Guess who's also a Leap Day Baby?

Hmmmm... I wonder if I can get her to come to my concert on Sunday...

(As JSU says, I haven't mentioned it in a while, but we are ON! I'll write more tomorrow, err, later today...)

Bubbles

Via La Cieca, this news about Beverly Sills, "gravely ill with cancer." All our love and good wishes are with you, Ms. Sills, not to mention our gratitude for your sharing your gifts with us.

Overzealous

Note to self: Don’t come home and dive into an intense hour of singing after eating a huge brunch, no matter how inspired you might be after reading this month’s Opera News. Just don’t.

I have the worse case of heartburn I’ve had in months. Ouch!!

What was so inspiring? Here are some quotes:

Emily Pulley on rhetoric: “Professor Como said that the basis of good rhetoric – you know, the kind we never hear anymore – is to be a reliable source, speak the truth and love your audience. And something in my mind clicked. That’s the kind of singer I want to be.”

Diana Damrau on Aithra: “I’m looking forward not only to sing this but to play this role!” Opera can also be about the words!!

From a review of LHL’s Neruda Songs: “[Regardless of] the music on offer…, the mezzo could create for her listeners the illusion of complete spontaneity; she made every word and every not her own, performing with the commitment and pride of an artist who was delivering a piece that had been written just for her.”

Also, I’m sure I’m not the only singer who “does the math” about other singer’s ages when reading biographical articles. We all wonder how we’re doing, whether we’re on a track to achieve the same level of success by the same age. Of course, we know that each track is different, everyone gets to their peak at a different time, blah blah blah, but we can’t help but compare. I was inspired by doing the math on Emily Pulley, who reveals that she will turn 40 this year; she made her Met debut in a small role in 1993 (she was also a Met Competition winner that year), so at age 26. In the last 14 years, she has slowly worked her way from that small role to a full plate of roles at top houses and a reputation for success in American opera. We younger singers very easily forget that success isn’t handed to us right out of grad school, or right after a summer at a top YAP, or even after signing our first Met contract. It’s a long time coming. We work now to achieve later, if that makes any sense.

After all this, plus a few pages of Song of the Lark, I was ready to come home and get down to business! But my poor overstuffed belly didn’t appreciate getting pushed around by my overzealous diaphragm and abs, and now I have heartburn. So it’s armchair work for the rest of the night: L’elisir translations and diction work. Also very important steps towards achieving that success, but not quite as viscerally fulfilling as singing scales and arpeggios…

The Foreseeable Future

Another great singer has removed herself from public performance. According to a statement on the IMG website, Barbara Bonney “will not be performing for the foreseeable future.” (Read more at Playbill Arts.) I have heard that her health is fine, which is a huge relief, but I cannot imagine a personal grief so great that it could remove her from performing completely. I send her what strength and love and hope I can.

She was, along with Dawn Upshaw, a singer who drew me into this art form. If CD’s could wear out, I would have worn out these lieder/chanson CD’s about five years ago. When I sing these songs now, as when I sing certain Debussy songs that Dawn recorded, I have to very careful not to just regurgitate their interpretations! Ms. Bonney was also a Sophie worth studying.

Imagine how thrilled I was to sing for Ms. Bonney in a masterclass at New England Conservatory in 2002. Somewhere in a box, I have my notes from the class. All I remember without reviewing the notes is that she reprimanded me for touching the piano (“You wouldn’t walk up to Yo-Yo Ma during a duet and place your hand on his cello, would you?”), but praised my German diction. Ha, I found a picture! Ignore the skinny girl with bad posture, and just imagine her joy at singing for one of her idols!

Ms. Bonney was a huge advocate of living in Europe for a while as a young singer, an idea that has recently resurfaced for me. A year or two in Germany, performing twenty performances of roles that will grow to be your “bread and butter” roles, can be an invaluable experience. Who knows if I’d be able to do it now, but I’m looking into it…

I wish Ms. Bonney peace and joy in her time off, and I hope sincerely that it is just that. “Time off,” and not an end.

And on a different note, today we welcome back a diva of a different sort: Trrill is back! Just in time to gear up with all the other opera bloggers for Opening Day of the 206-2007 season. (Is there such a thing? Something like this, perhaps?)

Happily Ever After

Our Cinderella, Joyce DiDonato, met her Prince Charming three years ago, and, just as in the fairy tale, it was love at first sight. She told me earlier in the summer that it felt like they were “married” from the second day. All that was missing was the official ceremony.

Last week, when a beautiful diamond ring appeared on her hand, we knew it wouldn’t be long before they made it official. Little did we know that they would hit the road on the weekend and get married in Vegas!! They joked about it all summer, and I think the temptation finally became too great to resist.

We had a small “reception” for them after the performance on Wednesday, generously hosted by Joyce’s other Prince Charming, Jennifer. All of the Cendrillon “family” was there, and there was cake and there were toasts and the whole nine-yards. I was so honored to be there!

Read more – and see the wedding photo! – in this article from the local paper. (Ok, can’t quite find the article, but I’ll keep looking.)

Congratulations, Joyce and Leo!

Carol Vaness is the Marschallin

Great article in this past weekend’s Seattle Times about Carol Vaness, who sings her first Marschallin in Der Rosenkavalier at Seattle Opera, starting this Saturday.

My favorite quote: "In this role, I can't maintain my slightly childish behavior," she says. "The Marschallin may be the kind of woman who appreciates a young lover, but she is all grown up. I've had to grow up, too."

Ah, the things we can learn from the characters we play…

LHL

Lorraine Hunt Lieberson died yesterday, at home here in Santa Fe. I knew she was ill, and was hoping against hope that she would recover. I was so looking forward to hiding in the theater during rehearsals for the Mark Morris Orfeo at the Met next season...

I heard her sing three years ago at Tanglewood, Debussy's sensual "Chanson de Bilitis," and even with some rather silly staging, I was blown away. Talk of her musicality is on everyone's lips right now, but I was bowled over by the sheer beauty of her voice.

In the past few years, I have appreciated the blogosphere's tributes to the many great musicians and artists who have passed on. I read the articles and recollections and reminiscences with great interest, celebrating the person's life with joy and being grateful for their gifts to those of us still here.

But this time I don't want to read anything. I just want her to not be dead.

Just when I thought...

... I couldn't love her more, Dawn Upshaw takes on new project that further demonstrates what a gutsy artist she is.

So cool.

The Diva Inside

I was paid a great compliment yesterday. I was talking with two new colleagues, baritones both, about Santa Fe’s season next year. I mentioned that I intended for this to be my last summer away from home, but that when I saw that they were doing Magic Flute, I was tempted to reconsider. DG asked if I wanted to sing one of the Three Ladies, and I said, no, that I’d want to cover (or sing!) the Queen! He then replied, “Oh, you’re a soprano? I thought you were a mezzo – you’re so grounded. You’re not flighty enough to be a coloratura!” Haha! I was amused and flattered.

Then today I had a coaching with Nico Castel, a wonderful resource to have “on hand” for part of the summer. I sang through “Qui la voce,” my newest aria and first real attempt at bel canto style singing. Whenever I would get to a cadenza (an interpolated passage of notes, usually not written by the composer, and usually very florid), Mr. Castel and Pedro, the accompanist, exchanged glances and raised eyebrows. I was pretty sure that was good, but you never know! Then, when I got to the sustained high note at the end, I chickened out and didn’t hold it very long. After complimenting me on most of my singing, Mr. Castel said, “But that last note? It’s too short. After all those fireworks you gave us, we were left wanting! I call it ‘cantus interuptus.’” (Get it?)

So, what to do? I’m still nervous about sustained high notes, and I think he may have hit on a big reason why. I am so proud of my non-diva attitude offstage, that I don’t bring out the Diva that needs to be there to sing those notes. Mr. Castel talked of the anticipation that can be built in the audience when a singer has given them thrilling moment after thrilling moment in an aria and the brings them to what they know will be the final high note, the climax. By taking some time to really prepare yourself to sing that note well, you can also create a feeling of expectancy in that moment. And so I gave it a shot. I sang the penultimate passage, which ends on a high C, then took a moment as Pedro held the dominant chord in tremolo. I brought my hands in front of me, in true diva style, took a big breathe, and let it rip. And I could tell by Mr. Castel’s reaction that it was just what he’d been waiting for.

So while I’m maintaining my “Diva Next Door” persona offstage, it’s time to embrace the Diva onstage. The Diva who leaves her audience breathless, who makes them wait for the notes she knows they came to hear. And who can deliver them every time.