Valmont Amateur Astronomy Group Recital

Tonight at First Presbyterian Church in Boulder, CO! Come on down if you're nearby...

“These Fair Stars”
A night of song celebrating the heavens & supporting the VAAG
Anne-Carolyn Bird, soprano
Christopher Zemliauskas, piano


Sure on this shining night, Samuel Barber

Clair de lune, Claude Debussy
Jupiter has seven moons, Leonard Bernstein
from I hate music!
“Gold is a fine thing," Douglas Moore
from The Ballad of Baby Doe

* * *

“What good would the moon be?," Kurt Weill
from Street Scene
Son, Sergei Rachmaninoff
Nacht und Träume, Franz Schubert

* * *

A mezzanotte, Gaetano Donizetti
Ständchen, Richard Strauss
Die Nacht

* * *

“Ain’t it a pretty night, Carlisle Floyd
from Susannah


Intermission


“O du, mein holder Abendstern," Richard Wagner
from Tannhäuser

* * *

Mein schöner Stern, Robert Schumann
Mein Stern, Clara Schumann

* * *

Nuit d’etoiles, Claude Debussy

* * *

I wonder as I wander, John Jacob Niles
O Holy Night, Adolph Adam

Carol Sing! Please stand and join us.

O Little Town of Bethlehem
It came upon the midnight clear
We three kings
Silent Night

* * *

The Astronomers, Richard Hundley

In the Night

I think everybody knows how much I love programming a recital, and this astronomy program has been no exception. I keep calling it “the astronomy recital” because it is for an astronomy group, but it is obviously more of a night-themed program, and I’m loving how it is shaping up.

There are practical as well as artistic elements to consider this time around. Since the program is in Boulder and Jocelyn is unable to travel with me this time, I will be using two wonderful local pianists. We’re still figuring out how to divide up the program, and I’m trying to select music that we already know or will have a fairly easy time putting together. B will also be singing a few pieces! I’m still on the lookout for a good night-themed duet, so keep those ideas coming. (I’m using several of the ideas that I’ve gotten from comments and on Twitter! Thanks for your help!)

On the (much more enjoyable) artistic side, I’ve divided the program into four sets, each with 3-4 songs and an aria that center on a theme. The first half of the program will focus on things in the sky - Stars & Planets and The Moon - while the second half deals with the less tangible aspects of “the night” - Seduction & Romance and Dreams.

That last set theme was the last to make itself clear to me, and in truth, that didn’t happen until I received a comment on my last post. I had asked for help with determining this last set via a Twitter post, asking if maybe “dreams or dreaming” would work. I knew I was thinking something about the way we dream when we look at the sky as well as the dreams we dream when we sleep, but this reader summed it up perfectly:

I like the dreams theme. Not referring to the dreams one has while sleeping but the dreams one has while looking at the night sky. The vast expanse of sky, the limitless boundaries for the imagination to explore, the incomprehensible beauty, the possibility of finding something new. Maybe I'm being naively romantic but I think that's what astronomers dream about every time they look up - as maybe the rest of us do too. Astronomers may talk about "Star e4.632056" and all sorts of technical stuff but I'd bet underneath that they're all hopeless dreamers.

I mentioned Nacht und Traume the other day because when it ends with:

"They listen with delight,
cry out when day awakens;
Come back, Holy Night!
Sweet dreams,come back!"

I thought that might sum up the feelings of astronomers everywhere. Listening to the night sky, disappointed when the sun rises, and wishing the stars would remain above so they could continue looking up and dreaming.

Pretty cool, right? I got chills when I read it, realizing that s/he said exactly what I wanted to express in this final set. I am thrilled to have had such wonderful help with this program! Thank you, twelvethoughts, where ever you may be...

I feel like I have most of the program set, but I’m still hunting for the right aria for the Seduction & Romance set. It could for be soprano or bass-baritone, or maybe an opera duet, but it has to be sexy! Should be an obvious choice out there somewhere, but I’m drawing a blank. Send me your ideas! I won’t be sharing the final program until close to the recital date (mid-December), but it will be worth the wait...

Studying

Funny how much harder it is to memorize something that is not one’s native language!

Last year’s Blier recital here at Wolf Trap practically memorized itself, since all of our songs were in English. This year, the theme is “Tales from the Vienna Woods,” an all-German program. All the composers have ties to Vienna (Austria, not Virginia) and all of the songs are about dem Wald: the woods. It was Steve’s first recital program here at Wolf Trap, and the title is a fun play on the fact that we are in a “Vienna Wood” here, as well.

I have four songs, three duets, and four ensembles on the program (so does everybody else!), so I have been spending a couple of hours a day typing all my words over and over again, doing my best to make sure they’re in there. Thankfully B has been up in NYC for the past couple of days, so he hasn’t had to listen to me mumbling under my breath or singing random phrases for hours at a time. Of course, I still have to go through my Ariadne memory checks, so he’ll get to experience it soon enough!

Tomorrow we’re working through the program in order. It will be fun to discover, as we did last year, interactions between us as characters and singers. I’ve been appointed “Dance Captain” again (although Steve said there was never any question: “ACB simply IS Dance Captain!” Is that a compliment?), and there may or may not be some waltzing in the Barns on Saturday night. You’ll have to come and find out. Hopefully there won’t be any “wardrobe malfunctions” this year...

In other news, I’ve updated my website: web.mac.com/annecarolynbird. There are pics from Candide on the Photos page and a few songs on the new Music page. There will be arias there by the end of the summer (haven’t I said that before?), and hopefully I’ll get things worked out with the acb.com folks so I can have the old domain point to the new site. I had planned on getting a professional site done this year, but I like this one well enough that I figured I’d save my money. Obviously, I haven’t gotten the blog totally linked up yet, but I’ll get around to that. Look for pictures from Barbiere soon, too.

Tales from the “Tales of Vienna Woods” next week!

Shake Up, and Shakin’ It

Via Chris at CPB, because I read Bloglines before I read my Sunday Times, this article about “audience practice” over the years. (How did that grammar error in the first sentence make the final draft?!) My favorite paragraph: “Another time, late on a Spanish evening many years ago, I heard a village band competition at the bullring in Valencia. The playing was astonishing, and as a particular performance gradually took hold of the audience, low hums of approval would grow into something approaching wordless roars. It was the most profound concert experience of my life.”

This fueled a post I’ve been building for a while about the “indie classical” movement and what exactly we’re trying to shake up here. Folks like the admins and performers at New Amsterdam Records, composers like Nico Muhly and Caleb Burhans, bands like Secret Society, Alarm Will Sound, Brooklyn Rider, and Ljova and the Vjola Contraband: I think all of these musicians have “shake up” as part of their mission statement. Heck, I'd even add Andrew Bird to that list. Secret Society is a “steampunk big bang” and Vjola Contraband is “chamber-jam music for the "remix generation".” Brooklyn Rider says they want to “invite audiences into a greater shared dialogue.” Liszt seemed to have a similar mindset: “When Liszt did his solo acts, there was none of the march-on, march-off stage ritual of today. Liszt greeted patrons at the door, mingled in the audience and schmoozed with friend and stranger alike.”

So what are we trying to change?

Last weekend, TM was here for the CMA conference and we took in a few other sites and sounds around town. Friday, I watched the second half of the CMA opening concert; I heard three works/groups/performances and had three very different reactions. The first was piano trio by Leon Kirschner. A piano trio is already a very traditional ensemble (piano, violin, cello), and the young ladies playing the work sat in the usual set-up and wore very traditional attire. A little too traditional, if you know me, which you do: floor-length, jewel-toned satin gowns, each a different style and color but obviously very coordinated. The women looked beautiful, and they played even more beautifully, but it was just a bit… I don’t know. Safe? Done? It wasn’t boring, because the music took care of that. But how could it have been “newer?” Does it matter? The work was written in 1998, but if I’d just been watching and not listening I would have assumed it was from 1898. How can performance practice reflect the music? Should it? Does it matter?! It obviously matters to me, ‘cuz I can’t stop thinking about it...

The second piece was the first part of Pierrot Lunaire, performed by eighth blackbird and Lucy Shelton, who I adore. This performance rocked. First of all, it was from memory, which freed up the performers to move and to interact with each other. I loved it. They were all over the place: kneeling, changing positions to play with each other as the ensemble changed, turning their backs to the audience. It was a lot, but it never felt “busy.” Their movements never felt affected or showy because their attitude was one of ease. This was simply their performance, their gift to the audience, and they weren’t wasting energy worrying about how it was going to “go over.” They were being, not doing. And even with no “doing,” or rather, because there was no “doing,” there was a long, breathless pause after the final movement, as the audience slowly freed itself from the spell the performers had cast. It was magical.

The final performance of the night was by So Percussion, whom I have loved since I saw them last year at the Whitney Museum. Four guys, each with his own style, comfortable, casual. Their performance of Reich’s “Music for Pieces of Wood” absolutely blew. my. mind. It was the most visceral reaction I’ve had to a performance in a long time: my palms were sweaty, my heart raced. Was it the performance? The piece itself? The perfurme of the woman next to me? Who knows. But they got something right. I was again under a spell. When I saw them at the restaurant after the performance, I went to say hello and thank them; I felt like a girl talking to her high school crush…

That’s how I want an audience to feel. Know what I mean? Excited, turned on, drawn in, breathless… not unlike the feeling I had seeing The Shins or The New Pornographers, now that I think about it. Or Die Walkure...

So, what about a “recital” at a place like Webster Hall? How would I feel, as a performer, if people were coming and going, drinking beers (spilling beers), talking on their cell phones, etc.. How much is a rock band aware of that stuff? They are up on stage, removed, listening to their monitors, maybe unaware of most of the activity beyond the footlights. Is amplification the key? Things are loud enough that the audience doesn’t have to sit quietly, afraid to talk for fear of missing something, and the band can tune out what they don’t want to see/hear/know. Is it a respect thing? Why do we respect classical concerts (showing it by sitting still and being quiet and clapping where “appropriate”) more than rock concerts?

CT the DT tells of a performance of a jazz group (I can’t remember who, a pianist-led group, I think) where, at the end, when people started clapping, the pianist looked up and seemed to be almost surprised to see that audience there. The band had been so into the music, into working together, that they had almost forgetton about the “performance.” Is this good? Part of me says yes, that it can be just about the music, but then part of me wonders if it is disrespectful to the audience to “forget” about them. How does the performers’ relation to the audience affect the overall feeling of the performance? How can performers focus on “being” and still give the audience a show worth the price of admission (or more).

Man, the more I write, the more questions I come up with.

TM and I also saw a concert at ICO Music (formerly VIM: Tribeca). There were several elements that indicated “we’re trying to shake things up here:” the venue, free booze, the dress of the performers. And yet. As TM said, it was still musicians with stands and an audience that sat quietly until it was ok to clap. So what are we shaking up here? How can we do more? What will we sacrifice? What will we gain?

Devotion Evolves

In the last couple of months, I’ve had several meetings, usually over tasty dinners, with people who have been my advisors on The Bhakti Project. This fall was a bit of an incubating period, I think, as we all - performers, organizers, composers - thought about what was created this year and how we wanted to move forward. And so we are moving. And shaking and scheming and planning and hoping...

Funny, but just a few months ago, I was really discouraged, even using the word “failure” to talk about The Bhakti Project. All I could see were the goals I hadn’t met, the things that hadn’t worked out just as I planned. Here’s what didn’t work:

1. We didn’t raise $18,000 or complete the three phases (commission, recital, recording).
2. My idea of blog-generated “micro-financing” didn’t really get off the ground.
3. I still owe my composer 80% of his fee.
4. The attendance at the initial recital was terribly disappointing.

Then last month I had to file my end-of-year report for Fractured Atlas. This, together with the above conversations and the clarity that comes with time and distance, made me realize that there were many, many things that did work:

1. We raised $4000, most of it in six weeks, and successfully completed Phase 2 (the recital) under budget.
2. Not including proceeds from recital tickets, 20 people made donations - including six whom I have never met, some of whom have never heard me sing in person.
3. The recital program itself was a success, even the risky elements like a silent meditation and reciting texts and singing Leonard Cohen.
4. We got a fantastic review that will be great material for future press releases and donor materials.

It’s easy to forget that projects evolve, that things change. This doesn’t mean that the first idea failed. It just changed. I bit off WAY more than I could chew when I started this project, naively hopeful that “everything would just work out!” Heh. And things are working out in their time, and along the way I’ve learned a lot and made some wonderful contacts that will aid in the future of the project.

So what’s next? Well, I think JD and I agree that the recital we presented last May, “I have some light: Songs of Spirit,” was unique to that time and that our original idea of presenting that program repeatedly doesn’t feel right. It feels proper that the first Bhakti Project recital was so personal, such an intimate expression of our spiritual relationship with music, but I think we both feel that we said what needed to be said. Now we can use the structure of The Bhakti Project to present new programs.

Hillula is still on the table, of course, and in our last meeting with Judd he mentioned a work that was a major influence as we was writing. The idea came to pair the two pieces on a program, and then those two works together made us think of another cycle (one that was briefly considered for “Songs of Spirit”)… And all of a sudden we had a new program! Three works, each about twenty minutes long. No titles yet, but I will say that it will be a challenging program, both for us as performers and for the audience. We hope to take our audience on an exhausting emotional and spiritual journey. The program feels very “grown-up,” very professional, and we think it would make a killer CD...

We’re also talking about the bigger picture, or “life past Hillula.” We would love to be able to present one recital program a year, maybe touring it, and we plan to include one premiere on each program. Rather than focusing exclusively on new music, we’re hoping to find new works that will stand side-by-side with works that have become “standard” recital repertoire. It’s easy to present new stuff all the time; it’s a bit more of a challenge to show an audience that new music can fit seamlessly with works they already know and love.

That is the new mission of The Bhakti Project. If that interests you, it’s never too early to make a donation for the 2008 program.

(Hmmm… one “new” composer each year. Should it also be one new dress designer each year? I think it should.)

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!

Tonight, with Djordje

Nocturne Op. 5 - Despic

Vocalise, Op. 34 No. 14 - Rachmaninov

Two Nocturnes Op. 27 - Chopin
1. c# minor
2. Db major

Fiancailles pour rire - Poulenc
La Dame d'Andre
Dans l'herbe
Il vole
Mon cadavre et doux comme un gant
Violon
Fleurs

Moment musical in Db major - Rachmaninov
Prayer
Prelude in G major
Loneliness
Prelude in g# minor
How fair this spot
No prophet I

The printed program also includes the following note:

If you choose to follow along with the text, please turn pages quietly.

Another option: skim the poems ahead of time and then just let me tell you the story...

We'll see how that works!

Tomorrow morning I'll be accompanying my lovely niece to her first opera! We'll go to the final dress rehearsal of The Magic Flute, and I think we're both very excited. I'll post a full report of both events this weekend, in between Iphigenie study sessions. Rehearsals for that start on Monday!

Shimmering, Sparkling

What do Rachmaninoff, The National, and red skinny jeans have in common? They were all part of my night last night, making for a great NYC experience.

Looking again, I guess that opener should be more along the lines of “one of these things is not like the other,” since skinny jeans and indie rock go together like classical music recitals and formal gowns. Ummm…. wait a minute.

Last night I sang on another concert in the VIM series at a great little gallery in Tribeca. This series has always (in its now two seasons of existence) been about breaking the mold, so to speak, of chamber music and recital presentation. I talked with several people throughout the night about this, musicians and non-musicians alike, and we all seemed excited about this trend towards making chamber music intimate and familiar again. I’m sure people have been talking of the “rebirth of the salon” for a while now, but I know that among my peers, we’re doing our damndest to make it happen.

So, to that end… I looked at my schedule for the evening: sing Rachmaninoff songs in a recital in Tribeca at 7pm, then hoof it uptown to catch The National give the inaugural concert at Terminal 5, the new venue operated by The Bowery Presents. It was rainy and gross, so I wanted to carry as little as possible with me, which meant: no change of clothes. What could I wear that would be appropriate for both events?

I checked in with Kimball, the recital’s host, to see how he’d feel about something a little less than standard, and as I hoped, he was all for it. A few weeks ago, I picked up an amazing vintage sequined top at a church sidewalk sale: black and silver, a big butterfly design on the front and back, loose-fitting and fun. When I saw it, I thought, “That is either the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, or the coolest!” Since it was $5, I bought it, immediately picturing it with skinny red jeans and black heels. Disco lives, babies! I found the jeans at Urban Outfitters, of course, and voila! Hipster recitalist.

I cannot tell you how much fun it was to perform in that venue, for those people, in those clothes. It was so relaxed, so comfortable, so intimate – but not a drop of professionalism or musicianship was lost at any moment, by any of the performers. Intimate doesn’t have to mean sloppy, relaxed doesn’t have to mean lazy. There were no program notes or translations, so I got to introduce each song, further breaking the wall of formality. (There were some Russians, in the house, incidentally, and they said they understood every word! Phew!!) I met some great new colleagues and friends, and discussions were begun about possible future performances (stay tuned for news of a possible Bhakti revival!).

It goes without saying that the concert uptown was awesome. I had no idea a violin could rock like that… And JD and I got to see the first champagne spilled on the stage at this fantastic new venue, which just happens to be five blocks from my house. I’ll see The Shins there in two weeks! A midnight snack at the diner up the street – where we were joined by a dear friend & colleague who had his own performance in Midtown that evening – and a brisk walk home through the October mist wrapped up what was an unforgettable night. Friends, Fashion, Food, indeed. Oh yeah, and music, too… Fabulous.

Oh, and? The evening was professionally videotaped (taped? what do we call this now?!), so stay tuned for some YouTube action. See the sequins in all their glory!!

**Disclaimer, NIB, etc: I'm not at all proposing that we do away with the formal concert gown! Far from it; you know I love me some Badgley Mischka. If I am ever lucky enough to present a recital in Weill or Alice Tully, you can bet I'll be glammed out to the max! But, every now and then, let's relax a bit; let's bring some rock star glamour to this fantastic art form.

Two little birds

Today my neighbors will be a bit confused, because they’ll be hearing not one but TWO lyric sopranos warming up and preparing for auditions.

Yep, this weekend I’ve been lucky enough to play host to my dear friend RC, who is in town for a quick audition before heading back home to Houston. We’ve had great talks about rep and auditions and jobs and job (in)security, as well as catching each other up on all the wonderful things our colleagues are up to. I’m sad she has to leave this evening!

I often wonder what my neighbors think when they hear me singing. My closest neighbors, the ones next door, know me, but I wonder what folks who don’t know me think. Are they annoyed? Do they like it? Do they wonder what I look like?

I learned one neighbor’s thoughts last week, when we stopped in very non-NYC fashion and chatted a bit on the sidewalk. He’s an actor, and when I told him I was an opera singer he said, “Oh, is that you I hear singing in the afternoons?” When I said yes, likely, he said that I didn’t fit at all with his image of the person that went with the voice.

“I thought you were…”
“Fat?”
“No, not fat, but…” (holds his hands in front of his chest)
“Buxom?”
“Yeah! And with dark hair, maybe down past your shoulders, kind of Mediterranean looking. You look so… English.”

So, apparently, there’s a bit of Carmen in my voice these days! Hot.

Audition today, then rehearsing Rachmaninoff with KG for the recital on Thursday night. This will be part of the same VIM series that presented the Bhakti recital in May. I’ll post more info soon, and send an email to my NYC mailing list, but for now, if you’d like to hear some piano chamber music and you’ll be in NYC on Thursday night, come down to TriBeCa!

After rehearsal, drinks with bloggers! We’re having our first NYC music blogger meet-up, of sorts, in honor of M.C-’s short trip to the city. Rest assured there will be bourbon…

My Sweet Manhattan Home Town

I think it’s safe to say that Saturday’s recital will, as I texted some friends after the show, go down in my memory as one of my most special evenings of music. It was one of those nights where, even though there were small flubs onstage, there was a perfect convergence of spirit and music, of musicians and friends. I consider myself privileged to be surrounded by such a wonderful group of performers (this is true of all my WTOC colleagues; more on this soon). Generous with each other onstage and with the audience, and in possession of beautiful voices and stellar musicianship, they are sweet and true friends I will miss dearly – until our next collaboration!

That was the general atmosphere on Saturday: it was something special, and we all felt it. Several audience members said it was the best concert they’d seen in a long time, with LB even going so far as to say it was the best concert he’d seen “ever ever ever EVER!” Both in the audience and on the stage, there were a lot of laughs and not a few tears. In short, we did our jobs - and created something special in the doing.

But of course, there were a few individual things that will stand out in my memory as unique moments onstage, not the least of which was the moment my dress threatened to give me the reputation of Wolf Trap’s Janet Jackson. Wardrobe malfunction!!

I wore my dark purple Nadia Tarr dress, the famous wrap dress that has been touted here ad nauseum. It was twisted (but not tied) into a sleeveless configuration, with the ties meeting in a loose twisty knot in front. About a third of the way through the first verse of “Another 100 People,” I felt that my very active breathing - a necessity for this very fast and very low quasi-belted song - was beginning to loosen the knot! And sure enough, two deep rib-expanding breaths later… undone!

It was at this moment that I truly understood the brain’s immense capacity for multi-tasking. Not only did my hands manage to catch the ties as they fell, but I was able to retie the knot and give a knowing “oops!” smile to the audience – all without missing a beat, quite literally. Not only that, but it was the best version, the most ensemble-y together, that Steve and I had ever done. I still don’t know how I did it, how I managed not to fall on my face in that, my most difficult of pieces. I can only think of one of the opera maxim’s I’ve picked up along the way: “That’s why we rehearse.”

(My host, who was in the audience, said that it just looked like the sash of the dress had come undone. Not such a big deal, right? But all my girlfriends in attendance knew the mechanics of the dress, and knew that it could have been, shall we say, quite the show had I missed those ties!)

Something else about going into “auto-pilot” while dealing with the dress: I reverted back to my original interpretation of the song, rather than telling the story that Steve (and others who know Company better than I do) had worked to get out of me. “Another 100 People” is sung by a woman who is in love with the hustle and bustle of the millions of people in NYC, who is amazed at how folks manage to find each other there, and who relishes her encounters, even the missed ones. I’m not there yet. I’m still a bit overwhelmed, unsure of my place in the bustle, nervous that it will only be missed connections and “will you pick me up or do I meet you there or shall we let it go?” I’ve only lived there a year…

It all made for a rendition of “Another 100 People” that was much more intense than we had rehearsed, raw, even. As I walked past Steve to leave the stage, he pulled me to him and quietly whispered, “It’s all going to be ok.” My host said that though the audience had no idea what he said to me, it was a very sweet moment. For me, though, it caught me completely by surprise. I had opened myself very wide in singing that song, and that little touch of kindness, of love, cut right to the quick. I was grateful that I had four numbers before my next appearance onstage…

We all retired to the beautiful home of one of WTOC’s generous donors for the afterparty, and as I refueled at the food table the lady of house came to chat a bit. She said, “you’re the only one who didn’t say where you grew up,” referring to the fact that the other four folks onstage, in their blurbs about New York, had referenced their hometowns. (NYC is Steve’s hometown; small town Texas, Pennsylvania, and Mississippi were also represented). She was right, of course, due in large part to the fact that I don’t really have a “hometown.” Growing up in the military, I moved around every few years and have continued to do so as an adult. I went to school in Georgia and Massachusetts, was a married homeowner in Washington, I have family in Georgia and Colorado, and I’ve worked in six states and internationally in the past two years. But I have family in New York, too, and friends, and this is where I’ll spend most of the upcoming season, so the City is home for me now.

It is home; whether it becomes Home is yet to be seen…

New York Thoughts

My anecdote from the recital last night:

In my first weeks in New York, I was that fresh-faced girl making eye-contact with strangers on the street. I was stunned by the number of seeking eyes I found looking back at me, as if they were saying “Are you the person I’ve been looking for? The friend? The lover? Will you know me?” Maybe I saw reflected in their eyes what mine were asking.

I still make eye contact with people in New York, although I find myself doing it less and less these days. It gets me into trouble sometimes… but I’m still searching.

I recited this just before we launched into “Another 100 People.” More on the evening – as a whole and in particular – soon. For now, there are pictures over on Kim's blog and a review (!) from the Post.

I got rhythm

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.**

The city so nice…

I returned from my travels* yesterday and I’ve already started what will likely be a daily routine of work for the Blier recital: warm-up, review my words, and spend an hour singing through my songs with EM, our “prep coach.” Blier gets here on Sunday, and then, from what I understand, all hell might break loose. The mantra around here seems to be “Just be comfortable with the music and be ready to be flexible.” It seems that Blier has a habit of turning everything on its head, taking things in directions you hadn’t thought about before. This is what makes his programs so brilliant, but I can imagine that it can be a daunting rehearsal process! I’m excited to see how it all works in practice…

As is often (always?) the case for Blier’s recitals, there are multiple singers, in this case, SMTB. (**Edited to explain: "SMTB" stands for soprano-mezzo-tenor-baritone. This isn't my shorthand for someone with four names...) We each have several solo pieces, a duet or trio or two, and then a few songs that we’ll all sing together. In each of the programs that I have seen (I’ve seen one recital here and several on Blier’s New York Festival of Song series), this creates a wonderful evening of theater, in which the singers work (and play!) together to create a world of music.

The theme of the recital is “Manhattan Diaries,” but I’ve also seen it listed as “Manhattan: The Agony and the Ecstasy.” So much has been written about this wonderful town, my new hometown. Steve will be reading quotes about the city throughout the program, and he has asked us each to write something as well, to try and capture our thoughts and feelings about living and working in New York. Regardless of whether he uses our words, it will be a great exercise. I was back in the city for just two days a couple of weeks ago, and as much as I love it here, I’m excited to go back…

My quarter of the recital includes these numbers, which will be interspersed with the rest of the group:
“The Lordly Hudson,” Ned Rorem
“What shall we remember,” Ricky Ian Gordon
“Slumming on Park Avenue,” from the movie On the Avenue, Irving Berlin, duet with SC
“Way out West,” from Babes in Arms, Rodgers & Hart
“Another Hundred People,” from Company, Stephen Sondheim
“I happen to like New York,” from The New Yorkers, Cole Porter; full ensemble
“Some other time,” from On the Town, music by Bernstein, lyrics by Comden & Green, full ensemble

One aspect of this program that differs from Blier’s others: everything is in English! Easy to memorize, fun to play with. And, I can keep the Foreign Language section of my brain open for Italian! After today’s coaching with EM, I’ll be spending several hours writing translations into my Figaro score; I’m finally ready to see the notes!

* There is still a cloud over me, most definitely. The past few days, despite some wonderful activities, have been kind of hazy, like I haven’t really been awake. (That might also have something to do with how poorly I’ve been sleeping…) But I realize now, more than ever, that I am living my Granddaddy’s dream of making music my life, my living. So, I’m living.

Next

The recital was wonderful! It was well received, and all the risks we took paid off. Judd's piece was a hit, as I suspected, and everyone is excited to hear more. I’ll spend some time later in the week talking through the experience, but for now, Steve’s review does a wonderful job of presenting some of the more non-standard elements of the recital. Thanks for the kind words, Steve! Glad you were there.

We raised a little money, and thanks to all who have donated so far via the $15 Pledge Challenge! I’ll be dropping focus on The Bhakti Project for a while, so this will be the last solicitation until things pick up again in the fall, when we turn our eye to the recording project. Thanks for your support!

How I wish, wish, wish I could take a week off!! To just sit on the couch and read books and watch movies or go out to leisurely dinners… But, alas, as is the nature of things, I’ve been off and running on the next projects before the recital was even over.

Remember Wolf Trap? Yeah, me, too. I leave on Wednesday, so I’m busy for the next few days packing, making sure I know my role, and looking for a car. (I’ll be buying a used car rather than renting all summer. I’ve had good luck with this in the past; here’s hoping the Car Karma continues!)

I’ll be back probably at the end of the week, once I’m settled in my summer home. Be good to each other until I get back!

Programming, challenges

For those of you who can’t make the recital tomorrow, here’s a sneak-peek at the program. (I guess it’s technically a sneak-peek even if you can make the recital!) As is often the case with these things, Jocelyn and I switched a bit of the order around today at the dress rehearsal, which made me happy that I put off getting the copies made!

I have some light: Songs of Spirit

from Hermit Songs, Samuel Barber:
St. Ita’s Vision
The Heavenly Banquet
Sea-Snatch
The Desire for Hermitage

Mary, did you know?, Lowry & Green
Breathe on me, Breath of God, Hatch & Jackson
w/ Amanda Crider, Cameron Smith, & David Giuliano
Suzanne, Leonard Cohen
Waitin’, William Bolcom

quiet

Action de grâce Olivier Messiaen
Hillula, World Premiere, Judd Greenstein

peace

from Mirabai Songs, John Harbison:
It’s true, I went to the market
All I was doing was breathing
Why Mira can’t go back to her old house
Don’t go

Songs, Sergei Rachamninoff
Ja ne prarok
Zdes xhorosho
Fso xhotchet pet

All together, it’s about 65 minutes including the two small pauses. We’re not calling them intermissions, because, well, they’re not really; they’re just breaks. Each one has part of the drama of the program tied to it, but I can’t say more than that until we go live!

Donations for The Bhakti Project continue to come in, and I’m finally starting to believe that we’ll make this happen! Today we got our first repeat gift, ear-marked as it were for the wine reception. Thank you, SK! We’ll raise a glass to you. My sweet friend LW gave a small donation yesterday because she isn’t able to make the recital, and the gesture gave me an idea…

I’d like to issue a “pledge challenge,” taking a page from public television. If you are sorry that you can’t attend tomorrow’s recital, whether because you don’t live in New York or because you’re currently out of town or because you have rehearsal or because it’s raining like crazy, please consider donating the cost of a ticket – just $15. That may not seem like much in the donation-sense of things, but trust me! It will add up!

This site gets about 240 unique visitors a day, and if 2/3 of you gave $15, we would easily meet Phase One of our fund-raising: recital costs. If 300 more of you gave $15, we could meet Phase Two, which covers the commission fee for Judd Greenstein. We’ll deal with Phase Three, the recording, over the summer and into the fall.

Think about it? Here’s the link again, provided for you just like the number on your screen: Join the $15 Pledge Challenge!

Off for some final study, then bed. Tomorrow: sleeping in, a good breakfast, getting the programs printed, then folding and stuffing them with pledge cards and envelopes while my toenails dry…

A day in the life

Today was one of those days, the kind of day that lets me know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am “living the life,” that I am a professional singer. I’m still kind of floating from the sheer joy of it all! Let me see if I can summarize.

Morning spent, as it often is, with coffee and email and, today, finishing the flyer for the recital. This is just a half-sheet of paper with all the pertinent information about the recital: date (May 17), time (7:30), location (Gallerie Icosahedron, 27 N. Moore St), overview of the program (works by Harbison, Barber, Rachmaninoff, Cohen, Dylan, and a world premiere by Judd Greenstein), and a word about the Bhakti Project-sponsored wine (and cheesecake!) reception following the recital. The morning always goes by too quickly, and then it was time to rush off to meet with Jocelyn.

We spent the time working on Hillula, which is, to use Judd’s word, large-scale! It’s about 18-minutes long, and we’ve had it for about a week, with about another week to go. Needless to say, we went rapidly back and forth between feelings of great joy (it’s a gorgeous work) and great stress! We’ll find the middle ground, though, and make sure what we offer on Thursday is on par with the works we’ve been rehearsing for weeks. This is my New York recital debut, and we want to make sure it goes off without a hitch - not to mention giving Hillula the debut it deserves!

So, another step to that end: checking my Russian diction. I left NYU (where we’d been rehearsing) at 2:15, grabbed a burrito to go, and headed up on the 1 to meet DN at 114th. As soon as we sang through the first song, which I’d learned at Tanglewood in 2003, he said, “Did you coach this with Ken Griffiths?” Indeed I did! Turns out all the little diction things Ken grilled into me at Tanglewood are still there, and, as he studied with him, too, DN could recognize them! We sang through the other two songs, and I was given clearance to sing Russian in public. (What a great language!)

Then I had 45 minutes to get down to the Water Taxi at Pier 11, just off Wall Street, to head over for our meeting with Nadia. Her studio is in Red Hook, Brooklyn, which doesn’t have a subway stop very close by, so Jocelyn and I rendezvous-d (is that a word?) amid much confusion at the Pier. We got on the right boat (no running down the gangplank swearing this time, EHR!) and enjoyed a beautiful ride through across the river. It was a gorgeous day, and the breeze felt absolutely divine. I finally got to eat that burrito on the ride over, and then we were in Brooklyn.

If any of you have ever taken the Water Taxi over to the Brooklyn Army Terminal stop, I think you’ll agree with me when I say that it feels like another country! All of a sudden, we were in Italy or France! The old street car, the supermarket café on the water, and the beautiful old studios lining the street. Charming. We walked towards the studio, but couldn’t locate the address, so I called Nadia. When I told her where we were, she said that she was on the next block, and, still on the phone, I indicated to Jocelyn that we needed to walk “that way,” when Nadia said, “No, the other way.” She could see us! We turned around and found the building, but then couldn’t figure out how to get in. A big truck was in the driveway, getting worked on by several handsome young men, one of whom saw us poking around and said, “You must be looking for Nadia!” Brooklyn is charming and friendly!

We found our way upstairs and were soon drowning in luscious fabrics and colors and styles and ….!!! Nadia was so sweet and generous; she’ll be coming to the recital on Thursday, so if you want to meet the genius behind the dress, come on by. I ended up with two “every day” type dresses (pictures forth-coming) and a long blush-colored Signature Wrap dress for the recital; Jocelyn chose a deep red long gown and the shorter style in champagne. It felt like Christmas morning!! J summed it up perfectly as we were walking back to the water taxi: “I’ve never felt that way in a dress!” It is easily the most comfortable, sexiest dress we’ve ever worn. Get yourself one, or get one for the lady in your life. You won’t be sorry!

We had time before the taxi, so we got a snack at the lovely Fairway: fresh, precut mango; some manchego cheese; and a bar of Lindt classic dark chocolate. We sat across from each other as the taxi zoomed farther over to Brooklyn and then back to Manhattan, grinning at each other in amazement.

Jocelyn headed off to a concert, and I walked on farther to catch the A at Chambers Street. On the way, my manager called: more good news for next season! Talk about a cherry on the top of an already wonderful day. The weekend will be busy – and probably stressful – with studying and more recital prep, but the joy of this day will get us through.

Like butter

I’m happy to say that I can finally reveal the designer who will be dressing JD and me for the recital: Nadia Tarr, the Brooklyn-based designer of the butter by nadia label. I first saw the Signature Wrap Dress in the window of a boutique near M&E’s house in Park Slope, and I drooled over it for about six months before I finally went in and tried it on. As soon as I did, I knew it was the perfect dress to wear for the Trittico afterparty! A special dress for a special night, right? I splurged and bought it, selecting a plummy satin that was ultimately paired with gold open-toe pumps and a soft pink rose for the (all-too short!) party. (Ok, even though the post-pin-curl hair is terrible, here’s a pic from opening night, pre-rose…)

I was thrilled when Nadia agreed a while back to talk with me about providing us with dresses for the recital. JD wants to buy another one to take on her upcoming Dueck Three concert tour to China, and I want to try on a couple more of the styles in the collection, so she already has us as customers! In fact, we’ll be stopping by her studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn, on Friday night (a preview of Saturday’s sample sale…) to take a gander and do some purchasing. I think I need one of these for summer… And I’m thinking of getting one of the longer “ball gown” style versatile wraps for the recital. Just look at all the ways it can be wrapped! I’m hoping to find a cream or some other soft color – peach? periwinkle? – not too bright for this one, and not black, either.

You can check out the whole collection (and purchase online, too, if you don’t live near enough to Brooklyn…) at bennyandshaw.com. I freaked out a bit when I saw that picture of Naomi Watts wearing “my” dress on the homepage! I guess Ms. Tarr is doing very well!! I’m even more excited that she has agreed to collaborate with us. Hopefully JD and I will have some time to take some pictures of us in our dresses sometime before she jets off to China and I leave for Wolf Trap. Soon, maybe we’ll be the ones featured on the website!

Kitchen Sink

Sorry to keep that vomitous post at the top for so long! It’s been a busy week, and I’ve had a lot on my mind, so a “kitchen sink” post will have to do for today.

Glamorous: As I was tottering home from last night’s Gala in my 3.5 in. heels, a voice came over my left shoulder: “It’s a glamorous life, isn’t it?” It was Tom, the head of the wig department (both here and in Santa Fe), offering a tongue-in-cheek summary of the evening. All dolled up, the work done, heading home in the rain to get some food.

I thought of his comment when I got home and read that Netrebko and Villazon had given another Gala performance last week in Paris. That means they sang (and attended the Gala party afterward) on Wednesday night, flew to NYC on Thursday, rehearsed throughout the day on Friday and Saturday, were fitted for costumes and wigs, had one musical rehearsal with the maestro on Sunday, had ONE shot at a rehearsal with orchestra and chorus on Monday, and sang a very high-profile broadcast performance on Tuesday. Glamorous?! Sounds like a terribly stressful and exhausting life to me.

A perk: I have always thought that a mark of “making it” as a singer would be having designers give me clothes to wear when I sing, in exchange for telling people how much I love them. (The clothes, not the people.) Well, can you believe, it has happened!

Jocelyn suggested a while ago that we approach a young designer about collaborating with us for this recital, dressing us in his or her designs in exchange for blurbs in the program and publicity. It’s a perfect idea, really, totally in keeping with the idea behind the VIM series: new approaches to the “recital” and collaborations between young artists. And what is in more need of a makeover than the staid, stuffy recital dress? So I emailed a designer a few days ago and was thrilled when she responded this morning with a “yes!” Details to come, but you can imagine how excited I am!!

Onstage: Today was the day, the day I first set foot on that venerable stage. We had a three hour Suor rehearsal this morning, and rather than being down in the basement, we were on the stage, on the set. And – oh, man – was it exciting. My fellow “Novice,” in more ways than one, is LW; she and I are both making our debut in this production, and we have been absolutely silly with excitement for weeks now. (She also was an Elf-cover in Helena.) The veterans onstage with us, chorus women as well as the other principles, are very kind to us. They tolerate our giddiness, and often smile at us with a look that says, “I remember my first time.”

Now that I think about it, this really is a special role in which to debut. Mr. O’Brien is making several “teaching moments” out of the early scenes in the opera, instructing the elder nuns to take time to teach us, the Novices, about some history or ritual or even gossip about life in the abbey. He has pointed to us and said, more than once, “They are new here; they don’t know about this.” Or he has told them, “When you sing this to them, remember the first time you learned about it.” And while that is true for our characters in the opera, it is even more true for us, LW and ACB.

There is so much we don’t know about working at the Met. Traditions, secrets, unwritten rules, how to get from Payroll to the Artists’ Area without getting lost. The parallels between LW and ACB, debutantes at the Met, and Sister Who’s It and Sister What’s It (we’re still thinking of our characters’ names…), Novices in the Abbey, are strong. I feel blessed to be having this experience of induction, of instruction, of welcome into this wonderful community. Very blessed.

Bloggity blog blog: My mind has also been occupied this week with thoughts of the blog and its purpose, yet again. I was interested to see the Distracted Dilettante touch upon the idea of “blogging = narcissism,” since someone close to me basically said the same thing this week. I kept quiet here until I knew I had something to say, rather than posting for posting’s sake, and I’m still mulling some things over in my mind on this subject.

Why does it matter for me to share with “the blogosphere” my excitement about wig fittings (today!) and musical rehearsals with James Levine (tomorrow!) or my thoughts on building an opera career? These days, with the Bhakti Project on the table, there is certainly a larger aim: fundraising to pay for a new piece of music. But what about the rest? Is it really just me saying “look how cool I am?” Is it, as I have sometimes thought in the past, a substitute for my much-missed teaching days? Maybe all of the above. All I know at this point is that I’m not ready to stop; this is a community that I enjoy being a part of, and I’m honored to make my contribution.

Tomorrow’s rehearsal excitement? The donkey comes to the abbey! I’ll take pictures…

Also on the piano: A Recital

How long now have I been alluding to this recital project? Far too long, and as my work on the program builds up, I’m finally getting around to writing about it.

The seed for this project was actually planted in May of 2005, so it will be just about two years when it all comes to fruition (somebody knock on wood) on May 17th. Judd Greenstein and I met when we were both Fellows at Tanglewood, and I think we got back in touch when we were both listed on the blogroll at The Rest is Noise. I was in the early planning stages for a CD project (which never happened) and asked Judd if he would be interested in writing me a new song or group of songs to be included. I think the original program theme back then was American song, but I quickly realized that that is a very popular CD theme!

As Judd and I tossed text ideas back and forth, a theme emerged built around Judd’s piece, which I knew I wanted to be the centerpiece of the recital. We moved through Millay’s poetry to the writings of Sufi mystics, only to settle on passages from the Zohar, a central text of Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism. I also knew that I wanted to program some or all of John Harbison’s Mirabai Songs, settings of the ecstatic poetry of a 16th century Krishna devotee, so from these two ideas came the theme: intimacy with Spirit.

By January of this year, the theme and program had pretty much solidified. Here’s what I wrote up for the venue website:

What happens when you take away the trappings of religion and leave behind faith and doubt? How have poets and composers captured the intimacy of a relationship with the Spirit? What is a relationship with the Spirit? Soprano Anne-Carolyn Bird and pianist Jocelyn Dueck present songs pulled from diverse spiritual traditions with an eye toward answering these questions and more. The recital will feature works by Rachmaninoff, Barber, Dallapiccola, Messiaen, and Harbison, as well as folks songs and other native musics. A world-premiere work by Judd Greenstein, - based on texts from the Zohar, the central book of Kabbalah - rounds out this intimate and challenging program.

Oh, and the venue? Also a cool development over the past year. Judd has joined with another Tanglewood alumnus, Kimball Gallagher, to create VIM:TriBeCa, a concert series held in a TriBeCa art gallery. They started with five or six programs scheduled when the inaugural season started in September, and as of now they will present fifteen distinct programs in the 06-07 season. Focusing on new music and young performers, VIM presents concerts at Gallarie Icosahedron, often in conjunction with openings and exhibitions. It’s great to see a new venture like this take off and be so successful right away.

As for the program, entitled “I Have Some Light: Songs of Spirit,” I wanted to try and include as many different voices and spiritual backgrounds as I could. Jocelyn and I could have kept digging and searching and finding new music for years, but I made myself stop and commit! I didn’t find everything I was looking for (I wish I’d found something Islamic or some folk songs in another language), but I’m pretty pleased with the diversity. We’ll have Hindu (Harbison, Mirabai), European Catholic (Barber, Hermit Songs), existential (Messiaen, Poemes pour mi), Russian Orthodox (Rachmaninoff), Spanish mysticism (Dallapiccola), American Protestant (hymns, folk songs), and I consider Bolcom’s “Waitin’” (poem by Arnold Weinstein) to be a beautiful description of the Buddhist search for enlightenment:

Waitin, waitin,
I’ve been waitin, waitin, waitin all my life.
That light keeps on hiding from me,
But it someday just might bless my sight.
Waitin, waitin, waitin

I have a lot of work to do in the next two months to get this program in shape, but I love this project! What a journey it’s been on, and there’s so much more to come. Sounds like life, doesn’t it?