year’s big gig off my chest. It’s been “official” for a couple of months, now, but it didn’t really seem real until I saw this website.
Next year I will make my European debut singing Osvaldo Golijov’s Grammy-nominated Pasiòn Segun de San Marcos. This is thrilling for me in so many ways. First, LONDON! Enough said. The two week tour will also make stops in Atlanta (three performances for the hometown crowd!) and New York. The NYC performances are part of Lincoln Center’s Osvaldo Golijov Festival. Second, I am so honored that Osvaldo chose me to sing this piece. I will never forget my first encounter with him at Tanglewood in 2003, guiding us through Ainadamar. His intensity was almost off-putting at first, but by the end of the summer I knew I had found a kindred spirit. He loves my singing, but I think he will always have a soft spot in his heart for my dancing in Ainadamar! He calls me his “beautiful horse,” which I choose to see as a term of endearment.
The London concert is six days before my 30th (un)birthday. I was in Los Angeles for my birthday in 2004, singing the West Coast premiere of Ainadamar with Dawn and Osvaldo. Is this the start of a trend? I don’t think I’d mind spending every other birthday singing his wonderful music!
So here we go. Next season is an international one.
Somebody pinch me . . .
Next year I will make my European debut singing Osvaldo Golijov’s Grammy-nominated Pasiòn Segun de San Marcos. This is thrilling for me in so many ways. First, LONDON! Enough said. The two week tour will also make stops in Atlanta (three performances for the hometown crowd!) and New York. The NYC performances are part of Lincoln Center’s Osvaldo Golijov Festival. Second, I am so honored that Osvaldo chose me to sing this piece. I will never forget my first encounter with him at Tanglewood in 2003, guiding us through Ainadamar. His intensity was almost off-putting at first, but by the end of the summer I knew I had found a kindred spirit. He loves my singing, but I think he will always have a soft spot in his heart for my dancing in Ainadamar! He calls me his “beautiful horse,” which I choose to see as a term of endearment.
The London concert is six days before my 30th (un)birthday. I was in Los Angeles for my birthday in 2004, singing the West Coast premiere of Ainadamar with Dawn and Osvaldo. Is this the start of a trend? I don’t think I’d mind spending every other birthday singing his wonderful music!
So here we go. Next season is an international one.
Somebody pinch me . . .
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