Ok, ok - so I say “I”m back” and then I take ten days off. Lame, I know, but I’ve been kind of at a loss as to how to write about my current working situation.
You see, I’m back at the Met right now, singing a tiny role in Nozze di Figaro and covering Barbarina. It’s been a very strange and, frankly, humbling experience, and I haven’t been sure how to write about it without seeming snobby or ungrateful. I’m still not sure, honestly, but if this blog is about an honest look into my career, I need to try. Bear with me...
It happened like this: when I sang for the Met last winter, they were pretty quick to offer me a great contract with roles and covers that were a clear “step up” from my contract two seasons ago. I was thrilled, obviously, and especially happy to think that they were starting to view me in less of a Solo Bit capacity, and moving me into Supporting territory (even Featured, as in the case of Naiad). Awesome! A step in the right direction.
Then we got an email asking if I would also be available to cover Barbarina and sing a few performances of the soprano Bridesmaid. I was so confused! What happened to my forward progress? I’ve already performed Barbarina, so why would they want me to cover it? How did this offer make sense with the first one?!
At the time, I had a conflicting hold on my schedule for a principal role, so my managers called the holding company to let them know it was time to “fish or cut bait,” as my father would say. They cut bait, sadly, so I was free to accept the additional offer from the Met. (Ironically, the company then called two months later and asked if I was available again. Grr!)
Now, you may be asking why we didn’t just turn down the addendum offer from the Met. I asked that question myself! But the Met is a complicated machine, with MANY working parts that require many other working parts. One of the ways they make sure they have everything covered is to “bundle” contracts like this, particularly with the weekly-salaried singers like me.
In addition, in this financial climate with opera companies cutting productions and fees left and right, how could I turn down six additional weeks of great work? I couldn’t. I was - and am - grateful to be working.
But it has been strange and challenging in so many ways! While it is great to be back in the familiar and memory-laden halls of the Met, it is hard to shift from being the leading lady in other houses to singing a role so small it feels like an afterthought. My ego has had to take a seat for a while... I’m watching rehearsals of the opera I know better than any, watching two roles that I have performed and loved. It’s been hard to turn off the judgmental voice, the one we all have that says “I can do / should be doing that,” and just focus on doing my role in this production, but I’m trying - and succeeding, I hope! One thing’s for sure: it’s given me a new perspective on times when I know Young Artists were watching *me* in rehearsals and probably thinking the same things!
All in all, I’ve had to realize that I’m at a time in my career when sometimes I take the first bow and sometimes the last. Big roles, smaller houses; small roles, bigger houses. It’s all part of the same fabulous art, though, and, in this case, it takes place on the greatest stage in the world.
Showing posts with label rehearsal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rehearsal. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Big weekend
As is often the case with concert performances, all of the elements are coming together at the last minute. With our concert tomorrow night, we will spend this afternoon doing a room run, fitting Mr. Alexander into the minimal staging we’ve worked out (and trying to remember it ourselves! We’ve only had one rehearsal for each act...). This evening we’ll caravan into DC for the Sitzprobe with the National Symphony at the Kennedy Center; I think our rehearsal might be on the stage, which will be all kinds of awesome. Tomorrow morning we’ll do a sound check; since the Filene Center is a large (huge) amphitheater, we’ll all be miked, which takes a little pressure off getting those low- and middle-voice passages out. I’m never worried about my high notes being heard! God bless formants... Then in the afternoon, we’ll have a “dress rehearsal,” which will mostly involved checking entrances and exits and who does what with which chairs. Then... showtime!
Needless to say, I won’t be singing every line at every rehearsal. Having a fresh voice for the show is most important, but there will be a few other times I’ll want to sing out. I’ll probably sing Glitter at both the room run and the Sitz; I’m very confident now that I “have it,” but it won’t hurt my confidence to get two more runs under my belt. The room run will also be my only chance to try my blocking in my (very tight and slinky) dress! Gotta make sure I can roll around on that row of chairs as melodramatically as I’d like...
Getting Glitter up to snuff - or, rather, up to my own very high standard - has been a process. For those of you who don’t know the aria, it is one of the more manic coloratura arias, building in frenzy and ending with a series of sustained high notes, climaxing at an e-flat. Now, I think you know how I feel about high notes that have “e” in the name... They have been my Great White Whale. I still don’t feel great about the e-natural, but I think I have tamed the e-flat! As long as I keep myself completely in the moment, singing and acting, I’m fine, but as soon as I step outside myself and start listening to the note, the tone quality changes. Less vibrant, less supported. Having B’s ears here has really helped, as I trust him to tell me the truth and to help me navigate through any issues. Each time I’ve sung the aria, I have felt more and more confident. I think it’s ready to go!
I was lucky enough to coach this with Erie Mills, who sang the role under Bernstein’s baton many times, and she had lots of helpful and encouraging things to share. The one I will be holding onto most strongly this weekend is this: let the orchestra convey the mania of the piece. They are going to be blasting at full steam, full of energy and excitement. All I have to do is ride the wave. If I can stay relatively calm, Cunegonde’s mania will definitely still come through in the brilliant mix of orchestration and singing. I don’t have to add any real hysteria to the mix!
Wish me luck, and pray that it doesn’t rain tomorrow!!
Needless to say, I won’t be singing every line at every rehearsal. Having a fresh voice for the show is most important, but there will be a few other times I’ll want to sing out. I’ll probably sing Glitter at both the room run and the Sitz; I’m very confident now that I “have it,” but it won’t hurt my confidence to get two more runs under my belt. The room run will also be my only chance to try my blocking in my (very tight and slinky) dress! Gotta make sure I can roll around on that row of chairs as melodramatically as I’d like...
Getting Glitter up to snuff - or, rather, up to my own very high standard - has been a process. For those of you who don’t know the aria, it is one of the more manic coloratura arias, building in frenzy and ending with a series of sustained high notes, climaxing at an e-flat. Now, I think you know how I feel about high notes that have “e” in the name... They have been my Great White Whale. I still don’t feel great about the e-natural, but I think I have tamed the e-flat! As long as I keep myself completely in the moment, singing and acting, I’m fine, but as soon as I step outside myself and start listening to the note, the tone quality changes. Less vibrant, less supported. Having B’s ears here has really helped, as I trust him to tell me the truth and to help me navigate through any issues. Each time I’ve sung the aria, I have felt more and more confident. I think it’s ready to go!
I was lucky enough to coach this with Erie Mills, who sang the role under Bernstein’s baton many times, and she had lots of helpful and encouraging things to share. The one I will be holding onto most strongly this weekend is this: let the orchestra convey the mania of the piece. They are going to be blasting at full steam, full of energy and excitement. All I have to do is ride the wave. If I can stay relatively calm, Cunegonde’s mania will definitely still come through in the brilliant mix of orchestration and singing. I don’t have to add any real hysteria to the mix!
Wish me luck, and pray that it doesn’t rain tomorrow!!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Full steam ahead
Dear friends:
The show’s going well in Dayton. The Figaro is so dreamy, I just can’t stand it! This is the best Figaro EVER and did I mention that the Figaro is really good?!?
Ok, so the above paragraph was dictated by Andrew Garland, my fabulous Figaro here in Dayton. (I’ve been lucky enough to have back-to-back fabulous Figaro’s!) We are all here at “our coffeeshop,” on a break after a very useful rehearsal in which we all ran through our recitatives, working to get the flow going and to get past the “what words and notes am I supposed to sing here?” stage to “let’s communicate and tell a story here!”
I have to say, the hardest part of learning this role in two months has been really getting the language into my head, getting past the long-vowels and double-consonants stage. With Susanna, I carried around those papers with my texts on them for weeks - months, even - until I knew my lines forward and back. It’s been a bit of cram this time around… I finally had to just let go of the thinking and jump to the feeling. Once I put my book or my cheat sheets down, I’m free to really connect with my colleagues on-stage, to find the natural connection of one line to the next, rather than just trying to remember what comes next!
I’m also still building the character - who is Rosina? I’m going to write a post exclusively on this topic to cross post over on the DO blog, but I will say here that it has been a real challenge to get Mozart’s Countess out of my mind. (The Countess in Nozze is Rosina, five years or so after the events of Barber take place…) The way we have the finale of Barber staged, there is even a moment of staging that is a “flash forward” to a moment in Nozze; I find the (unintentional) symmetry beautiful.
Today: an afternoon working session, hitting on some things in Act I that need finesse, and then tonight we “stumble through” the show. A day off tomorrow, then another stumble through on Saturday morning and the Sitz Saturday afternoon. I can not wait to get with the orchestra for this one!
A teaser: by the end of the 08-09 season, I will have repeated a role!! Boy, am I ever looking forward to that experience...
The show’s going well in Dayton. The Figaro is so dreamy, I just can’t stand it! This is the best Figaro EVER and did I mention that the Figaro is really good?!?
Ok, so the above paragraph was dictated by Andrew Garland, my fabulous Figaro here in Dayton. (I’ve been lucky enough to have back-to-back fabulous Figaro’s!) We are all here at “our coffeeshop,” on a break after a very useful rehearsal in which we all ran through our recitatives, working to get the flow going and to get past the “what words and notes am I supposed to sing here?” stage to “let’s communicate and tell a story here!”
I have to say, the hardest part of learning this role in two months has been really getting the language into my head, getting past the long-vowels and double-consonants stage. With Susanna, I carried around those papers with my texts on them for weeks - months, even - until I knew my lines forward and back. It’s been a bit of cram this time around… I finally had to just let go of the thinking and jump to the feeling. Once I put my book or my cheat sheets down, I’m free to really connect with my colleagues on-stage, to find the natural connection of one line to the next, rather than just trying to remember what comes next!
I’m also still building the character - who is Rosina? I’m going to write a post exclusively on this topic to cross post over on the DO blog, but I will say here that it has been a real challenge to get Mozart’s Countess out of my mind. (The Countess in Nozze is Rosina, five years or so after the events of Barber take place…) The way we have the finale of Barber staged, there is even a moment of staging that is a “flash forward” to a moment in Nozze; I find the (unintentional) symmetry beautiful.
Today: an afternoon working session, hitting on some things in Act I that need finesse, and then tonight we “stumble through” the show. A day off tomorrow, then another stumble through on Saturday morning and the Sitz Saturday afternoon. I can not wait to get with the orchestra for this one!
A teaser: by the end of the 08-09 season, I will have repeated a role!! Boy, am I ever looking forward to that experience...
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Let's start at the very beginning
I've been asked to contribute to the Dayton Opera Artists' blog, and what follows is my first post. It was interesting to write a "get-to-know-you piece," of a sorts, rather than just building on my established relationship with the the blogosphere... I hope I found a good balance, and hopefully I'll introduce a few new folks to the glory of the opera blog world!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rehearsals have begun! Today we started getting Barber up on its feet, yet we spent nine hours together before we started the staging process.
The first three were spent in “table talk,” a conversation led by our director, Gary Briggle, which took us through topics like characters relationships, what sort of story we’re hoping to tell; and how exactly we hope to tell that story. For my character, Rosina, this led to questions like “How did she come to be the ward of Don Bartolo?” and “What is her friendship with Figaro like?” and “How does her attraction to and intention for the Count change over the course of the opera?” This is the sort of conversation and work that is crucial to good honest story-telling on-stage, but due to short rehearsal periods, it is so often skipped over. What a joy to start off with this level of detail work! It felt so indulgent! It was also a great way for us all to get to know each other a bit before we started the business of being friends and adversaries and lovers on stage.
Another thing Gary asked each of us was how we are hoping to define a success in our work here with this production. What a wonderful question! I am the only member of the principal cast who is performing their role for the first time, so my idea of “success” has everything to do with the music. There are so many notes, and so many ornamentations and fancy outbursts (often called “cadenzas”) that are “traditional” or “stylistic,” and, frankly, they are a bit intimidating! I will feel that I have given a successful interpretation of Rosina if every one of those cadenzas is inspired by the emotion Rosina feels at the moment or is motivated by the action she is carrying out. I am looking forward to discovering the emotions and motivations behind all of those little black dots...
And speaking of little black dots, the other six hours were spent in music rehearsals with our “maestro,” Neil Gittleman. In a masterful example of efficient time management, we worked our way through the entire opera in two rehearsals! With an opera like Barber in which there is a vast history of “performance practice,” it is so important to take the time to make sure the singers and the conductor are on the same page: what ornament are you singing here? what tempo do we want there? how do we get from here to there? what cuts are we doing? We found a lot of answers and established a great foundation that we can build on as we work through staging.
For me, singing all this with colleagues for the first time, it was a great opportunity to see which spots need a bit more attention! As would be expected, there are a handful of moments when Rosina and Almaviva sing very intricate lines together, expressing their excitement and desire for each other. It was so fun - and a little terrifying! - to sing those with John, hearing the potential for an absolutely thrilling musical experience. Everyone is being very supportive and patient with me as I work out my routines. They all sang their roles for the first time once, too, so everyone understands my nerves!
As rehearsals progress, these moments that are new will become familiar, nerves will give way to excitement and fear to joy! Stay tuned…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rehearsals have begun! Today we started getting Barber up on its feet, yet we spent nine hours together before we started the staging process.
The first three were spent in “table talk,” a conversation led by our director, Gary Briggle, which took us through topics like characters relationships, what sort of story we’re hoping to tell; and how exactly we hope to tell that story. For my character, Rosina, this led to questions like “How did she come to be the ward of Don Bartolo?” and “What is her friendship with Figaro like?” and “How does her attraction to and intention for the Count change over the course of the opera?” This is the sort of conversation and work that is crucial to good honest story-telling on-stage, but due to short rehearsal periods, it is so often skipped over. What a joy to start off with this level of detail work! It felt so indulgent! It was also a great way for us all to get to know each other a bit before we started the business of being friends and adversaries and lovers on stage.
Another thing Gary asked each of us was how we are hoping to define a success in our work here with this production. What a wonderful question! I am the only member of the principal cast who is performing their role for the first time, so my idea of “success” has everything to do with the music. There are so many notes, and so many ornamentations and fancy outbursts (often called “cadenzas”) that are “traditional” or “stylistic,” and, frankly, they are a bit intimidating! I will feel that I have given a successful interpretation of Rosina if every one of those cadenzas is inspired by the emotion Rosina feels at the moment or is motivated by the action she is carrying out. I am looking forward to discovering the emotions and motivations behind all of those little black dots...
And speaking of little black dots, the other six hours were spent in music rehearsals with our “maestro,” Neil Gittleman. In a masterful example of efficient time management, we worked our way through the entire opera in two rehearsals! With an opera like Barber in which there is a vast history of “performance practice,” it is so important to take the time to make sure the singers and the conductor are on the same page: what ornament are you singing here? what tempo do we want there? how do we get from here to there? what cuts are we doing? We found a lot of answers and established a great foundation that we can build on as we work through staging.
For me, singing all this with colleagues for the first time, it was a great opportunity to see which spots need a bit more attention! As would be expected, there are a handful of moments when Rosina and Almaviva sing very intricate lines together, expressing their excitement and desire for each other. It was so fun - and a little terrifying! - to sing those with John, hearing the potential for an absolutely thrilling musical experience. Everyone is being very supportive and patient with me as I work out my routines. They all sang their roles for the first time once, too, so everyone understands my nerves!
As rehearsals progress, these moments that are new will become familiar, nerves will give way to excitement and fear to joy! Stay tuned…
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
My First Time
The sun is out in a blue sky for the first time in weeks, and the sparkling snow is a sight to behold! The ice fishermen are back on the lake behind the house, and the cardinals and finches and sparrows and the lone mourning dove are causing a ruckus, fighting over the feeders outside my window. A beautiful winter day.
Tonight is our final dress rehearsal, and our first time with an audience! We should have a fairly full house of local high school and college students, as well and friends and family of cast and crew. I’m pretty excited, and more than a little nervous. My hands have been clammy all day, my one “tell” of nerves. They’ll dry up once we’re up and running, but my poor Figaro, who will have to kiss them in our first scene! Nothing says “romance” like clammy hands...
Yesterday it really sunk in that I’m doing all of this - this role, this opera - for the first time. That while I’m struggling to remember all my lines and develop my character and her relationships with the others, I will get to do it all again someday. When the curtain comes down Saturday night, it’s not *really* over; all the hard work will pay off again in future productions. (I say all this assuming and hoping that I’ll get hired to sing another Susanna!) So I can relax a little. Sure, I want to get as many things “just right” as possible, but this role will grow with me for years.
In order to get as much right this time around, however, I’ve developed a bit of a routine. In the past few run-through rehearsals, when ever I come offstage for more than two minutes, I go to my dressing room and make notes of the things I missed or messed up. There are certain lines that for some reason will not stick in my head! I fell asleep last night reciting one of them over and over: “Voliamo ed informar d’ogni avventura…” I will not miss that one tonight! I then review those notes, and the ones from previous nights, before going on the next time. I had more time offstage than I thought, plenty of time to recollect myself and refocus, should I get out of the zone.
I’ll try to write more tomorrow night, after a day off spent with friends and doing a bit of rehearsing for the UofM recording. Off to study a bit before dinner and the show!!
Tonight is our final dress rehearsal, and our first time with an audience! We should have a fairly full house of local high school and college students, as well and friends and family of cast and crew. I’m pretty excited, and more than a little nervous. My hands have been clammy all day, my one “tell” of nerves. They’ll dry up once we’re up and running, but my poor Figaro, who will have to kiss them in our first scene! Nothing says “romance” like clammy hands...
Yesterday it really sunk in that I’m doing all of this - this role, this opera - for the first time. That while I’m struggling to remember all my lines and develop my character and her relationships with the others, I will get to do it all again someday. When the curtain comes down Saturday night, it’s not *really* over; all the hard work will pay off again in future productions. (I say all this assuming and hoping that I’ll get hired to sing another Susanna!) So I can relax a little. Sure, I want to get as many things “just right” as possible, but this role will grow with me for years.
In order to get as much right this time around, however, I’ve developed a bit of a routine. In the past few run-through rehearsals, when ever I come offstage for more than two minutes, I go to my dressing room and make notes of the things I missed or messed up. There are certain lines that for some reason will not stick in my head! I fell asleep last night reciting one of them over and over: “Voliamo ed informar d’ogni avventura…” I will not miss that one tonight! I then review those notes, and the ones from previous nights, before going on the next time. I had more time offstage than I thought, plenty of time to recollect myself and refocus, should I get out of the zone.
I’ll try to write more tomorrow night, after a day off spent with friends and doing a bit of rehearsing for the UofM recording. Off to study a bit before dinner and the show!!
Monday, February 11, 2008
Status updates
ACB…
… loves reading about people she knows in major publications.
… also loves it when her friends win Grammys!!!
… wore leg warmers today. In a non-ironic sense. To a donor brunch at a country club.
… was reminded yet again of the power of the Sitzprobe.
… is proud of Leon Fleisher.
… is grateful for a good cast, sweet friends, and strangers who go out of their way to say kind things because they “thought you should know.”
… still really misses her Granddaddy.
… loves the cold, but not the ice.
… is grateful to her father for teaching her to drive in bad weather.
… is hoping against all odds to find a sassy dress for opening night somewhere in the greater Grand Rapids area.
… has a big To Do list this week, but has time To Do things.
… can’t wait for her day off!!
… loves reading about people she knows in major publications.
… also loves it when her friends win Grammys!!!
… wore leg warmers today. In a non-ironic sense. To a donor brunch at a country club.
… was reminded yet again of the power of the Sitzprobe.
… is proud of Leon Fleisher.
… is grateful for a good cast, sweet friends, and strangers who go out of their way to say kind things because they “thought you should know.”
… still really misses her Granddaddy.
… loves the cold, but not the ice.
… is grateful to her father for teaching her to drive in bad weather.
… is hoping against all odds to find a sassy dress for opening night somewhere in the greater Grand Rapids area.
… has a big To Do list this week, but has time To Do things.
… can’t wait for her day off!!
Saturday, February 09, 2008
A party
Today I’ve been repeating to myself a line that I heard in several acting classes: “Self-pity doesn’t read onstage.” Or something like that. The idea being that if you are going to choose an emotion (or, preferably, an action) to play onstage, no one wants to watch you be sorry for yourself. This little lesson had nothing to do with Susanna or Rosina or any character studies, but rather with the little pity party I kept trying to have today. (In truth, it started yesterday; ask my colleagues…) I talked myself out of it eventually, but it was rough going for a while.
It was a hard day, I’m not going to lie. Last night we did our first (and final before tech rehearsals) run-through of the show, wrapping up at 10:30. I came home to try to calm down the brain and sleep; I think was out by 1am. I then got up at 6:30 this morning to drive to Ann Arbor (two-ish hours away) for a rehearsal with the orchestra there, our only rehearsal before the recording sessions on the 17th & 18th. I left at 12:30 to get back to Grand Rapids by 3 for one last working rehearsal. I made it to all my rehearsals on time, mostly (I got a little lost in Ann Arbor), but I was not at my best at the orchestra rehearsal. No where near it.
The drive home was pretty miserable, as I was berating myself for not delivering a flawless product at the rehearsal. I did a lot to prepare, but there is always more that I could have done. I left feeling like I had to make excuses for myself, and that is not a feeling I am used to. I was tired, weary, and wondering how I managed to so overload myself. Um, well, I said yes! And so I have to deliver. No one wants to hear me complain about having too much work to do, and none of my employers want to feel that my work for them is less important than my other work. If I say I’m going to do something, I have to do it. If I over-commit, I still have to figure out a way to get it done.
My colleagues were very sweet to ask how my rehearsal went, and I told myself going in that I could be honest but that I had nothing to complain about. I got myself in this situation, and I’ll do my best, but no one needs to hear how tired I am or how many entrances I missed. (Well, I guess you’re hearing it now, in a sense…) We managed to have a fun afternoon, putting finishing touches on some complex scenes (there are one or two in this opera), and then we all went our separate ways for quiet nights in our TH's.
Getting the job done starts with making sure my voice is healthy, so tonight I’ve rested: lots of water, a steamy shower, and I haven’t talked to anyone except to get briefed on the laundry by my hostess (who is a singer and voice teacher) and get some tips on streaming tv shows online from MR. (That’s four...) Tomorrow afternoon we have our Sitzprobe, an important rehearsal to be healthy for, and then we start tech week.
All of our rehearsals next week are in the evening, so during the day? I will be studying.
It was a hard day, I’m not going to lie. Last night we did our first (and final before tech rehearsals) run-through of the show, wrapping up at 10:30. I came home to try to calm down the brain and sleep; I think was out by 1am. I then got up at 6:30 this morning to drive to Ann Arbor (two-ish hours away) for a rehearsal with the orchestra there, our only rehearsal before the recording sessions on the 17th & 18th. I left at 12:30 to get back to Grand Rapids by 3 for one last working rehearsal. I made it to all my rehearsals on time, mostly (I got a little lost in Ann Arbor), but I was not at my best at the orchestra rehearsal. No where near it.
The drive home was pretty miserable, as I was berating myself for not delivering a flawless product at the rehearsal. I did a lot to prepare, but there is always more that I could have done. I left feeling like I had to make excuses for myself, and that is not a feeling I am used to. I was tired, weary, and wondering how I managed to so overload myself. Um, well, I said yes! And so I have to deliver. No one wants to hear me complain about having too much work to do, and none of my employers want to feel that my work for them is less important than my other work. If I say I’m going to do something, I have to do it. If I over-commit, I still have to figure out a way to get it done.
My colleagues were very sweet to ask how my rehearsal went, and I told myself going in that I could be honest but that I had nothing to complain about. I got myself in this situation, and I’ll do my best, but no one needs to hear how tired I am or how many entrances I missed. (Well, I guess you’re hearing it now, in a sense…) We managed to have a fun afternoon, putting finishing touches on some complex scenes (there are one or two in this opera), and then we all went our separate ways for quiet nights in our TH's.
Getting the job done starts with making sure my voice is healthy, so tonight I’ve rested: lots of water, a steamy shower, and I haven’t talked to anyone except to get briefed on the laundry by my hostess (who is a singer and voice teacher) and get some tips on streaming tv shows online from MR. (That’s four...) Tomorrow afternoon we have our Sitzprobe, an important rehearsal to be healthy for, and then we start tech week.
All of our rehearsals next week are in the evening, so during the day? I will be studying.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Cures
Two sure-fire ways to cheer ones’ self up at the end of a long and tiring day: I can haz cheesburger and an iChat filled with laughter.
A hot shower to relax the tight muscles, and now into bed for a good sleep. I guess that’s a total of four cures… a long-day drug cocktail, if you will. Add a bourbon or a nice piece of chocolate and we’re nearing perfection.
But, in truth, the laughter was enough.
A hot shower to relax the tight muscles, and now into bed for a good sleep. I guess that’s a total of four cures… a long-day drug cocktail, if you will. Add a bourbon or a nice piece of chocolate and we’re nearing perfection.
But, in truth, the laughter was enough.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Notes on Rehearsal
* Clothes make the maid: About thirty minutes into rehearsal on Saturday, I noticed that my stance and my walk were very “un-Susanna.” They were very modern; sassy, and not in the quick-witted-maid sense. I quickly figured out that is was due in large part to the fact that I had forgotten to put on my rehearsal skirt. I had never really paid much attention to the importance of a rehearsal skirt, preferring to inhabit the character without the aid of costumes and such. But when wearing my favorite black skinny jeans, the ones that really make me feel like a rock star, I just couldn’t seem to shake the “attitude” they give me. After putting on the full white tea-length rehearsal skirt, however, Susanna’s stance was back: weight evenly on both feet, posture firm but subservient. Even my interactions with Figaro were more “period appropriate,” less modern. Boleslawski wouldn’t like it, but I apparently need my rehearsal skirt in order to be Susanna.
* Fixin’ Diction: We don’t have a prompter or Italian coach here, so it’s up to us to come to agreements on things like how to navigate notes with more than one vowel sound. Our maestro helps, of course, but sometimes we can fix it ourselves, even without talking. (I’m not sure I can really explain this in words; it might be a “you had to be there” moment, but I’ll try…)
In the Act II Finale, there is a moment when Figaro, Susanna, and the Countess say together “how will this end?” - “com’ha da finir?” There are rests between the words, so it’s kind of like this: “com / / ha / / da / / finir” The first time we sang it (in a staging rehearsal), Figaro and I noticed that we were putting the M at the end of “com” in different places: I before the rests and he after. We sing the line twice; the first time we exchanged a look that said, “Wait, did you just…?” The second time, the look was “Oh yes, you did; we’d better fix that!” But when we paused, we got busy with staging stuff and didn’t get a chance to discuss it.
I did check in with our Countess, though, to see what she was singing. She was with me, putting the M on the end of “com,” and we were fairly confident that we were right. (Of course! FG, care to verify?) We ran the scene again, and when we got to that line, Figaro gave me a look: “Oh, we didn’t fix this!” My look back said, “I did!” The repeat of the line came and we both turned to the Countess, who pronounced the line together with me. Still singing, Figaro snapped his fingers and gave us a look that said, “Rats! Outnumbered!” and we all carried on, smiling.
It was really a sweet moment of nonverbal communication and collaboration, one that wouldn’t have been possible if we weren’t enjoying working together so much. This is a great cast, and we’re all having a ball. A bit of a stressed ball, but a ball nonetheless.
* Flashbacks: When we got together in NYC and ran through things (Count, Countess, Figaro, and I), singing through the Act IV Finale brought back some beautiful memories. First, the bittersweet moments as Barbarina, saying goodbye to Cherubino during “Tutti contenti…” (In the Met's Miller staging, Barbarina and Cherubino don’t end up together.) But then, when the music shifted to the upbeat final section - “In contenti e in allegria” - I was suddenly transported to the woods of Vienna, VA, where we used that music as the opening to our Instant Opera programs! I never had this flashback during the Figaro’s at the Met, though, because there I was singing Barbarina’s line, and at Wolf Trap I sang Susanna’s! It was a wonderful stroll down memory lane.
There was another flashback tonight, when I overheard our Barbarina singing her aria. That will be a special aria for me for a long time, I think. I was taken back to the dimly lit stage, to the warm lights coming from the orchestra pit, seeing Mo. Jordan on the podium and the beautiful Met house behind him, hearing Bryn’s quiet “Barbarina, cos’hai?” My opera career is just beginning, so I know these moments of “flashback” are going to start overlapping, running together as I do repeated productions. Yet I can’t help but think that those moments, those sweet, dream-like moments of late 2007, will always be special.
* Fixin’ Diction: We don’t have a prompter or Italian coach here, so it’s up to us to come to agreements on things like how to navigate notes with more than one vowel sound. Our maestro helps, of course, but sometimes we can fix it ourselves, even without talking. (I’m not sure I can really explain this in words; it might be a “you had to be there” moment, but I’ll try…)
In the Act II Finale, there is a moment when Figaro, Susanna, and the Countess say together “how will this end?” - “com’ha da finir?” There are rests between the words, so it’s kind of like this: “com / / ha / / da / / finir” The first time we sang it (in a staging rehearsal), Figaro and I noticed that we were putting the M at the end of “com” in different places: I before the rests and he after. We sing the line twice; the first time we exchanged a look that said, “Wait, did you just…?” The second time, the look was “Oh yes, you did; we’d better fix that!” But when we paused, we got busy with staging stuff and didn’t get a chance to discuss it.
I did check in with our Countess, though, to see what she was singing. She was with me, putting the M on the end of “com,” and we were fairly confident that we were right. (Of course! FG, care to verify?) We ran the scene again, and when we got to that line, Figaro gave me a look: “Oh, we didn’t fix this!” My look back said, “I did!” The repeat of the line came and we both turned to the Countess, who pronounced the line together with me. Still singing, Figaro snapped his fingers and gave us a look that said, “Rats! Outnumbered!” and we all carried on, smiling.
It was really a sweet moment of nonverbal communication and collaboration, one that wouldn’t have been possible if we weren’t enjoying working together so much. This is a great cast, and we’re all having a ball. A bit of a stressed ball, but a ball nonetheless.
* Flashbacks: When we got together in NYC and ran through things (Count, Countess, Figaro, and I), singing through the Act IV Finale brought back some beautiful memories. First, the bittersweet moments as Barbarina, saying goodbye to Cherubino during “Tutti contenti…” (In the Met's Miller staging, Barbarina and Cherubino don’t end up together.) But then, when the music shifted to the upbeat final section - “In contenti e in allegria” - I was suddenly transported to the woods of Vienna, VA, where we used that music as the opening to our Instant Opera programs! I never had this flashback during the Figaro’s at the Met, though, because there I was singing Barbarina’s line, and at Wolf Trap I sang Susanna’s! It was a wonderful stroll down memory lane.
There was another flashback tonight, when I overheard our Barbarina singing her aria. That will be a special aria for me for a long time, I think. I was taken back to the dimly lit stage, to the warm lights coming from the orchestra pit, seeing Mo. Jordan on the podium and the beautiful Met house behind him, hearing Bryn’s quiet “Barbarina, cos’hai?” My opera career is just beginning, so I know these moments of “flashback” are going to start overlapping, running together as I do repeated productions. Yet I can’t help but think that those moments, those sweet, dream-like moments of late 2007, will always be special.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
There and Back Again
Much against my will, I’m writing this from the terminal at the Grand Rapids airport.
Don’t worry - I didn’t get fired! It was always part of the plan that I would have to go back to NYC for about 36 hours to cover the final performance of Hansel & Gretel, but I couldn’t be more reluctant to leave.
Even in three days, we’ve hit a stride as cast and crew that feels very natural and fun. Our rehearsal period is short for this production (just about two weeks before tech week), and everyone is very focused and a bit wired, knowing what a big job it is to put this opera together in so little time! Character relationships are building up layer by layer, and we’re getting the detailed staging into our bodies and minds. Inside jokes are already starting to pop up, and even under pressure rehearsals are fun. When I left this evening, we’d finished up Act I and started Act II, stopping just before Cherubino’s aria. Not bad for three days!
Of course, the blizzard (was that a blizzard?) that hit last night has thrown a bit of a wrench into my plans. I’ll be a bit late getting out of GRR, but should still be able to make my connection at O’Hare. By the time I post this, of course, I’ll be home one way or another, turning back around early Friday morning to make it back for a 3pm rehearsal. Cospetto! Wish me luck…
**Updated** I made it, obviously, seven hours after the journey began. (ight? how do I figure that brief sojourn to Central Time?). You wouldn’t be reading this otherwise… I almost missed my connection in Chicago, which would have been fine, I think. A good excuse to see a friend. But, in any case, I’m home. Time for a steamy shower and a nice long sleep in my own bed. Tomorrow will be filled with errands and Barber recits, dinner with LW and maybe a drink with JD. Sweet dreams, all!
Don’t worry - I didn’t get fired! It was always part of the plan that I would have to go back to NYC for about 36 hours to cover the final performance of Hansel & Gretel, but I couldn’t be more reluctant to leave.
Even in three days, we’ve hit a stride as cast and crew that feels very natural and fun. Our rehearsal period is short for this production (just about two weeks before tech week), and everyone is very focused and a bit wired, knowing what a big job it is to put this opera together in so little time! Character relationships are building up layer by layer, and we’re getting the detailed staging into our bodies and minds. Inside jokes are already starting to pop up, and even under pressure rehearsals are fun. When I left this evening, we’d finished up Act I and started Act II, stopping just before Cherubino’s aria. Not bad for three days!
Of course, the blizzard (was that a blizzard?) that hit last night has thrown a bit of a wrench into my plans. I’ll be a bit late getting out of GRR, but should still be able to make my connection at O’Hare. By the time I post this, of course, I’ll be home one way or another, turning back around early Friday morning to make it back for a 3pm rehearsal. Cospetto! Wish me luck…
**Updated** I made it, obviously, seven hours after the journey began. (ight? how do I figure that brief sojourn to Central Time?). You wouldn’t be reading this otherwise… I almost missed my connection in Chicago, which would have been fine, I think. A good excuse to see a friend. But, in any case, I’m home. Time for a steamy shower and a nice long sleep in my own bed. Tomorrow will be filled with errands and Barber recits, dinner with LW and maybe a drink with JD. Sweet dreams, all!
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Music! Words! Opera!
Ok, here’s the “other post” mentioned below; I figured I should just write it while the juices were flowing! I’ve already explained how I deal with the text while learning a role, so here’s a bit of the musical side of things. (Title of the post borrowed from the Opera America program for opera education in schools...)
With this opera (Le nozze di Figaro; maybe I’ve mentioned that?), I am already very familiar with a lot of the general “tunes.” This has come about through years of hearing bits of the opera, specifically the past two months of working on it at the Met. While I was getting my hair and makeup done every night, I would turn the stage monitor up and follow along in my score or in my text/translation print-out. Not singing, just listening, and not even listening in great detail. I was listening for style, for general phrasing and shaping, for orchestration and harmony. (Of course, some nights I just gabbed with C & K, my hair and makeup guys!)
I know people talk a lot about learning by listening and how it's a bad idea, but this isn’t what they mean. I am not learning the role of Susanna by singing along with a recording and mimicking what I hear. I’m a better musician than that. I am not, however, a good enough musician to play all of the score or all of the other parts along with myself as I practice, so for understanding the larger framework of the piece, I listen. Sue me.
Most of my time, though, is spent at the piano. For musical numbers (as opposed to recits), I generally start by reading (singing) through the piece once. This shows me what I already know and which spots need attention. Then I sit down and work it out. For this type of studying, the working-it-out part, I often sing my line a full octave down. Why? Singing unfamiliar music in a high tessitura (where the notes sit in the voice) can be really taxing. Higher notes generally require more support and it’s harder to concentrate on support when you don’t know exactly what notes you’re supposed to be singing. I hark back to my “2nd Alto Section Leader” days and just let those low notes out!
After I feel confident that I know the “tune,” I take it back up to it’s proper octave and sing through it again, doing my best to sing with full voice and full support. To accompany myself, I usually play as much of the bass line as possible; this is the foundation of the harmony, after all, so it provides me with the most important harmonic information.
All of the above applies to the non-recit stuff. The style of recitative is so different, mostly because the element of counting is essentially removed. I just sing in the rhythm and tempo of my (Susanna’s) speech, and, as you know, every night it can be different. In order to get to that point (the point at which I can really play with the words) I do spend some time going over syllables pedantically and really concentrating on the verbs, gradually speeding up until the words just flow. Every new line of recit that feels fully comfortable in my mouth and voice feels like a little victory!
Once I know the notes, I start working with coaches, putting on the polish: fine-tuning diction, shaping specific phrases, and interacting with another person in recits and ensembles. Most coaches can sing every part in an opera once they’ve studied it (in whatever octave they prefer, generally low!), so the recits start to feel like conversations and ensembles start to feel ensemble. Then the sessions I mentioned scheduling with DN, my so-called “run sessions,” will focus less on detail work and more on just repeating the music several times over, working it into the muscles of my instrument: body, voice, and mind.
This weekend I’m going to set memorization goals, although I have a feeling things will become memorized as I repeat them. Best to have a date set to double check that, though! Add to all of this those “pick-up” sessions with a full cast, and I’ll have it made! Come January 28, I’ll be ready to play.
With this opera (Le nozze di Figaro; maybe I’ve mentioned that?), I am already very familiar with a lot of the general “tunes.” This has come about through years of hearing bits of the opera, specifically the past two months of working on it at the Met. While I was getting my hair and makeup done every night, I would turn the stage monitor up and follow along in my score or in my text/translation print-out. Not singing, just listening, and not even listening in great detail. I was listening for style, for general phrasing and shaping, for orchestration and harmony. (Of course, some nights I just gabbed with C & K, my hair and makeup guys!)
I know people talk a lot about learning by listening and how it's a bad idea, but this isn’t what they mean. I am not learning the role of Susanna by singing along with a recording and mimicking what I hear. I’m a better musician than that. I am not, however, a good enough musician to play all of the score or all of the other parts along with myself as I practice, so for understanding the larger framework of the piece, I listen. Sue me.
Most of my time, though, is spent at the piano. For musical numbers (as opposed to recits), I generally start by reading (singing) through the piece once. This shows me what I already know and which spots need attention. Then I sit down and work it out. For this type of studying, the working-it-out part, I often sing my line a full octave down. Why? Singing unfamiliar music in a high tessitura (where the notes sit in the voice) can be really taxing. Higher notes generally require more support and it’s harder to concentrate on support when you don’t know exactly what notes you’re supposed to be singing. I hark back to my “2nd Alto Section Leader” days and just let those low notes out!
After I feel confident that I know the “tune,” I take it back up to it’s proper octave and sing through it again, doing my best to sing with full voice and full support. To accompany myself, I usually play as much of the bass line as possible; this is the foundation of the harmony, after all, so it provides me with the most important harmonic information.
All of the above applies to the non-recit stuff. The style of recitative is so different, mostly because the element of counting is essentially removed. I just sing in the rhythm and tempo of my (Susanna’s) speech, and, as you know, every night it can be different. In order to get to that point (the point at which I can really play with the words) I do spend some time going over syllables pedantically and really concentrating on the verbs, gradually speeding up until the words just flow. Every new line of recit that feels fully comfortable in my mouth and voice feels like a little victory!
Once I know the notes, I start working with coaches, putting on the polish: fine-tuning diction, shaping specific phrases, and interacting with another person in recits and ensembles. Most coaches can sing every part in an opera once they’ve studied it (in whatever octave they prefer, generally low!), so the recits start to feel like conversations and ensembles start to feel ensemble. Then the sessions I mentioned scheduling with DN, my so-called “run sessions,” will focus less on detail work and more on just repeating the music several times over, working it into the muscles of my instrument: body, voice, and mind.
This weekend I’m going to set memorization goals, although I have a feeling things will become memorized as I repeat them. Best to have a date set to double check that, though! Add to all of this those “pick-up” sessions with a full cast, and I’ll have it made! Come January 28, I’ll be ready to play.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Focusing the Body
During an early staging rehearsal for Figaro, after I finished up a scene I sat back down next to a member of the cover cast. A singer I’ve admired for a while, she said, “So... how long did you dance?”
It seems my dancing days are still evident, not just when I’m dancing, but in the general way I “act” on stage. I’m not talking about having a good carriage or being graceful; she could see my “inner dancer” in the way I flitted about on stage, in the way I was always moving. In this case, not necessarily the best thing.
She went on to talk of her own experience (she also had a dance background), including the time a director encouraged her to rein in her physicality, to explore a physical stillness that would allow her voice to do more of the work telling the story. With opera, we can trust the composer (if s/he’s a good one) to help us express character, including silliness or flightiness; we don’t necessarily need to do it all with the body. For example, it was amazing to watch and listen as Susan Graham worked her way through the Iphigenie rehearsals. Talk about acting with the voice! She is a wonderful actor, period, but the emotions that come through her voice as she stands there and sings can blow your mind. She’s not “showing” us how she feels; she’s feeling it, and her voice is expressing it. She simply lets her voice deliver the emotions that Gluck captured in his music. It’s inspiring.
Granted, Barbarina is a flighty girl, probably a bit high-strung. Think of the line from Act I, when the Count describes finding Cherubino in Barbarina’s house: he describes her as being paurosa fuor dell'uso, “flustered more than usual.” So it was interesting to think about economy of movement, especially thinking ahead to performing Susanna. Barbarina’s aria was a good exercise is doing less, in letting the anxiety of the music tell the story: minor key, undulating triple meter, those repeated c's in the orchestra. It's all right there. Of course, in the recit after the aria, she is quick to try to hide her anxiety, back to her flighty ways while talking with Figaro and Marcellina.
In another early rehearsal, I noted how well Terfel handled the physical interactions that were blocked. I was kneeling down on the floor, looking for the pin, and when he came to lift me up by the arm, he barely touched me. His voice and the rest of his body acted as if he were taking out his frustrations on me (“What do you know about these things?!”), but his hand was practically limp. A grimace on my face and a movement of my arm as if trying to get out of a grip, and voila! Stage violence.
As I described in an earlier post, he changed up this blocking one night, but all he did was touch the back of my neck. It was up to me to (quickly!) figure out what he was doing (lifting me up by the scruff of my neck) and react accordingly. It was fun to struggle against his non-existent grip, to make it look like I was a kid getting dragged off to the principal’s office.
There were all kinds of interactions like this in Figaro: the Count pulling Cherubino by his ear, various “romantic” entanglements, Susanna’s slaps of Figaro, and the physical face-off between the Count and Figaro in Act III. Simon also did a huge pratfall every night, taking a swinging kick at Bryn and going flying. Fantastic physical comedy, focused and carefully planned.
This post may seem to contradict a lot of what I wrote in the previous post, but I’m pretty sure it’s all of a piece. I’m not saying I need to be more still on stage by being more cerebral, less physical; I just need to focus the energy. Trust the music. Be present in my body, tell the story with my voice - which is part of my body - and not with my head. As always, it’s a balance.
It seems my dancing days are still evident, not just when I’m dancing, but in the general way I “act” on stage. I’m not talking about having a good carriage or being graceful; she could see my “inner dancer” in the way I flitted about on stage, in the way I was always moving. In this case, not necessarily the best thing.
She went on to talk of her own experience (she also had a dance background), including the time a director encouraged her to rein in her physicality, to explore a physical stillness that would allow her voice to do more of the work telling the story. With opera, we can trust the composer (if s/he’s a good one) to help us express character, including silliness or flightiness; we don’t necessarily need to do it all with the body. For example, it was amazing to watch and listen as Susan Graham worked her way through the Iphigenie rehearsals. Talk about acting with the voice! She is a wonderful actor, period, but the emotions that come through her voice as she stands there and sings can blow your mind. She’s not “showing” us how she feels; she’s feeling it, and her voice is expressing it. She simply lets her voice deliver the emotions that Gluck captured in his music. It’s inspiring.
Granted, Barbarina is a flighty girl, probably a bit high-strung. Think of the line from Act I, when the Count describes finding Cherubino in Barbarina’s house: he describes her as being paurosa fuor dell'uso, “flustered more than usual.” So it was interesting to think about economy of movement, especially thinking ahead to performing Susanna. Barbarina’s aria was a good exercise is doing less, in letting the anxiety of the music tell the story: minor key, undulating triple meter, those repeated c's in the orchestra. It's all right there. Of course, in the recit after the aria, she is quick to try to hide her anxiety, back to her flighty ways while talking with Figaro and Marcellina.
In another early rehearsal, I noted how well Terfel handled the physical interactions that were blocked. I was kneeling down on the floor, looking for the pin, and when he came to lift me up by the arm, he barely touched me. His voice and the rest of his body acted as if he were taking out his frustrations on me (“What do you know about these things?!”), but his hand was practically limp. A grimace on my face and a movement of my arm as if trying to get out of a grip, and voila! Stage violence.
As I described in an earlier post, he changed up this blocking one night, but all he did was touch the back of my neck. It was up to me to (quickly!) figure out what he was doing (lifting me up by the scruff of my neck) and react accordingly. It was fun to struggle against his non-existent grip, to make it look like I was a kid getting dragged off to the principal’s office.
There were all kinds of interactions like this in Figaro: the Count pulling Cherubino by his ear, various “romantic” entanglements, Susanna’s slaps of Figaro, and the physical face-off between the Count and Figaro in Act III. Simon also did a huge pratfall every night, taking a swinging kick at Bryn and going flying. Fantastic physical comedy, focused and carefully planned.
This post may seem to contradict a lot of what I wrote in the previous post, but I’m pretty sure it’s all of a piece. I’m not saying I need to be more still on stage by being more cerebral, less physical; I just need to focus the energy. Trust the music. Be present in my body, tell the story with my voice - which is part of my body - and not with my head. As always, it’s a balance.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
The week (not for the weak)
Another week of slightly insane days, but this time the only nighttime activities are fun ones. (Not that rehearsals and performances aren’t fun; they are, but they are also work.) Last night and tonight at home, cooking dinner to relax
Wednesday: Traviata with a generous friend
Thursday: a VIM recital byHeather! and a get-together of Wolf Trappers
Friday: a Wordless Music concert (um, hello? why haven’t I known about this series before this week?!)
The days are filled with running between Iphigenie rehearsals (watching, trying to capture my character’s blocking) and Figaro rehearsals (singing, trying to get my Italian diction a bit more soignée), plus fitting in auditions where ever I can. Today I sang for the Sullivan Foundation again. I was very happy with my performance, but I’m reminding myself that this is a whole new competition this year. Last year’s award far from guarantees a bigger award this year; with a whole new judging panel, it’s anybody’s ballgame. All we can do is our best, and I think I did today.
(I need to give a HUGE thank you to MS, the tireless and sweet woman who organizes the Sullivan competition. I must have called to change my audition time four times, as my rehearsal schedule kept changing last minute! She was so patient and flexible, and I am very grateful. There are lots of good folks in this business, you know?)
All of this leads up, of course, to our first Figaro on Saturday afternoon! It’s a strange rehearsal period. We have, largely, a whole new cast, but since this is the second presentation of this production this season, our rehearsal time is shorter, just about ten days. There will be one orchestra rehearsal (Thursday), one run-through (Friday), and no time on the set or stage. It’s a time to use all our powers of visualization at home in our down time and get the blocking into our bodies and minds that way, rather than running the scenes over and over for weeks. It’s tough, and not a little unsettling, but it’s also an exciting challenge.
Dinner time! Last night’s Moroccan vegetable stew with polenta (my new favorite comfort food) made a great lunch today. Tonight I think I’ll make a fancy salad and pair it with a slice from the Pizzeria across the street… ok, maybe two. A bit of tasty indulgence.
Oh, one more thought: today the director of Figaro told me to go ahead and play Barbarina a bit more grown-up, a little less “cute.” Hooray! She’s still a kid, but my stage personality doesn’t really lend itself to cutesy, so we’re thinking she’s more like 15 rather than 12. I’m imagining her as a slightly younger Meg from Brigadoon…
Wednesday: Traviata with a generous friend
Thursday: a VIM recital byHeather! and a get-together of Wolf Trappers
Friday: a Wordless Music concert (um, hello? why haven’t I known about this series before this week?!)
The days are filled with running between Iphigenie rehearsals (watching, trying to capture my character’s blocking) and Figaro rehearsals (singing, trying to get my Italian diction a bit more soignée), plus fitting in auditions where ever I can. Today I sang for the Sullivan Foundation again. I was very happy with my performance, but I’m reminding myself that this is a whole new competition this year. Last year’s award far from guarantees a bigger award this year; with a whole new judging panel, it’s anybody’s ballgame. All we can do is our best, and I think I did today.
(I need to give a HUGE thank you to MS, the tireless and sweet woman who organizes the Sullivan competition. I must have called to change my audition time four times, as my rehearsal schedule kept changing last minute! She was so patient and flexible, and I am very grateful. There are lots of good folks in this business, you know?)
All of this leads up, of course, to our first Figaro on Saturday afternoon! It’s a strange rehearsal period. We have, largely, a whole new cast, but since this is the second presentation of this production this season, our rehearsal time is shorter, just about ten days. There will be one orchestra rehearsal (Thursday), one run-through (Friday), and no time on the set or stage. It’s a time to use all our powers of visualization at home in our down time and get the blocking into our bodies and minds that way, rather than running the scenes over and over for weeks. It’s tough, and not a little unsettling, but it’s also an exciting challenge.
Dinner time! Last night’s Moroccan vegetable stew with polenta (my new favorite comfort food) made a great lunch today. Tonight I think I’ll make a fancy salad and pair it with a slice from the Pizzeria across the street… ok, maybe two. A bit of tasty indulgence.
Oh, one more thought: today the director of Figaro told me to go ahead and play Barbarina a bit more grown-up, a little less “cute.” Hooray! She’s still a kid, but my stage personality doesn’t really lend itself to cutesy, so we’re thinking she’s more like 15 rather than 12. I’m imagining her as a slightly younger Meg from Brigadoon…
Monday, October 22, 2007
Together, separate
There was a great interview with Adrian Noble in Sunday’s NY Times in advance of tonight’s opening of Macbeth. I’ve had a few short conversations with Mr. Noble over the past few weeks, and I was already sorry I didn’t get to work with him more; this article makes me even more so! It’s been great to watch the process, though, and I hope I’ll get a chance to do more with him in the future. Tonight’s prima should be thrilling!!
One quote resonated with me, especially: “…there’s a huge difference between the way an actor approaches a part and the way a singer must approach a part,” Mr. Noble said. “Many actors say they have to learn their lines in rehearsal as they develop an interpretation. Singers know their roles cold on Day 1.” I realized this major difference between theater and opera in grad school, and I was (still am, a bit) daunted by it. I had never had to sit and try to memorize anything, because after two weeks of rehearsals with scripts in-hand I knew my lines. They secured themselves on the same pathways of my brain as my blocking and characterization; everything was formed together. Easy.
But I did get a chance to work this way in a scene’s program in grad school. I was asked to step in at the last minute (less than a week before the performance) to sing the love scene between Anne and Fenton in Vaughn-Williams Sir John in Love. (The soprano originally cast became uncomfortable with the “love” aspect of the scene…) I didn’t realize it until after the performance was over, but that week of learning music and blocking and character together was a welcome throwback to my days in theater. These days I can work on my ideas of the character, but blocking can only come after everything else is learned and memorized. (eeek!)
Time to put on some black clothes and head up the street for Macbeth! It’ll be an “LBD” tonight; there is a party afterwards, of course!
One quote resonated with me, especially: “…there’s a huge difference between the way an actor approaches a part and the way a singer must approach a part,” Mr. Noble said. “Many actors say they have to learn their lines in rehearsal as they develop an interpretation. Singers know their roles cold on Day 1.” I realized this major difference between theater and opera in grad school, and I was (still am, a bit) daunted by it. I had never had to sit and try to memorize anything, because after two weeks of rehearsals with scripts in-hand I knew my lines. They secured themselves on the same pathways of my brain as my blocking and characterization; everything was formed together. Easy.
But I did get a chance to work this way in a scene’s program in grad school. I was asked to step in at the last minute (less than a week before the performance) to sing the love scene between Anne and Fenton in Vaughn-Williams Sir John in Love. (The soprano originally cast became uncomfortable with the “love” aspect of the scene…) I didn’t realize it until after the performance was over, but that week of learning music and blocking and character together was a welcome throwback to my days in theater. These days I can work on my ideas of the character, but blocking can only come after everything else is learned and memorized. (eeek!)
Time to put on some black clothes and head up the street for Macbeth! It’ll be an “LBD” tonight; there is a party afterwards, of course!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Back to work
Today is my first day of Figaro rehearsal! It’s the second day of actual rehearsal (there was some musical rehearsal yesterday), and yet we’re spending the day today with the orchestra. Yep – Sitzprobe on day 2! I talked with a friend who is singing in this cast (“Sitz with no music rehearsal – fun!”), and we decided that they must figure everyone already knows the show! I’m sure it has more to do with scheduling the orchestra, but the timing is unusual. I’m excited to watch Hei-Kyung Hong and Isabel Bayrakdarian, and I can’t wait to see my cadre of friends who are singing and covering the show.
Again, it feels like the first day of school. I had lunch in the Met cafeteria last week with MP, and the feeling of “new season” was all over. There were lots of big hugs and “how was your summer?” and “welcome back!” When I came in through the stage door, I was greeted by the security guards and receptionists with smiles, and I was happy to see them, too. Coaches, singers, other staff, even the cafeteria staff – we had all returned. Back to work after a “summer holiday.”
I’m only called for the afternoon, which will rehearse Acts III & IV. I’ll be following along with every scene, of course, starting my Susanna Recon Project (yay! new acronym! SRP!), but paying closest attention to tempi and phrasing in Barbarina’s scenes.
Can’t wait!
Again, it feels like the first day of school. I had lunch in the Met cafeteria last week with MP, and the feeling of “new season” was all over. There were lots of big hugs and “how was your summer?” and “welcome back!” When I came in through the stage door, I was greeted by the security guards and receptionists with smiles, and I was happy to see them, too. Coaches, singers, other staff, even the cafeteria staff – we had all returned. Back to work after a “summer holiday.”
I’m only called for the afternoon, which will rehearse Acts III & IV. I’ll be following along with every scene, of course, starting my Susanna Recon Project (yay! new acronym! SRP!), but paying closest attention to tempi and phrasing in Barbarina’s scenes.
Can’t wait!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Pre-Volpone miscellany
So, that wasn’t too bad. I was pretty stressed out before the run-through started, because the more I thought about the character and the show, the less I understood this new idea and how to implement it. But, with some great colleagues (couldn’t’ve done it without you, JJ) and more guidance from PK, I think I’m back to having a cohesive character. She still feels very new to me, which is kind of fun in the way that exploring a new character is always fun. Hopefully she’ll feel a bit more cemented before opening night, though!
I have no idea whether or not the healing scene is going to cause the same amount of rip-roaring laughter, but we should have a few new folks at the first dress rehearsal tonight, so I’ll get a chance to see. Celia is much less maniac and frenetic that she used to be, so I think I’ll be able to stay more centered, regardless of the audience’s reaction.
Last night we had our Sitzprobe, which is always one of my favorite rehearsals. To move from the percussive support of the piano to the enveloping support of the orchestra is always a wonderful transition! A bit unsettling at times, as it can be a challenge to hear the timbre (sound quality) of the clarinet or violin that is doubling my line after weeks of hearing it in the piano. But, we make it. And this orchestration is fantastic; some really beautiful and thrilling moments. Head over to Kim’s blog for a photo (that’s me in the red dress) and her thoughts on the rehearsal; as the General Director, she has a lot more to think about than I do!
After Tuesday’s piano dress, I had the chance to share one of my favorite “tricks of the trade” with one of the young women in the Studio program*: the joys of pin-curl hair!! I arrived at the post-rehearsal notes session with my hair still up in my wig cap, and while PK gave notes I stood in the back taking off the cap and pulling the bobby pins out of my curls. EO was next to me, dealing her own post-wig hair, so I said, “Here’s the trick,” and flipped my hair up and down like a rocker at a concert. When I stood back upright, Voila! Soft wavy curls a là an early-80s Breck commercial. We’ll get the chance to try it again after tonight’s rehearsal, and by Friday she’ll have it mastered! The best hair at the afterparty will be on EO; watch out, ya’ll!
A quiet afternoon here. Some Figaro, some gentle warming up, dinner of some kind… then to the theater at 5:30 for rehearsal!
*Wolf Trap has a new program this season for post-undergraduate students; seven of them have small roles in Volpone.
I have no idea whether or not the healing scene is going to cause the same amount of rip-roaring laughter, but we should have a few new folks at the first dress rehearsal tonight, so I’ll get a chance to see. Celia is much less maniac and frenetic that she used to be, so I think I’ll be able to stay more centered, regardless of the audience’s reaction.
Last night we had our Sitzprobe, which is always one of my favorite rehearsals. To move from the percussive support of the piano to the enveloping support of the orchestra is always a wonderful transition! A bit unsettling at times, as it can be a challenge to hear the timbre (sound quality) of the clarinet or violin that is doubling my line after weeks of hearing it in the piano. But, we make it. And this orchestration is fantastic; some really beautiful and thrilling moments. Head over to Kim’s blog for a photo (that’s me in the red dress) and her thoughts on the rehearsal; as the General Director, she has a lot more to think about than I do!
After Tuesday’s piano dress, I had the chance to share one of my favorite “tricks of the trade” with one of the young women in the Studio program*: the joys of pin-curl hair!! I arrived at the post-rehearsal notes session with my hair still up in my wig cap, and while PK gave notes I stood in the back taking off the cap and pulling the bobby pins out of my curls. EO was next to me, dealing her own post-wig hair, so I said, “Here’s the trick,” and flipped my hair up and down like a rocker at a concert. When I stood back upright, Voila! Soft wavy curls a là an early-80s Breck commercial. We’ll get the chance to try it again after tonight’s rehearsal, and by Friday she’ll have it mastered! The best hair at the afterparty will be on EO; watch out, ya’ll!
A quiet afternoon here. Some Figaro, some gentle warming up, dinner of some kind… then to the theater at 5:30 for rehearsal!
*Wolf Trap has a new program this season for post-undergraduate students; seven of them have small roles in Volpone.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Ch-ch-changes
Often in the rehearsal process, just when you think you’ve got your character / staging / interpretation nailed down, another element is added to the mix that throws everything out of whack. And sometimes that means completely rethinking what has come before.
At tonight’s rehearsal, I’ll be presenting an almost completely different character than the one I’d grown into over the past couple of weeks. Not entirely different, but different enough that it feels like I’m starting over. The creative direction staff (director, conductor, composer, costumer, etc.) is with me on the change; in fact, I wouldn’t be making the change if it weren’t for them! But, essentially, they’re the Boss. Who knows if this incarnation of Celia will be what audiences see on Friday night; we might go back to what we had last night or come up with something that’s between the two or even find something different altogether! It’s all part of the process…
A very tough part. “Flexibility is the key to airpower,” and all that, but eek!! Time for some visualization and mental focus. I’ll report back…
At tonight’s rehearsal, I’ll be presenting an almost completely different character than the one I’d grown into over the past couple of weeks. Not entirely different, but different enough that it feels like I’m starting over. The creative direction staff (director, conductor, composer, costumer, etc.) is with me on the change; in fact, I wouldn’t be making the change if it weren’t for them! But, essentially, they’re the Boss. Who knows if this incarnation of Celia will be what audiences see on Friday night; we might go back to what we had last night or come up with something that’s between the two or even find something different altogether! It’s all part of the process…
A very tough part. “Flexibility is the key to airpower,” and all that, but eek!! Time for some visualization and mental focus. I’ll report back…
Monday, June 11, 2007
Physical, too
One specific area that’s been a challenge so far is the above mentioned physical intimacy. Without getting too specific, I’ll just say that my character gets a bit overzealous in her attempts to heal Volpone through the “laying on of virgin hands” and ends up with his head under her skirt. Ahime! My partner, JJ, is wonderful, and it’s been a fun scene to work, but not without its challenges!
When we first blocked the scene we had no one in the room except directors and stage management so we could explore the staging without the added pressure of our colleagues sitting around and sniggering. (Most intimate scenes are staged like this, out of simple respect for the actors. I still remember rehearsing my first stage kiss – as Hope Harcourt in Anything Goes in high school – in a closed rehearsal. We must have gotten something right, because my boyfriend complained that I kissed Billy “just like” I kissed him!)
There was lots of laughing and blushing and “Oh god”-ing in the first few runs that day, but also lots of “You ok with this?” and “What do you need me to do?” Great colleagues and a great rehearsal environment. By the time we left that rehearsal, it was just a series of moves, not unlike a dance routine.
But! Add an audience back in, and all of that can go right out the window! As soon as my friends and colleagues were there, positively shrieking with laughter, I lost my focus. The next two times we ran the scene, on two different days, I ended up laughing so much that I couldn’t stay in character OR sing! Fun, and funny, but frustrating. If I can’t hold it together in front of twenty laughing people, what will I do with 400?
I asked PK if we could run the scene a lot, with people doing lots of things to try and distract me. Throwing Ricola lozenges, laughing, talking, etc.. He said I didn’t need that, that I would be fine, but when I balked at that idea, especially nervous about my laughing, he gave me great advice: if I (ACB) feel myself laughing, consider it my character (Celia) filled with the Spirit! She is performing a “miracle healing,” after all. Brilliant! That’s what a good director can do, fix a problem not with rehearsing, but with talking. With giving his actors more tools.
I went into the next run-through confident that I could keep it together. And I almost did… But it was my turn to get a bit of a joke played on me, since PK and I had orchestrated one on JJ a few days before. There was much laughing, and much breaking of character, but I think it will be for the best in the end. I feel like it needed to “go there” in order for us both to be totally comfortable; we needed to play with it. With something like this, it helps to treat it a bit irreverently in a few rehearsals, so that when those 400 people show up, we can concentrate on giving them the experience of the scene untainted by our own concerns.
Will they be shocked? Maybe. But I guarantee they’re going to laugh.
When we first blocked the scene we had no one in the room except directors and stage management so we could explore the staging without the added pressure of our colleagues sitting around and sniggering. (Most intimate scenes are staged like this, out of simple respect for the actors. I still remember rehearsing my first stage kiss – as Hope Harcourt in Anything Goes in high school – in a closed rehearsal. We must have gotten something right, because my boyfriend complained that I kissed Billy “just like” I kissed him!)
There was lots of laughing and blushing and “Oh god”-ing in the first few runs that day, but also lots of “You ok with this?” and “What do you need me to do?” Great colleagues and a great rehearsal environment. By the time we left that rehearsal, it was just a series of moves, not unlike a dance routine.
But! Add an audience back in, and all of that can go right out the window! As soon as my friends and colleagues were there, positively shrieking with laughter, I lost my focus. The next two times we ran the scene, on two different days, I ended up laughing so much that I couldn’t stay in character OR sing! Fun, and funny, but frustrating. If I can’t hold it together in front of twenty laughing people, what will I do with 400?
I asked PK if we could run the scene a lot, with people doing lots of things to try and distract me. Throwing Ricola lozenges, laughing, talking, etc.. He said I didn’t need that, that I would be fine, but when I balked at that idea, especially nervous about my laughing, he gave me great advice: if I (ACB) feel myself laughing, consider it my character (Celia) filled with the Spirit! She is performing a “miracle healing,” after all. Brilliant! That’s what a good director can do, fix a problem not with rehearsing, but with talking. With giving his actors more tools.
I went into the next run-through confident that I could keep it together. And I almost did… But it was my turn to get a bit of a joke played on me, since PK and I had orchestrated one on JJ a few days before. There was much laughing, and much breaking of character, but I think it will be for the best in the end. I feel like it needed to “go there” in order for us both to be totally comfortable; we needed to play with it. With something like this, it helps to treat it a bit irreverently in a few rehearsals, so that when those 400 people show up, we can concentrate on giving them the experience of the scene untainted by our own concerns.
Will they be shocked? Maybe. But I guarantee they’re going to laugh.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Living close to work
The problem with living so close to the Met? I think it only takes me two minutes to get there and I procrastinate like crazy every morning!!
I was so late this morning. I wasn’t the only one, but that was of little consolation, ‘cuz I HATE being late!! I felt awful that my makeup guy (whose two sisters are named Anne and Carolyn!) had to rush, even though we had “plenty of time but not time to waste.” ™ (that’s a Bird Family trademarked phrase, used with permission.) The costumer couldn’t make her adjustments ‘cuz I needed to run as soon as I got into my (beautiful!) dress. And I was a frazzled mess. In short, not how I want to go into any rehearsal, let alone my first rehearsal with the Met orchestra.
All in all, though, things were great today. YLT and I are working out our moves way up on the bridge, trying to coordinate kisses and coats and stairs all while straining to hear the orchestra and see the Maestro. I know we’ll get it; it’ll just take some repetition, but at one point today I felt like I didn’t have a clue what I was doing!! A common feeling at first dress rehearsals but still a bit unsettling. Time for some visualizing, me thinks… We do it again on Friday and Monday before Tuesday’s final dress rehearsal, then a few days off, and then – showtime!
Costumes and orchestra for Angelica tomorrow, a rehearsal for which I will be arriving EARLY.
I was so late this morning. I wasn’t the only one, but that was of little consolation, ‘cuz I HATE being late!! I felt awful that my makeup guy (whose two sisters are named Anne and Carolyn!) had to rush, even though we had “plenty of time but not time to waste.” ™ (that’s a Bird Family trademarked phrase, used with permission.) The costumer couldn’t make her adjustments ‘cuz I needed to run as soon as I got into my (beautiful!) dress. And I was a frazzled mess. In short, not how I want to go into any rehearsal, let alone my first rehearsal with the Met orchestra.
All in all, though, things were great today. YLT and I are working out our moves way up on the bridge, trying to coordinate kisses and coats and stairs all while straining to hear the orchestra and see the Maestro. I know we’ll get it; it’ll just take some repetition, but at one point today I felt like I didn’t have a clue what I was doing!! A common feeling at first dress rehearsals but still a bit unsettling. Time for some visualizing, me thinks… We do it again on Friday and Monday before Tuesday’s final dress rehearsal, then a few days off, and then – showtime!
Costumes and orchestra for Angelica tomorrow, a rehearsal for which I will be arriving EARLY.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Winging it
Nothing like showing up to the Tabarro musical rehearsal on Saturday and discovering an entire page of music (ok, only five measures) that I’d never seen before! Sight-reading for Mo. Levine – awesome!
It was really not bad at all; the music staff was very helpful. We quickly ran to the library and got me a part score, then headed to P’s studio to run through it once or twice. But I think I’ve said here before that I only really get nervous when I’m unprepared, and this definitely counted as unprepared!! Shaky hands and sweaty palms when I sat down after singing my few bars, absolutely.
(How did this happen, you ask? Turns out there is a line for “Soprano/Tenor Interno,” sung offstage, earlier in the opera. Since I only had a part score for the “Young Lovers” and am unfamiliar with the opera, I knew nothing about it; the library didn’t know that the two parts were to be sung by the same people, since only the YL parts are credited on the program. Easy mistake to make, easy to let something like this slip through the cracks. And since we didn’t coach or rehearse these parts until the whole show was put together, we only discovered it on Saturday.)
The Suor run-through on Friday went very well, too. It is such a moving piece; I really had no idea. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when we finished. Bring your hankies to the movies!
The donkey (yes, Sarah, a “for real” donkey!) was adorable, and – of course – pooped onstage. “Welcome to the Met!” I didn’t get a picture, but I promise I will this week. (Of the donkey, not the poop.) We’re onstage every morning this week, and in fact, I’m about to head out now to meet my destiny with the Tabarro bridge… Wish me luck!!
It was really not bad at all; the music staff was very helpful. We quickly ran to the library and got me a part score, then headed to P’s studio to run through it once or twice. But I think I’ve said here before that I only really get nervous when I’m unprepared, and this definitely counted as unprepared!! Shaky hands and sweaty palms when I sat down after singing my few bars, absolutely.
(How did this happen, you ask? Turns out there is a line for “Soprano/Tenor Interno,” sung offstage, earlier in the opera. Since I only had a part score for the “Young Lovers” and am unfamiliar with the opera, I knew nothing about it; the library didn’t know that the two parts were to be sung by the same people, since only the YL parts are credited on the program. Easy mistake to make, easy to let something like this slip through the cracks. And since we didn’t coach or rehearse these parts until the whole show was put together, we only discovered it on Saturday.)
The Suor run-through on Friday went very well, too. It is such a moving piece; I really had no idea. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when we finished. Bring your hankies to the movies!
The donkey (yes, Sarah, a “for real” donkey!) was adorable, and – of course – pooped onstage. “Welcome to the Met!” I didn’t get a picture, but I promise I will this week. (Of the donkey, not the poop.) We’re onstage every morning this week, and in fact, I’m about to head out now to meet my destiny with the Tabarro bridge… Wish me luck!!
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