I had planned to write about all the stagecraft things I’ve learned on this gig, but my day has gotten away from me! I got a fantastic night of sleep, almost sleeping until noon, then spent the afternoon working on the program for the Sing For Hope concert. It’s going to be fantastic. March 2nd, UWS NYC, 3pm, be there.
About an hour ago my hands started getting clammy and my nerves started working, so I went to go start warming up my voice, hoping to settle down a bit. I’ve been humming and lip-trilling absent-mindedly (sp?) all day, but it was time for Phase One of my game day warm-up. (I promise another post with specifics, if you care…) It worked, mostly, and now I’m eating some black beans with polenta (my starch of choice these days), and gathering my things for a night at the theater! I didn’t get my cards done for opening night, so they will closing night cards, but I did pick up a few little gifts yesterday. I did manage to find a darling dress for the opening night party (pictures forthcoming, I hope), so I need to get changed soon. The question for tonight: wear my cute black pumps? or wear the snow boots and then change… dilemmas, I tell you.
I’m meeting TM in 45 minutes to give him his ticket for tonight, and then I’ll disappear into my dressing room to do my pin curls and complete my pre-game show: a bit more warming up, studying my notes, reviewing those lines that I managed to get right in the final dress but am still a bit nervous about, start praying that I’ll make it through that Act II Finale with a bit more grace tonight.
Here we go!!
Friday, February 15, 2008
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
Could be worse
I often find myself having the nerd/dork/geek conversation. Which are you? Which would you prefer to be? I think I'm a bit of each from time to time, as evidenced by the fact that I took this quiz in the first place... (Thanks for Em-Cat for the quiz! She and I were choir dorks in high school...)
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.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
February 1, by the hours
12:30am - fall into bed after obsessively checking the weather all night long
5:00 - alarm goes off, promptly (accidentally) turn it off
5:45 - wake up from a dream of someone telling me to wake up
6:30 - catch a cab for La Guardia after confirming that my 8:00 flight to Chicago is still miraculously “on time”
7:00 - arrive at LGA, get through security, go to gate and see that flight is now scheduled to leave at 9:15
7:15 - get Automated Alert from United saying that my flight is delayed. Thanks. Eat first breakfast.
7:45 - announcement that flight is now due to leave at 11:00
8:30 - get rebooked on another airline for an 11:30 flight to Grand Rapids via Milwaukee, go back out to the main terminal, check in, put on some makeup
9:00 - eat second breakfast, then go back through security to my new gate
9:15 - get alert from United that my original flight from Chicago to Grand Rapids has been cancelled - good thing I changed routes!
9:30-11 - study Figaro at the gate, try not to stress
11:45 - up in the air! Onward to Milwaukee! Read Barber recits on the flight. Looks like I’ll be on time for my connection to Grand Rapids, and hence for my 3pm rehearsal. HA! Fool!
12:50pm (Central) - land, head to my gate, discover flight is delayed, set to leave at 2:30 instead of 1:20.
2:30 - discover that flight is now leaving at 3:15.
3:30 - walk out onto the snowy tarmac to board the tiniest shuttle plane I’ve ever seen, giggle nervously
4:30 - land in Grand Rapids, text my ride to say I’m on my way out
5:00 - arrive at rehearsal, and jump right in: staging the Act II dressing scene with Cherubino
6:00 - dinner at China Buffet, almost cry when I see that they have TOFU!! And veggie egg rolls!! I am revived.
7:00 - back to rehearsal: working the chorus into the Act I scene, then a run of Act I. Feel totally energized during rehearsal, wrapped up in loving the process. My voice was even fairly functional, considering the hours spent in recycled air.
10:00 - suddenly realize that I. Am. Beat. What a day!
I’m glad to be tucked back into my comfy bed in my TH (Temporary Home, a new acronym you’ll see a lot this year) after another high steam shower, set to get a full night’s sleep. Only six hours of rehearsal tomorrow with plans for a nice dinner afterwards, then Sunday off!! Of course, a “day off” these days means a study day, but I’ll also have time to sleep in and have folks over here to watch the Super Bowl.
More on rehearsals in a bit… sleep now…
5:00 - alarm goes off, promptly (accidentally) turn it off
5:45 - wake up from a dream of someone telling me to wake up
6:30 - catch a cab for La Guardia after confirming that my 8:00 flight to Chicago is still miraculously “on time”
7:00 - arrive at LGA, get through security, go to gate and see that flight is now scheduled to leave at 9:15
7:15 - get Automated Alert from United saying that my flight is delayed. Thanks. Eat first breakfast.
7:45 - announcement that flight is now due to leave at 11:00
8:30 - get rebooked on another airline for an 11:30 flight to Grand Rapids via Milwaukee, go back out to the main terminal, check in, put on some makeup
9:00 - eat second breakfast, then go back through security to my new gate
9:15 - get alert from United that my original flight from Chicago to Grand Rapids has been cancelled - good thing I changed routes!
9:30-11 - study Figaro at the gate, try not to stress
11:45 - up in the air! Onward to Milwaukee! Read Barber recits on the flight. Looks like I’ll be on time for my connection to Grand Rapids, and hence for my 3pm rehearsal. HA! Fool!
12:50pm (Central) - land, head to my gate, discover flight is delayed, set to leave at 2:30 instead of 1:20.
2:30 - discover that flight is now leaving at 3:15.
3:30 - walk out onto the snowy tarmac to board the tiniest shuttle plane I’ve ever seen, giggle nervously
4:30 - land in Grand Rapids, text my ride to say I’m on my way out
5:00 - arrive at rehearsal, and jump right in: staging the Act II dressing scene with Cherubino
6:00 - dinner at China Buffet, almost cry when I see that they have TOFU!! And veggie egg rolls!! I am revived.
7:00 - back to rehearsal: working the chorus into the Act I scene, then a run of Act I. Feel totally energized during rehearsal, wrapped up in loving the process. My voice was even fairly functional, considering the hours spent in recycled air.
10:00 - suddenly realize that I. Am. Beat. What a day!
I’m glad to be tucked back into my comfy bed in my TH (Temporary Home, a new acronym you’ll see a lot this year) after another high steam shower, set to get a full night’s sleep. Only six hours of rehearsal tomorrow with plans for a nice dinner afterwards, then Sunday off!! Of course, a “day off” these days means a study day, but I’ll also have time to sleep in and have folks over here to watch the Super Bowl.
More on rehearsals in a bit… sleep now…
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!
Monday, January 28, 2008
Snow!
I love the smell of snow. As I walked out of the airport tonight, it hit me: that crisp, clean smell of winter. I lived in wintery climates most of my growing-up years - Maine, Illinois, Utah - and the light winters of my adulthood in Georgia and Seattle never really measured up. NYC has so far been a wash in the winter department (save one good storm last year), so despite my earlier whining, I’m happy to be in the snowy Midwest.
Flying into Grand Rapids through a soft pink sunset, looking at the beautiful white-blue snow, I found myself wishing I had brought “play in the snow” clothes. Of course, I don’t own any, but that’s beside the point. I just might have to borrow some good boots and a waterproof coat and some gloves… there may be a snowball fight in the near future…
I’m settled into my rooms in a lovely house, complete with wireless internet and a humidifier. Just like home! Except much bigger… And apparently there’s a frozen lake right outside my window; can’t wait to see it in the daytime! Had dinner tonight with my Count and Figaro and our director, and now I’m off to bed before rehearsal tomorrow!
Flying into Grand Rapids through a soft pink sunset, looking at the beautiful white-blue snow, I found myself wishing I had brought “play in the snow” clothes. Of course, I don’t own any, but that’s beside the point. I just might have to borrow some good boots and a waterproof coat and some gloves… there may be a snowball fight in the near future…
I’m settled into my rooms in a lovely house, complete with wireless internet and a humidifier. Just like home! Except much bigger… And apparently there’s a frozen lake right outside my window; can’t wait to see it in the daytime! Had dinner tonight with my Count and Figaro and our director, and now I’m off to bed before rehearsal tomorrow!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Packing
I’m realizing that I haven’t packed for a gig away from home in over a year, and I”m a bit overwhelmed. (Relocating to Virginia for three months is a completely different sort of packing…)
So many gadgets to pack (laptop, iPod, steamer, my new roll-up piano!) along with their accompanying chords... I have pocket folders filled with papers: Barber translations and notes on ornaments, Figaro translations (for drilling), paperwork for the company (contracts, schedules, etc.), note cards and bank envelopes. I think about which comforts of home to take - slippers, a few pictures - and which to leave - big fluffy robe, kitchen knives (essential on longer gigs; I can’t cook without them!). Which books to pack is always something I stew over, although on this trip it’s easy: my Barber score! Not much time for recreational reading these days...
I used to have little zipper bags with various categories of travel stuff in them - a mini-pharmacy, various groups of toiletries, cables and chargers - but a year and a half at home has dispersed all of their contents. Today I’ve been reorganizing, regrouping, in order to make the packings and unpackings of the next few months go a bit more smoothly. I found my “airplane survival bag,” which has such travel necessities as an eye mask, ear plugs, lotion, toothpaste, Zicam and various other meds, even an extra set of earphones. A well-stocked bag, but obviously put together back when I did more traveling!
One good thing about moving into a whole new environment is that no one there has seen any of my clothes! So even though I was feeling a bit “meh” about my wardrobe these days (I somehow managed to get through January without hitting a single sale!!), everything will be new in the eyes of my new colleagues. Granted, it’s cold enough in MI that I’ll be mainly concerned with warmth, but style will always be an aim, so I’m taking my plaid corduroy pants (Free People, for those who care). Add some silk long johns underneath and I’ll be warm and stylish! Although it looks like it won’t be much colder there than here, with the major difference of SNOW! I’m looking forward to a real winter, I think, although I’m not crazy about driving in it…
I’ve been alternating packing binges with study sessions, and I’m feeling pretty good about things. I’ll still be up all night, though, ‘cuz I can never sleep the night before I travel…
Back to work! More from the Great Lake State in a few days!
So many gadgets to pack (laptop, iPod, steamer, my new roll-up piano!) along with their accompanying chords... I have pocket folders filled with papers: Barber translations and notes on ornaments, Figaro translations (for drilling), paperwork for the company (contracts, schedules, etc.), note cards and bank envelopes. I think about which comforts of home to take - slippers, a few pictures - and which to leave - big fluffy robe, kitchen knives (essential on longer gigs; I can’t cook without them!). Which books to pack is always something I stew over, although on this trip it’s easy: my Barber score! Not much time for recreational reading these days...
I used to have little zipper bags with various categories of travel stuff in them - a mini-pharmacy, various groups of toiletries, cables and chargers - but a year and a half at home has dispersed all of their contents. Today I’ve been reorganizing, regrouping, in order to make the packings and unpackings of the next few months go a bit more smoothly. I found my “airplane survival bag,” which has such travel necessities as an eye mask, ear plugs, lotion, toothpaste, Zicam and various other meds, even an extra set of earphones. A well-stocked bag, but obviously put together back when I did more traveling!
One good thing about moving into a whole new environment is that no one there has seen any of my clothes! So even though I was feeling a bit “meh” about my wardrobe these days (I somehow managed to get through January without hitting a single sale!!), everything will be new in the eyes of my new colleagues. Granted, it’s cold enough in MI that I’ll be mainly concerned with warmth, but style will always be an aim, so I’m taking my plaid corduroy pants (Free People, for those who care). Add some silk long johns underneath and I’ll be warm and stylish! Although it looks like it won’t be much colder there than here, with the major difference of SNOW! I’m looking forward to a real winter, I think, although I’m not crazy about driving in it…
I’ve been alternating packing binges with study sessions, and I’m feeling pretty good about things. I’ll still be up all night, though, ‘cuz I can never sleep the night before I travel…
Back to work! More from the Great Lake State in a few days!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Study
A short Italian lesson: to help get those long Italian vowels and short double consonants into my tongue and mouth and voice, I’ve been told by several folks to speak the text exaggerating those sounds. For example, this line from the Figaro Act II Finale - “...qui li ha fatti capitar” (“here has made them come” or “has sent them here”)- has a double consonant in the word “fatti” and a long vowel in “capitar.” I keep getting them mixed up, putting a double P in capitar, so I’ve been drilling the line like this: “qui li ha fat--------ti caaaaaaaapitar.” Out of tempo, stopping all sound on that double T, and holding that Ah long enough that I make the following P very short. It's a great way to drill the recits, too; this kind of direction to the words creates a naturally conversation shaping.
Clear as mud? Awesome.
This week I’ve been multi-tasking in some funny ways: listening to Figaro on my iPod while marking my score and drilling rhythms for The Old Burying Ground, or listening to TOBG while typing up my Barber translations. The mix of new music and Classical is a fun stretch for my brain! Nothing like hearing a steady 4/4 while counting “2/4, 6/8, 9/8, 3/4…”
I was studying this afternoon (and eating lunch, even more multi-tasking) when “that moment” in the Act II Finale came up on my earphones (the “Deh signor nol contrastate” moment, with that low E in the double basses, you know the one). I put down my pencil and had a moment of amazement. It’s here! In four days we start rehearsals. I get to sing that beautiful role, to create that wonderful character, to tell that silly and touching story.
It’s time…
Clear as mud? Awesome.
This week I’ve been multi-tasking in some funny ways: listening to Figaro on my iPod while marking my score and drilling rhythms for The Old Burying Ground, or listening to TOBG while typing up my Barber translations. The mix of new music and Classical is a fun stretch for my brain! Nothing like hearing a steady 4/4 while counting “2/4, 6/8, 9/8, 3/4…”
I was studying this afternoon (and eating lunch, even more multi-tasking) when “that moment” in the Act II Finale came up on my earphones (the “Deh signor nol contrastate” moment, with that low E in the double basses, you know the one). I put down my pencil and had a moment of amazement. It’s here! In four days we start rehearsals. I get to sing that beautiful role, to create that wonderful character, to tell that silly and touching story.
It’s time…
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
Miscellany, Jan 21
* From an email I wrote this morning: “This year has presented a whole new facet of my career - music being given or offered to me [unsolicited] to perform and/or premiere - and I really don't know yet how to navigate it. I'm learning slowly, and at the same time, am totally overwhelmed with all the opera and "traditional" old-school standard stuff that is coming my way. It's a wonderful problem to have, I assure you, but it still take some figuring out.” Le sigh.
* Re: the March 2nd Sing for Hope concert: A couple of you have commented on how I can put this thing together organizationally with all the other stuff I have going on. That’s the beautiful thing! The goal of Sing For Hope (one of the goals, anyway) is to facilitate these concerts in such a way that the only thing “we artists” have to worry about is our performance. They, together with the folks at the benefitting charity (Children’s Aid Society in this case), take care of press and advertising, ticketing, programs and publicity materials, all of that. It’s an incredible gift. If you would like to help SFH in this mission, they have a donation page, too! The concert will be at 3pm, fyi, if you’d like to save the date.
* This week I have to get my taxes done. I like to have them done by my birthday every year, but February and March are so busy now that I know I’d better do them now or I’ll be scrambling come April. The incentive: last year I had only W2 employment, as opposed to 1099, which means… tax refund!!
* I made new friend at a recital this weekend, giving my extra ticket to someone I ran into at the box office. Turns out he is a musicology PhD and music critic from Europe, and we spent some lovely hours talking about what’s shakin’ in “classical music” these days. He’s here to do some research into a major 20th C composer, and I just happen to be sort of “connected” with that scene here in NYC; my roommate’s good friend is a major scholar on the composer he’s studying. I’m excited to introduce him to folks, because I think his ideas about music and music writing and “the scene” in general will be a welcome addition. It was a fantastically serendipitous meeting!
* Related: there are some great comments in the Shake Up post; go read them. I’d love to say I’ll get a response posted, but keep reading and you’ll see that is unlikely… Read TM’s great riff instead.
* I can’t remember who first linked to this beautiful interview with Dawn Upshaw, but thank you. “Joy and beauty are my goals.” Amen! (I couldn’t help clicking on the included sound files, fearing (hoping??) that the listed “Dancing on the Ceiling” was a Lionel Richie cover…teehee)
* Music this week: Susanna, including a couple of hours with other GR cast members to run recits and ensembles; Rosina, although she’s still in the text-only stage; Evan Chambers’ new oratorio The Old Burying Ground, which I’ll be recording and touring between Figaro and the SFH concert (I was so excited to learn that a friend will be with me on this project!); and just for fun, some Strauss songs with a pianist/conductor friend. We discovered that we both performed the same set (Madchenblumen; can anybody tell me how to get umlauts with Pages?!) on our Masters’ recitals, so we’re going to get together and make some music. I’m looking forward to it all, but it is a lot, so I apologize in advance for a light blogging week… (Get off my back, Marc.)
* Re: the March 2nd Sing for Hope concert: A couple of you have commented on how I can put this thing together organizationally with all the other stuff I have going on. That’s the beautiful thing! The goal of Sing For Hope (one of the goals, anyway) is to facilitate these concerts in such a way that the only thing “we artists” have to worry about is our performance. They, together with the folks at the benefitting charity (Children’s Aid Society in this case), take care of press and advertising, ticketing, programs and publicity materials, all of that. It’s an incredible gift. If you would like to help SFH in this mission, they have a donation page, too! The concert will be at 3pm, fyi, if you’d like to save the date.
* This week I have to get my taxes done. I like to have them done by my birthday every year, but February and March are so busy now that I know I’d better do them now or I’ll be scrambling come April. The incentive: last year I had only W2 employment, as opposed to 1099, which means… tax refund!!
* I made new friend at a recital this weekend, giving my extra ticket to someone I ran into at the box office. Turns out he is a musicology PhD and music critic from Europe, and we spent some lovely hours talking about what’s shakin’ in “classical music” these days. He’s here to do some research into a major 20th C composer, and I just happen to be sort of “connected” with that scene here in NYC; my roommate’s good friend is a major scholar on the composer he’s studying. I’m excited to introduce him to folks, because I think his ideas about music and music writing and “the scene” in general will be a welcome addition. It was a fantastically serendipitous meeting!
* Related: there are some great comments in the Shake Up post; go read them. I’d love to say I’ll get a response posted, but keep reading and you’ll see that is unlikely… Read TM’s great riff instead.
* I can’t remember who first linked to this beautiful interview with Dawn Upshaw, but thank you. “Joy and beauty are my goals.” Amen! (I couldn’t help clicking on the included sound files, fearing (hoping??) that the listed “Dancing on the Ceiling” was a Lionel Richie cover…teehee)
* Music this week: Susanna, including a couple of hours with other GR cast members to run recits and ensembles; Rosina, although she’s still in the text-only stage; Evan Chambers’ new oratorio The Old Burying Ground, which I’ll be recording and touring between Figaro and the SFH concert (I was so excited to learn that a friend will be with me on this project!); and just for fun, some Strauss songs with a pianist/conductor friend. We discovered that we both performed the same set (Madchenblumen; can anybody tell me how to get umlauts with Pages?!) on our Masters’ recitals, so we’re going to get together and make some music. I’m looking forward to it all, but it is a lot, so I apologize in advance for a light blogging week… (Get off my back, Marc.)
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Over the Line
Recently I saw a performance in which a singer teetered dangerously on the line between telling an emotional story and telling a personal story. It reminded me of my own experience with this difficult aspect of honest performing, during the first Sun Valley Opera Competition in 2003. I wrote up this story two years ago, to share with some friends, and knew that the time would come to share it on the blog. It seems that time is now, so, take a trip down memory lane with me...
The competition is held in a church in Seattle’s Madrona neighborhood, so for the “green room,” or holding area, we used the fellowship hall. The competition monitor came back to get us one at a time, and lead us through the maze of classrooms and nursery rooms in the church basement, up to the sanctuary where the actual competition took place. Imagine my surprise when, shortly before my turn to go, a beautiful tabby cat entered the room! Her name was KittyBob, I would later learn (yes, KittyBob is a girl…), but at the time all I knew was that I wanted to pet her and love on her. But the monitor soon appeared and called my name, so I said, “I have to go, but I’ll be back soon, kitty, and we can get to know each other.”
(Yes, I’m a dork when it comes to cats. We’ll just leave that be…)
I made my way to the altar area, which is raised up a bit from the rest of the sanctuary, making a nice stage area. The three sides of the space had choir loft benches against them, with a railing and kneeling bench for communion. I started singing Norina’s aria from Don Pasquale, getting through the opening cavatina and had moved into the sassy cabaletta when I heard people in the audience start to chuckle. I thought, “Wow, I’m really selling this! They think I’m funny!”
Well, it turns out the KittyBob was not content to wait for my return. She had appeared behind me, rubbing up against the kneelers and lying on her belly and generally looking adorable. When she worked her way into my sightlines at the front of the stage, I quickly realized that the audience was not laughing at me! I know that you can’t fight with animals or children on stage; people will always watch them to see what unexpected thing they’re going to do next. So I went with it: Norina had a cat! I sang to KittyBob for as long as she stuck around, then turned my attention back to the audience for the finish. When it was over, we – the audience and I – shared a good laugh, and I made my way back to the green room to await the second round.
My piece for the second round, the musical theatre round, was “The Sound of Music.” Yes, “The hills are alive” and all that. One of the judges told me later that when he saw my listing in the program, he thought, “She is really going to have to sell this to win with this song.” I had just come home from my first summer at Tanglewood, a place where the hills were indeed alive with the sounds of music. It was an amazing summer, and I was missing it, having a hard time adjusting to life “back home.” So I really let myself get lost in the words and the sentiment. When I got to the line “…like a lark who is learning to pray,” I brought my hands into a prayer position at my heart without thinking; it was a motion I had never done before, and it hit me.
“I go to the hills, when my heart is lonely. I know I will hear what I’ve heard before.”
I wanted to be back in the Berkshire hills. My heart was lonely, and I was missing the refuge of the musical community there.
“My heart will be blessed, with the sound of music…”
And my throat closed.
I had crossed that line that a performer needs to flirt with in performance in order to affect the audience, the line between control and indulgence, between telling a story and living the story. It is a line we should flirt with but never cross. A friend later told me that he had been just about to cry himself, because I was conveying the beauty of the song so well, but as soon as I cried, he became worried about me as a person, rather than emoting with me as the character.
The competition pianist, whom I had never met before that day and whose name I cannot remember, was completely with me. She slowed down and stopped just as I did, waited while I recovered my voice – surely a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours – then breathed with me and we finished the song, my voice shaking with held tears.
“…and I’ll sing once more.”
I didn’t even want to take a bow. I was mortified; I felt that I had let the audience down. They didn’t need to know that Anne-Carolyn Bird, the soprano, was having a rough night; they only needed to feel Maria’s joy at being in her mountains, surrounded by music. Another soprano in the competition reassured me, though, by telling me that every time she performed the role, she had to fight against the urge to cry at that point. It is a simple song, one that has become “cheesy” with overuse, but it is powerful in its simplicity. There is a reason it is a classic.
These events, I knew, made it so that I would remember this night and its lessons forever. I was almost embarrassed to be announced the winner.
The competition is held in a church in Seattle’s Madrona neighborhood, so for the “green room,” or holding area, we used the fellowship hall. The competition monitor came back to get us one at a time, and lead us through the maze of classrooms and nursery rooms in the church basement, up to the sanctuary where the actual competition took place. Imagine my surprise when, shortly before my turn to go, a beautiful tabby cat entered the room! Her name was KittyBob, I would later learn (yes, KittyBob is a girl…), but at the time all I knew was that I wanted to pet her and love on her. But the monitor soon appeared and called my name, so I said, “I have to go, but I’ll be back soon, kitty, and we can get to know each other.”
(Yes, I’m a dork when it comes to cats. We’ll just leave that be…)
I made my way to the altar area, which is raised up a bit from the rest of the sanctuary, making a nice stage area. The three sides of the space had choir loft benches against them, with a railing and kneeling bench for communion. I started singing Norina’s aria from Don Pasquale, getting through the opening cavatina and had moved into the sassy cabaletta when I heard people in the audience start to chuckle. I thought, “Wow, I’m really selling this! They think I’m funny!”
Well, it turns out the KittyBob was not content to wait for my return. She had appeared behind me, rubbing up against the kneelers and lying on her belly and generally looking adorable. When she worked her way into my sightlines at the front of the stage, I quickly realized that the audience was not laughing at me! I know that you can’t fight with animals or children on stage; people will always watch them to see what unexpected thing they’re going to do next. So I went with it: Norina had a cat! I sang to KittyBob for as long as she stuck around, then turned my attention back to the audience for the finish. When it was over, we – the audience and I – shared a good laugh, and I made my way back to the green room to await the second round.
My piece for the second round, the musical theatre round, was “The Sound of Music.” Yes, “The hills are alive” and all that. One of the judges told me later that when he saw my listing in the program, he thought, “She is really going to have to sell this to win with this song.” I had just come home from my first summer at Tanglewood, a place where the hills were indeed alive with the sounds of music. It was an amazing summer, and I was missing it, having a hard time adjusting to life “back home.” So I really let myself get lost in the words and the sentiment. When I got to the line “…like a lark who is learning to pray,” I brought my hands into a prayer position at my heart without thinking; it was a motion I had never done before, and it hit me.
“I go to the hills, when my heart is lonely. I know I will hear what I’ve heard before.”
I wanted to be back in the Berkshire hills. My heart was lonely, and I was missing the refuge of the musical community there.
“My heart will be blessed, with the sound of music…”
And my throat closed.
I had crossed that line that a performer needs to flirt with in performance in order to affect the audience, the line between control and indulgence, between telling a story and living the story. It is a line we should flirt with but never cross. A friend later told me that he had been just about to cry himself, because I was conveying the beauty of the song so well, but as soon as I cried, he became worried about me as a person, rather than emoting with me as the character.
The competition pianist, whom I had never met before that day and whose name I cannot remember, was completely with me. She slowed down and stopped just as I did, waited while I recovered my voice – surely a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours – then breathed with me and we finished the song, my voice shaking with held tears.
“…and I’ll sing once more.”
I didn’t even want to take a bow. I was mortified; I felt that I had let the audience down. They didn’t need to know that Anne-Carolyn Bird, the soprano, was having a rough night; they only needed to feel Maria’s joy at being in her mountains, surrounded by music. Another soprano in the competition reassured me, though, by telling me that every time she performed the role, she had to fight against the urge to cry at that point. It is a simple song, one that has become “cheesy” with overuse, but it is powerful in its simplicity. There is a reason it is a classic.
These events, I knew, made it so that I would remember this night and its lessons forever. I was almost embarrassed to be announced the winner.
Friday, January 18, 2008
FriPod: Princes
(No princesses in my iTunes, I’m afraid...)
1. Prince of Darkness, Indigo Girls, Indigo Girls
2. Rebel Prince, Rugus Wainwright, Poses
3. Prince Nez, Squirrel Nut Zipper, Hot
4. To arms, to arms, Heroic Prince, by Henry Purcell, performed by Syvlia McNair & The Academy of Ancient Music
5. A Very Nice Prince; First Midnight, from Sondheims’ Into the Woods, original cast recording
One artist: Prince, 3121 (I only have one album? This is a problem…)
1. Prince of Darkness, Indigo Girls, Indigo Girls
2. Rebel Prince, Rugus Wainwright, Poses
3. Prince Nez, Squirrel Nut Zipper, Hot
4. To arms, to arms, Heroic Prince, by Henry Purcell, performed by Syvlia McNair & The Academy of Ancient Music
5. A Very Nice Prince; First Midnight, from Sondheims’ Into the Woods, original cast recording
One artist: Prince, 3121 (I only have one album? This is a problem…)
Thursday, January 17, 2008
By Leaps and Sounds!
The Sing for Hope concert is on, barreling full speed ahead, and we even have a name: SING FOR HOPE: By Leaps and Sounds! Benefiting the Music Programs of Children’s Aid Society
Tuesday we met with six (six!) staff members of Children’s Aid Society to talk about our collaboration and how we can make the most of it in six short weeks. They had folks there from Development, Programming, Major Gifts, Marketing, and Volunteer Services, all eager to come together and make this a major event.
I talked about the evolution of the concert idea, and explained that I found CAS simply by doing a web search for NYC children’s charities. I was initially drawn to their music programs, but after a while I wondered if that was being altruistically selfish, focusing on giving in an area that directly related to me. Maybe there was a more important, more financially needy area of CAS that would benefit more from our gift. So, I told the group that we were there to help in any way we could. Imagine my joy when they responded that the Chorus and Music program is actually one of the areas that needs the most help right now!! Let that be a lesson: if a charity connects with you and the things you hold dear, they will welcome your help.
My friends have been coming forward with rep ideas, and I can already tell that it’s going to be a lovely program. I wanted to have a general theme of children or childhood, so we’ll have selections from Bernstein’s I hate music!, Schumann’s Frauenlieben und -leben, folks songs from a few different cultures, some Mahler, some Ives. I’m being joined by friends I haven’t seen a years, folks from NEC and Tanglewood as well as my friends at the Met and around New York. What an absolute joy.
On Tuesday, when we first met and shook hands with the Programming Director in the CAS lobby, he said, “I’m so excited about this, I just want to hug you! But maybe we’re not at the hugging stage yet…” By the time we parted ways an hour later, after sharing our visions and the needs of the Society and realizing that we had stumbled upon a perfect fit, there were certainly hugs.
Tuesday we met with six (six!) staff members of Children’s Aid Society to talk about our collaboration and how we can make the most of it in six short weeks. They had folks there from Development, Programming, Major Gifts, Marketing, and Volunteer Services, all eager to come together and make this a major event.
I talked about the evolution of the concert idea, and explained that I found CAS simply by doing a web search for NYC children’s charities. I was initially drawn to their music programs, but after a while I wondered if that was being altruistically selfish, focusing on giving in an area that directly related to me. Maybe there was a more important, more financially needy area of CAS that would benefit more from our gift. So, I told the group that we were there to help in any way we could. Imagine my joy when they responded that the Chorus and Music program is actually one of the areas that needs the most help right now!! Let that be a lesson: if a charity connects with you and the things you hold dear, they will welcome your help.
My friends have been coming forward with rep ideas, and I can already tell that it’s going to be a lovely program. I wanted to have a general theme of children or childhood, so we’ll have selections from Bernstein’s I hate music!, Schumann’s Frauenlieben und -leben, folks songs from a few different cultures, some Mahler, some Ives. I’m being joined by friends I haven’t seen a years, folks from NEC and Tanglewood as well as my friends at the Met and around New York. What an absolute joy.
On Tuesday, when we first met and shook hands with the Programming Director in the CAS lobby, he said, “I’m so excited about this, I just want to hug you! But maybe we’re not at the hugging stage yet…” By the time we parted ways an hour later, after sharing our visions and the needs of the Society and realizing that we had stumbled upon a perfect fit, there were certainly hugs.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A good sign...???
Tonight I passed on going to a party in order to come home and put the cuts into my Barber score.
Ummm... what?
Ummm... what?
Connected
I didn’t get home in time to see Alex’s spot on Charlie Rose last night, but I did manage to catch Marin Alsop. (And hey, look at that: I can already watch both segments online!)
Alsop’s description of one aspect of her inaugural season as Music Director of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra sounds very much like my vision for The Bhakti Project! Her idea: pair each Beethoven symphony on a program with modern works, some conducted by their composers: Adams, Adés, MacMillan. Her hope: audiences who come to the Symphony for Beethoven will see how today’s “classical music” connects with “the classics,” and those who come for the new stuff will be reminded of the continued relevance (and awesomeness) of that which came before. It is all of a piece, yo.
She talked about elements of Christopher Rouse’s music that match “ the vocabulary that kids today hear:” “brutal, rock-based, and very driven.” I was reminded of sitting in The Shed at Tanglewood, hearing the TMC Orchestra play a Tchaikovsky violin concerto with Joshua Bell. At one point, I looked back to the double bassists, tall hipster looking guys to a one, and they were rocking! out! The sounds that come from an orchestra in some of the major symphonies are not unlike the sounds you hear on heavy metal records; amplification is the major difference, to my mind. S&M, anyone?
**Update: Ok, now I’ve watched Alex’s segment. More awesome stuff here, obviously; watch them both if you missed them last night. He acknowledges the blend that is happening, not just in programming, but in the compositions themselves. Pop and folk and jazz blending with Beethoven and Stravinsky and Schoenberg. What an exciting time to be a “classical musician!”
Alsop’s description of one aspect of her inaugural season as Music Director of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra sounds very much like my vision for The Bhakti Project! Her idea: pair each Beethoven symphony on a program with modern works, some conducted by their composers: Adams, Adés, MacMillan. Her hope: audiences who come to the Symphony for Beethoven will see how today’s “classical music” connects with “the classics,” and those who come for the new stuff will be reminded of the continued relevance (and awesomeness) of that which came before. It is all of a piece, yo.
She talked about elements of Christopher Rouse’s music that match “ the vocabulary that kids today hear:” “brutal, rock-based, and very driven.” I was reminded of sitting in The Shed at Tanglewood, hearing the TMC Orchestra play a Tchaikovsky violin concerto with Joshua Bell. At one point, I looked back to the double bassists, tall hipster looking guys to a one, and they were rocking! out! The sounds that come from an orchestra in some of the major symphonies are not unlike the sounds you hear on heavy metal records; amplification is the major difference, to my mind. S&M, anyone?
**Update: Ok, now I’ve watched Alex’s segment. More awesome stuff here, obviously; watch them both if you missed them last night. He acknowledges the blend that is happening, not just in programming, but in the compositions themselves. Pop and folk and jazz blending with Beethoven and Stravinsky and Schoenberg. What an exciting time to be a “classical musician!”
A good sign
Today, when I felt the urge to say “Goodness!” (which I do from time to time; don’t judge), it came out: “Cospetta!”
Susanna is taking hold.
Another good sign: as I go through my Barber* score, more and more of the Italian is familiar to me. I recognize grammar structure; I feel the flow of the language (go to the verbs, go to the long vowels). It’s pretty cool, I have to say. I’ve spent a lot of time with this language this year, and it’s paying off.
*Didn’t mean to play coy with the new role (yes, Rosina in Il barbiere di Siviglia). I wouldn’t even have mentioned it, other than to say there was an offer, but since I write about the things that are going on NOW, I found it hard to leave it out. I thought a little guessing game might be fun until I could come right out and say it! I finally have the things I need to get my website updated, and once that’s done, there will be no secrets about what 2008 holds.
Susanna is taking hold.
Another good sign: as I go through my Barber* score, more and more of the Italian is familiar to me. I recognize grammar structure; I feel the flow of the language (go to the verbs, go to the long vowels). It’s pretty cool, I have to say. I’ve spent a lot of time with this language this year, and it’s paying off.
*Didn’t mean to play coy with the new role (yes, Rosina in Il barbiere di Siviglia). I wouldn’t even have mentioned it, other than to say there was an offer, but since I write about the things that are going on NOW, I found it hard to leave it out. I thought a little guessing game might be fun until I could come right out and say it! I finally have the things I need to get my website updated, and once that’s done, there will be no secrets about what 2008 holds.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Youth Without Youth
A few weeks ago, as I was dreaming of my birthday party even in the middle of holiday merriment, I had an idea. My birthday only happens once every four years (February 29, Leap Day!), so when a Leap Year comes around, as it does in 2008, I tend to get a little giddy with the prospect of throwing a great big party!
This year, the 29th is on a Friday, so I immediately started thinking about a blow-out bash: rent a room in a bar or club, invite every single person I know in NYC… you know the kind. This will be my 8th birthday, and I know from experience that I will get more than a few “gag” gifts: Barbies, stickers, etc.. So, I thought, why not ask my friends to intentionally bring a gift suitable for an 8-year-old? Clothes, books, toys… We could then donate everything to a children’s charity here in the city.
And then the idea grew: why not do more? Why not ask my friends to join me in a benefit concert? I recently joined the roster of Sing for Hope, an incredible non-profit organization that “supports artists who create events that benefit humanitarian causes.” With a motto of “Uniting Artists, Uniting Communities” and a roster of singers, actors, dancers, composers, pianists, and even acrobats from Cirque du Soleil, all of whom donate their time and talent, SFH “facilitates the connection between artists and charities, and provides a network of support.” Over the years, SFH has raised over a a million dollars for HIV/AIDS charities alone.
After doing a little research into children’s charities in the city, I found one that I felt I connected with, and I sent off an email to the director of SFH, asking for her help in facilitating with the charity. She loved the idea, and immediately set to work! It’s amazing working with a group that has ground-work very well laid and with people how know how to make ideas become realities. We all - representatives from SFH, the benefiting charity, and me - are hoping to meet tomorrow for a chance to talk over the idea and the program and the details. As soon as we meet, I’ll update here to let you know the organization. We are even hoping that one of their choirs of children will be able to join us on the concert!
Last week I also sent out a message to my friends, and as of now I have more participants than I know what to do with! We’ve had to shift the date to Sunday, March 2nd, instead of doing it on the 29th, because a good friend is making a big debut that night! Many of us want to attend her recital, and I wanted her to be able to join us in the concert, so we just made a slight adjustment. Stay tuned for concert rep information, but you can rest assured that we will all be singing "Paradox” from the Pirates of Penzance!
If all goes according to plan, I’d like to see this turn into the way I celebrate my birthday (or un-birthday) every year. We’re starting with a small no-fuss Sunday afternoon concert at a church; maybe by my 9th or 10th birthday we’ll be hosting a $10k/table gala ball!! This could turn into a major relationship with this charity, or we could rotate through several that feel like a good fit. What an exciting prospect, what a way to give something back...
This year, the 29th is on a Friday, so I immediately started thinking about a blow-out bash: rent a room in a bar or club, invite every single person I know in NYC… you know the kind. This will be my 8th birthday, and I know from experience that I will get more than a few “gag” gifts: Barbies, stickers, etc.. So, I thought, why not ask my friends to intentionally bring a gift suitable for an 8-year-old? Clothes, books, toys… We could then donate everything to a children’s charity here in the city.
And then the idea grew: why not do more? Why not ask my friends to join me in a benefit concert? I recently joined the roster of Sing for Hope, an incredible non-profit organization that “supports artists who create events that benefit humanitarian causes.” With a motto of “Uniting Artists, Uniting Communities” and a roster of singers, actors, dancers, composers, pianists, and even acrobats from Cirque du Soleil, all of whom donate their time and talent, SFH “facilitates the connection between artists and charities, and provides a network of support.” Over the years, SFH has raised over a a million dollars for HIV/AIDS charities alone.
After doing a little research into children’s charities in the city, I found one that I felt I connected with, and I sent off an email to the director of SFH, asking for her help in facilitating with the charity. She loved the idea, and immediately set to work! It’s amazing working with a group that has ground-work very well laid and with people how know how to make ideas become realities. We all - representatives from SFH, the benefiting charity, and me - are hoping to meet tomorrow for a chance to talk over the idea and the program and the details. As soon as we meet, I’ll update here to let you know the organization. We are even hoping that one of their choirs of children will be able to join us on the concert!
Last week I also sent out a message to my friends, and as of now I have more participants than I know what to do with! We’ve had to shift the date to Sunday, March 2nd, instead of doing it on the 29th, because a good friend is making a big debut that night! Many of us want to attend her recital, and I wanted her to be able to join us in the concert, so we just made a slight adjustment. Stay tuned for concert rep information, but you can rest assured that we will all be singing "Paradox” from the Pirates of Penzance!
If all goes according to plan, I’d like to see this turn into the way I celebrate my birthday (or un-birthday) every year. We’re starting with a small no-fuss Sunday afternoon concert at a church; maybe by my 9th or 10th birthday we’ll be hosting a $10k/table gala ball!! This could turn into a major relationship with this charity, or we could rotate through several that feel like a good fit. What an exciting prospect, what a way to give something back...
Sunday, January 13, 2008
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?
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?
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Multi-tasking
Generally I’m a “one thing at a time and the most important thing first” kind of gal, but this weekend (and next, likely) requires some special time management. So, here are some things I can to to “study” while watching Green Bay and the Pats and Indy and the Giants win their games this weekend:
* White out the terrible English translation in my new role score. Using the cool white-out tape pens, this is tedious but ultimately gives me room to write in my own literal translation, aided by Mr. Castel, of course. (Another role hint, as requested: the role is one of a handful that are sung by sopranos and mezzo-sopranos, depending on the casting preferences of the directors.)
* Mark my lines in said score. I’m not a fan of highlighting for a couple of reasons. One: the color is garish, and two: it encourages an overly focused view of the score. There’s much more going on at any one time than just my line… So I use a colored pencil to mark the start of a stave in which I have to sing, making a little upside-down L brackety thing. (Maybe a picture is called for here…) I find this especially helpful on busy recit pages where every characters’ texts are all together on one line, following after each other, just like text in a book. On these pages, I give each character his own color and bracket the start of everyone’s line. Some of the Figaro pages are quite colorful!
* Format the libretto of said opera (I’m starting to feel like Coloraturaaah with all this intrique!) for my hands-on translation documents. I started all this work for Susanna six months ago, maybe seven. I’ve got two for this one… Thankfully I’ve developed study skills and practices this year!
* Update my bio and the Bhakti Project profiles for Fractured Atlas, the Facebook group, and the NAR page.
* Blog a bit… oh, wait, that’s not working. That’s procrastinating...
* White out the terrible English translation in my new role score. Using the cool white-out tape pens, this is tedious but ultimately gives me room to write in my own literal translation, aided by Mr. Castel, of course. (Another role hint, as requested: the role is one of a handful that are sung by sopranos and mezzo-sopranos, depending on the casting preferences of the directors.)
* Mark my lines in said score. I’m not a fan of highlighting for a couple of reasons. One: the color is garish, and two: it encourages an overly focused view of the score. There’s much more going on at any one time than just my line… So I use a colored pencil to mark the start of a stave in which I have to sing, making a little upside-down L brackety thing. (Maybe a picture is called for here…) I find this especially helpful on busy recit pages where every characters’ texts are all together on one line, following after each other, just like text in a book. On these pages, I give each character his own color and bracket the start of everyone’s line. Some of the Figaro pages are quite colorful!
* Format the libretto of said opera (I’m starting to feel like Coloraturaaah with all this intrique!) for my hands-on translation documents. I started all this work for Susanna six months ago, maybe seven. I’ve got two for this one… Thankfully I’ve developed study skills and practices this year!
* Update my bio and the Bhakti Project profiles for Fractured Atlas, the Facebook group, and the NAR page.
* Blog a bit… oh, wait, that’s not working. That’s procrastinating...
Friday, January 11, 2008
FriPod: Baby
This one is for my friend KG in Seattle, who last night at this time was starting to feel that her little girl was about to make her entrance into the world! Thanks for the serendipity, Scott. **UPDATE!! Beautiful little ARG joined her mom and dad in Seattle Saturday morning! Everyone is doing beautifully, and very happy to be face to face at last. Welcome, little girl!
1. Man is the Baby, Antony & The Johnsons, I Am A Bird Now
2. Broadway Baby, Bernadette Peters, Sondheim, Etc.
3. It’s all over now, Baby Blue, Bob Dylan, The Essential Bob Dylan
4. I’ll be your baby tonight, Bob Dylan, The Essential Bob Dylan
5. Where did my baby go? John Legend, Once Again
6. My Baby, LeAnn Rimes, Blue
7. Don’t cry baby, Madeleine Peyroux, Careless Love
8. Baby be mine, Michael Jackson, Thriller
9. Sleep Baby Jane, Over the Rhine, Eve
10. Baby Brother, The White Stripes, Icky Thump
11. Baby, I love your way, Big Mountain, Reality Bites soundtrack
And two albums:
Achtung Baby, U2 (no music collection is complete without it)
My Baby Don’t Tolerate (Lyle Lovett)
1. Man is the Baby, Antony & The Johnsons, I Am A Bird Now
2. Broadway Baby, Bernadette Peters, Sondheim, Etc.
3. It’s all over now, Baby Blue, Bob Dylan, The Essential Bob Dylan
4. I’ll be your baby tonight, Bob Dylan, The Essential Bob Dylan
5. Where did my baby go? John Legend, Once Again
6. My Baby, LeAnn Rimes, Blue
7. Don’t cry baby, Madeleine Peyroux, Careless Love
8. Baby be mine, Michael Jackson, Thriller
9. Sleep Baby Jane, Over the Rhine, Eve
10. Baby Brother, The White Stripes, Icky Thump
11. Baby, I love your way, Big Mountain, Reality Bites soundtrack
And two albums:
Achtung Baby, U2 (no music collection is complete without it)
My Baby Don’t Tolerate (Lyle Lovett)
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Today I...
Ordered: a score for the summer (back to Wolf Trap, in case I haven’t mentioned that; rep to be announced soon), a book of cadenzas and variations to study for the new role this spring (hints: there will be lots of cadenzas and variations to learn (hence the book), and I share a birthday with this composer...), and another copy of the fantastic P. Craig Russell graphic novels of The Ring cycle. Two copies, actually: one for me (I used to have a set, but loaned it to a boy and then we broke up… stupid.) and one as a thank-you gift for my Walkure host. I’m not sure how it will be received, but I like to mix it up, you know? Hi-lo, always keeps it interesting...
Coached: Juliette with JD to continue the process of refining my French. She has really helped me shift my overall approach to French, helping me sing like a French person instead of an American, and that, in turn, has helped my voice blossom in the French rep. Very exciting. I’ve seen a similar shift in my Italian, through working with CL; it’s becoming “more Italian” and the musicality that is naturally tied to the language is coming out on its own. Very cool.
Emailed: a singer known to be one of the best _____’s currently singing the role and asked for any advice she could give me. I was so touched when she wrote back promptly and with fantastic tips! We worked together a couple of summers ago (another clue, for those playing along), and have stayed in touch; her energy and enthusiasm is infectious, and after reading her words I’m starting the slow shift from “omghowamigoingtolearnthisintwomonths?” to “This is going to so fun!”
Scheduled: two more Susanna coachings. I think I’ll have a total of five more coachings and another voice lesson before I leave for Grand Rapids. Which happens in 16 days… how did that happen?! Also scheduled an audition for Monday afternoon and finalized my summer plans. Finally, and much to my relief...
Chatted: with KW, catching up on life and “holding court” as we seem to. We perch somewhere for a coffee talk and just entertain friends and colleagues as they pass by. We must have hugged or waved through the window at at least a dozen folks today… Of course, we were right across the street from the Met…
Invited: another friend to join me for my exciting birthday recital project! More on this soon. But if you’re going to be in NYC the weekend of March 2 (not my birthday, but close), there will be an event that you may want to attend.
Laughed. And cried.
All this, and it’s not even dinnertime! What a great day. Dinner at home, then more studying in between internet breaks and phone calls. I love my job….
Coached: Juliette with JD to continue the process of refining my French. She has really helped me shift my overall approach to French, helping me sing like a French person instead of an American, and that, in turn, has helped my voice blossom in the French rep. Very exciting. I’ve seen a similar shift in my Italian, through working with CL; it’s becoming “more Italian” and the musicality that is naturally tied to the language is coming out on its own. Very cool.
Emailed: a singer known to be one of the best _____’s currently singing the role and asked for any advice she could give me. I was so touched when she wrote back promptly and with fantastic tips! We worked together a couple of summers ago (another clue, for those playing along), and have stayed in touch; her energy and enthusiasm is infectious, and after reading her words I’m starting the slow shift from “omghowamigoingtolearnthisintwomonths?” to “This is going to so fun!”
Scheduled: two more Susanna coachings. I think I’ll have a total of five more coachings and another voice lesson before I leave for Grand Rapids. Which happens in 16 days… how did that happen?! Also scheduled an audition for Monday afternoon and finalized my summer plans. Finally, and much to my relief...
Chatted: with KW, catching up on life and “holding court” as we seem to. We perch somewhere for a coffee talk and just entertain friends and colleagues as they pass by. We must have hugged or waved through the window at at least a dozen folks today… Of course, we were right across the street from the Met…
Invited: another friend to join me for my exciting birthday recital project! More on this soon. But if you’re going to be in NYC the weekend of March 2 (not my birthday, but close), there will be an event that you may want to attend.
Laughed. And cried.
All this, and it’s not even dinnertime! What a great day. Dinner at home, then more studying in between internet breaks and phone calls. I love my job….
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Miscellany for January 8
So much on my mind these days; time for bullet points!
* 2008 is, as of now, booked withfive six new roles (four five Leading, one Featured) so far, with three one more major role possibility (two Leading, one Featured) on the table. Gulp. As contracts get signed, I’ll post details here (and on my website, as soon as I get an ftp client for my Mac…). **UPDATE: I just got a call from my manager, and it seems a new hat has been thrown in the ring! I've been asked to come take over for a cancelled singer. For a huge role. In March. Double gulp!!
* Nothing like the best seat in the house to make one a Wagner fan. I experienced my first Wagner opera last night, Die Walkure, and I think I’ve been changed. I was nervous about making it through a five-hour evening (four hours of music plus two intermissions), but when the curtain closed on our sleeping Brunnhilde, I immediately wanted to watch the next one! Talk about a cliff-hanger… I had a beautiful view of the pit, too, and was blown away by the musicality that poured out. The English horn solos, especially, were so beautiful (I thought of you, Patti!), and what can I saw about all that brass? Awesome. I know I’ll never sing anything (maybe the Forest Bird, and wouldn’t that be poetic?), but I will be an appreciative audience member for the rest of my life. Many many thanks to my hosts for a wonderful evening.
* The growth of the “indie classical” movement continues on apace with the launch of New Amsterdam Records' new website. Streaming tracks from all of their current releases and creating a “join the community” feel by allowing anyone to create a profile, the site includes concert listings, blog postings, and, of course, an online store. It’s not a requirement that you be a NAR artist to post your information, so this will hopefully become a central “meeting ground” of sorts for musicians involved in this development of concert music.
I encourage you to spend some time letting the site’s music player run on shuffle for a while; you’ll get a nice cross-section of the music that is pushing this movement. (JL, I think you will especially enjoy Sam Sadigursky’s The Words Project.)
* I was motivated by the invitation to join the NAR site to finally get the tracks from the May 07 Bhakti recital cleaned up. You can hear a couple of them on my NAR page (Bolcom’s “Waitin” and Barber’s “St. Ita's Vision”), along with a more “traditionally new music-y” song from my stint at Tanglewood in 2004, Grace Choi’s “hist wist.” I’ve also updated my MySpace page tracks, including “Waitin” and adding a Harbison tune, “Why Mira can't go back to her old house.”
(The recording of Hillula, the centerpiece of the recital, is very good, but not ready for public consumption. It reminded the three of us how much we loved the piece, though, and has spurred us on for the next phase: revisions and 2nd recital plans are underway!)
That’s all for now. More thoughts on said “indie classical movement” coming soon…
* 2008 is, as of now, booked with
* Nothing like the best seat in the house to make one a Wagner fan. I experienced my first Wagner opera last night, Die Walkure, and I think I’ve been changed. I was nervous about making it through a five-hour evening (four hours of music plus two intermissions), but when the curtain closed on our sleeping Brunnhilde, I immediately wanted to watch the next one! Talk about a cliff-hanger… I had a beautiful view of the pit, too, and was blown away by the musicality that poured out. The English horn solos, especially, were so beautiful (I thought of you, Patti!), and what can I saw about all that brass? Awesome. I know I’ll never sing anything (maybe the Forest Bird, and wouldn’t that be poetic?), but I will be an appreciative audience member for the rest of my life. Many many thanks to my hosts for a wonderful evening.
* The growth of the “indie classical” movement continues on apace with the launch of New Amsterdam Records' new website. Streaming tracks from all of their current releases and creating a “join the community” feel by allowing anyone to create a profile, the site includes concert listings, blog postings, and, of course, an online store. It’s not a requirement that you be a NAR artist to post your information, so this will hopefully become a central “meeting ground” of sorts for musicians involved in this development of concert music.
I encourage you to spend some time letting the site’s music player run on shuffle for a while; you’ll get a nice cross-section of the music that is pushing this movement. (JL, I think you will especially enjoy Sam Sadigursky’s The Words Project.)
* I was motivated by the invitation to join the NAR site to finally get the tracks from the May 07 Bhakti recital cleaned up. You can hear a couple of them on my NAR page (Bolcom’s “Waitin” and Barber’s “St. Ita's Vision”), along with a more “traditionally new music-y” song from my stint at Tanglewood in 2004, Grace Choi’s “hist wist.” I’ve also updated my MySpace page tracks, including “Waitin” and adding a Harbison tune, “Why Mira can't go back to her old house.”
(The recording of Hillula, the centerpiece of the recital, is very good, but not ready for public consumption. It reminded the three of us how much we loved the piece, though, and has spurred us on for the next phase: revisions and 2nd recital plans are underway!)
That’s all for now. More thoughts on said “indie classical movement” coming soon…
Thursday, January 03, 2008
An exchange
From a conversation with my roommate, as we were talking about our travel schedules for the first half of this year:
“Well, I’ll be in Michigan during most of February.”
“Oh yeah? What for?”
“Well, Figaro, mostly!”
“Oh, I thought Figaro was next February! I thought all the studying you were doing was you just getting a big head start!”
Oh, AP, if only that were the case!
No, in all seriousness, I think I’m in good shape. Act I feels solid, 80-90% memorized, and Act II, the biggest one for me musically, is well on its way. Solidly learned, probably around 50-60% memorized. The recits have been coming fairly easily, to my surprise, with the big ensembles proving a bit harder to memorize. The scene with Antonio in the Act II Finale is fully of one-line interjections that I’m just going to have to drill over and over.
So, I’m off to do just that! I’ve got a couple of hours to work this afternoon, then off to meet the blackbirds!
“Well, I’ll be in Michigan during most of February.”
“Oh yeah? What for?”
“Well, Figaro, mostly!”
“Oh, I thought Figaro was next February! I thought all the studying you were doing was you just getting a big head start!”
Oh, AP, if only that were the case!
No, in all seriousness, I think I’m in good shape. Act I feels solid, 80-90% memorized, and Act II, the biggest one for me musically, is well on its way. Solidly learned, probably around 50-60% memorized. The recits have been coming fairly easily, to my surprise, with the big ensembles proving a bit harder to memorize. The scene with Antonio in the Act II Finale is fully of one-line interjections that I’m just going to have to drill over and over.
So, I’m off to do just that! I’ve got a couple of hours to work this afternoon, then off to meet the blackbirds!
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Ways in which 2008 has already started out well
* I toasted at midnight with the (very excellent) champagne from my Met debut, surrounded by great musicians and good friends.
* My first “visitor” of the year (and by that I mean phone call) was from a tall, dark, handsome man. (I just learned about that portent for good luck yesterday…)
* I watched the Hansel & Gretel hi-def broadcast from the Met Green Room, sharing tales of New Year’s Eve adventures with LW.
* For New Year’s dinner I cooked a traditional Southern meal of black-eyed peas with collards (and rice and cornbread) for the Brooklyn Birds and EN.
* The Bulldogs are solidly trouncing Hawaii. (Sorry, guys, I know U of H was the emotional favorite, but come on. Get an offensive line!!)
* I just watched bits of Il Trittico on Great Performances and relived that fabulous experience.
* Tomorrow I’m back in the pit for more Macbeth with that fantastic orchestra and Mo. Levine.
* The rest of the week is full of concerts (flute & viola at IcoMusic and Ljova et al at Joe’s Pub), workshops, meetings (possibly the Bhakti Project ’09 program?!), and hopefully the Chamber Music America conference over the weekend. Add a couple of auditions, and it seems we are back in the saddle.
I thoroughly expect the rest of the year to be as awesome!
* My first “visitor” of the year (and by that I mean phone call) was from a tall, dark, handsome man. (I just learned about that portent for good luck yesterday…)
* I watched the Hansel & Gretel hi-def broadcast from the Met Green Room, sharing tales of New Year’s Eve adventures with LW.
* For New Year’s dinner I cooked a traditional Southern meal of black-eyed peas with collards (and rice and cornbread) for the Brooklyn Birds and EN.
* The Bulldogs are solidly trouncing Hawaii. (Sorry, guys, I know U of H was the emotional favorite, but come on. Get an offensive line!!)
* I just watched bits of Il Trittico on Great Performances and relived that fabulous experience.
* Tomorrow I’m back in the pit for more Macbeth with that fantastic orchestra and Mo. Levine.
* The rest of the week is full of concerts (flute & viola at IcoMusic and Ljova et al at Joe’s Pub), workshops, meetings (possibly the Bhakti Project ’09 program?!), and hopefully the Chamber Music America conference over the weekend. Add a couple of auditions, and it seems we are back in the saddle.
I thoroughly expect the rest of the year to be as awesome!
Monday, December 31, 2007
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.)
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.)
Friday, December 28, 2007
Blogroll Update, Winter ‘07-’08
Blogroll Update, Winter ‘07-’08
Full list here, as always, with these latest additions on the sidebar to the left.
Aurgasm - Your favorite music you’ve never heard, streaming weekly.
The Budget Fashionista - Looking great without breaking the bank
Daniel Felsenfeld - composer, music writer, fellow NEC alum
Dial M for Musicology - They say they even welcome air-guitarists, so I dig these guys.
Feast of Music - excellent NYC concert reviews
Good Vibrato - the Wordless Music folks combining art and music
Jonathan Biss, pianist - irregular but thoughtful postings about making music.
Operavision - Aprile Millo joins the blogosphere, and we are the better for it.
Strange Maps - My dad taught me to read a map when I was a kid, and I’ve loved them ever since. I’ve even started collected maps from places I travel to sing.
And a blog I’ve been following for over a year but was very surprised to not see on my Blogroll! Sorry Mr. Dickie… Chicago Opera Theater
Full list here, as always, with these latest additions on the sidebar to the left.
Aurgasm - Your favorite music you’ve never heard, streaming weekly.
The Budget Fashionista - Looking great without breaking the bank
Daniel Felsenfeld - composer, music writer, fellow NEC alum
Dial M for Musicology - They say they even welcome air-guitarists, so I dig these guys.
Feast of Music - excellent NYC concert reviews
Good Vibrato - the Wordless Music folks combining art and music
Jonathan Biss, pianist - irregular but thoughtful postings about making music.
Operavision - Aprile Millo joins the blogosphere, and we are the better for it.
Strange Maps - My dad taught me to read a map when I was a kid, and I’ve loved them ever since. I’ve even started collected maps from places I travel to sing.
And a blog I’ve been following for over a year but was very surprised to not see on my Blogroll! Sorry Mr. Dickie… Chicago Opera Theater
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Learned and Learning
To wrap up the year, here is a list of things I that learned in 2007 and things I am still learning:
* Boundaries are very important, both personal and professional. I’m learning how to say no, not just maybe. This applies to gigs, dates, projects, even auditions. I need to take time and think about how each “yes” will affect the big picture of what I want my path to look like, both my career path and my life path. I’m thinking about starting up with talk therapy again to help me with this new phase of my career and my life.
* Heartbreaks are inevitable. Good girlfriends are priceless.
* I’m enjoying learning how to be environmentally responsible. Living in NYC, my carbon footprint is already lower than average, but I’ve started timing my showers (4-6 minutes most days), carrying stylish Envirosax in all my purses instead of using store plastic bags for purchases, taking non-stop flights - or the train! - whenever possible, unplugging my electronics. It feels good.
* Writing an item on my “To Do” list over and over does not get it accomplished any faster. I’m determined not to carry-over any “to do’s” into 2008, so this next week should be a productive one (she says hopefully)! I still owe many of you your Fractured Atlas receipts for your generous Bhakti Project donations; rest assured you will have them well before tax-time, and likely before you get your tax documents from your employers!
*As much as I love to perform, nothing beats seeing a show. Indie rock, Broadway, opera, symphony, recital… I saw some wonderful performances this year and hope to see more next year.
*Hard work pays off, but usually with more hard work to come. A satisfying cycle.
Here is a list of favorite posts from the year. Many of them seem to involve discoveries, too, so I’ve listed the post and what I feel it says I learned. It was a year of growth and learning, like any good year should be.
Beware explosive consonants - What I learned is right there in the title.
The Song of the Lark - We read to see our lives through others’ eyes.
Blocking - Some things I learned long ago are still with me.
Kitchen Sink - I blog to see my life through the lens of the Moment.
A Day In the Life - I love my job and my life in NYC.
Home, On the Road - I can also live well on the road.
Doing vs. Being - Just Be It.
Dear Friend, Leaving So Soon - Some people never leave you.
Lifelines - See above about girlfriends.
My Sweet Manhattan Hometown - Nothing beats a live performance!
The Evolution of the Headshot - Change is good.
Shimmering, Sparkling - It’s ok to be bold and daring!
a Dream - It is possible to be a bit too focused...
Finale - All good things come to an end.
2007 was the year of my Met Debut: Part 1: Leading Up, Part 2: Performance, and Part 3: After Party
And that of a small recital project that ate my life. Here is the Bhakti Project Year in Review. What did I learn through this experience? Hopefully that will be evident next year as the project continues, but mostly I learned, as with all of these things, that I have a lot to learn.
Happy New Year, everyone!!
* Boundaries are very important, both personal and professional. I’m learning how to say no, not just maybe. This applies to gigs, dates, projects, even auditions. I need to take time and think about how each “yes” will affect the big picture of what I want my path to look like, both my career path and my life path. I’m thinking about starting up with talk therapy again to help me with this new phase of my career and my life.
* Heartbreaks are inevitable. Good girlfriends are priceless.
* I’m enjoying learning how to be environmentally responsible. Living in NYC, my carbon footprint is already lower than average, but I’ve started timing my showers (4-6 minutes most days), carrying stylish Envirosax in all my purses instead of using store plastic bags for purchases, taking non-stop flights - or the train! - whenever possible, unplugging my electronics. It feels good.
* Writing an item on my “To Do” list over and over does not get it accomplished any faster. I’m determined not to carry-over any “to do’s” into 2008, so this next week should be a productive one (she says hopefully)! I still owe many of you your Fractured Atlas receipts for your generous Bhakti Project donations; rest assured you will have them well before tax-time, and likely before you get your tax documents from your employers!
*As much as I love to perform, nothing beats seeing a show. Indie rock, Broadway, opera, symphony, recital… I saw some wonderful performances this year and hope to see more next year.
*Hard work pays off, but usually with more hard work to come. A satisfying cycle.
Here is a list of favorite posts from the year. Many of them seem to involve discoveries, too, so I’ve listed the post and what I feel it says I learned. It was a year of growth and learning, like any good year should be.
Beware explosive consonants - What I learned is right there in the title.
The Song of the Lark - We read to see our lives through others’ eyes.
Blocking - Some things I learned long ago are still with me.
Kitchen Sink - I blog to see my life through the lens of the Moment.
A Day In the Life - I love my job and my life in NYC.
Home, On the Road - I can also live well on the road.
Doing vs. Being - Just Be It.
Dear Friend, Leaving So Soon - Some people never leave you.
Lifelines - See above about girlfriends.
My Sweet Manhattan Hometown - Nothing beats a live performance!
The Evolution of the Headshot - Change is good.
Shimmering, Sparkling - It’s ok to be bold and daring!
a Dream - It is possible to be a bit too focused...
Finale - All good things come to an end.
2007 was the year of my Met Debut: Part 1: Leading Up, Part 2: Performance, and Part 3: After Party
And that of a small recital project that ate my life. Here is the Bhakti Project Year in Review. What did I learn through this experience? Hopefully that will be evident next year as the project continues, but mostly I learned, as with all of these things, that I have a lot to learn.
Happy New Year, everyone!!
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Blog Break, Study Break
For no reason I can figure, I’m still suffering writer’s block. Things are fine, life is good; I’m just not writing! I’m very busy studying (and loving it), so that might be part of it, but until inspiration strikes, I’m going to go on a short hiatus over the holidays.
I’m trying to figure out how I want to try to sum up this year (like I did in 05 and 06), so hopefully there will be at least one more post before the New Year. But until then, you can picture me in my little hobbit hole of an apartment, studying my score and utilizing two great tools I haven’t yet discussed: GarageBand for recording my lessons and coachings directly into my Mac and having digital access to the recording; it’s an incredible study tool! And Opera Practice Perfect cds for repetition and repetition and repetition.
I wish all of you the Merriest of Christmases and the Happiest of New Years!! 2007 was a pretty great year, I have to say, but I’m still looking forward to turning the calendar. Who knows what wonders await us all in 2008?!
I’m trying to figure out how I want to try to sum up this year (like I did in 05 and 06), so hopefully there will be at least one more post before the New Year. But until then, you can picture me in my little hobbit hole of an apartment, studying my score and utilizing two great tools I haven’t yet discussed: GarageBand for recording my lessons and coachings directly into my Mac and having digital access to the recording; it’s an incredible study tool! And Opera Practice Perfect cds for repetition and repetition and repetition.
I wish all of you the Merriest of Christmases and the Happiest of New Years!! 2007 was a pretty great year, I have to say, but I’m still looking forward to turning the calendar. Who knows what wonders await us all in 2008?!
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.
A pickup opera
Tonight I took a study break and headed to the Upper West Side to hear some friends in a concert of Bach Advent cantatas, and boy, am I glad!
I loved walking through the cold night, reciting lines of recit in my head (and sometimes out loud). I loved seeing people, young and old, on their way to holiday parties, dressed to the nines. I loved walking past the Met and knowing that I would be home again before I was even officially on-call for tonight’s performance of War & Peace! (My character doesn’t come on until about 10:45...) And, of course, I loved hearing Bach, my first musical love, I think. I sang several Bach cantatas in grad school, and those performances are still among my favorites. I think If I had another musical life to live, I would play the Baroque trumpet. Man, do they get some great music! I heard some fantastic singing as well, and ran into several friends-of-friends. But what happened at the reception is the real reason I’m glad I went.
I saw “my Figaro,” MB, at intermission, and we talked a bit with DN (with whom I often coach) and our mutual friends; it came up at this point that we would be singing together in February. At the reception, I mentioned to DN that I would be calling him to set up weekly “Susanna run sessions*” for the next few weeks, and he said, “Oh, MB should come, too; we’ll set up a cast and work through the whole opera. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Um, YES!
He said he’d send out an email tonight and try to round folks up; we think the Count and Countess from our cast will also be in NYC in January. DN will work his connections to try to fill the rest of the parts, and voila! We’ll have a cast! If it works according to plan, we’ll meet a few times, maybe once per act, and just run it. I was already planning to rope some friends into coming to coachings with me to work on recits and duets, and this is just the next best thing. I’m very excited!
It’s 10:45, so I’m officially “off the clock” for the night. Time for a glass of wine and some more studying... Wild and crazy Saturday nights!
*I don’t know if that’s an official term, but to my mind a run session - or run-through session, maybe - is different than a coaching in that we don’t stop and work. I just sing things through a few times to help “get them into my voice.” More on this in another post. (I’m always saying that, aren’t I?!)
I loved walking through the cold night, reciting lines of recit in my head (and sometimes out loud). I loved seeing people, young and old, on their way to holiday parties, dressed to the nines. I loved walking past the Met and knowing that I would be home again before I was even officially on-call for tonight’s performance of War & Peace! (My character doesn’t come on until about 10:45...) And, of course, I loved hearing Bach, my first musical love, I think. I sang several Bach cantatas in grad school, and those performances are still among my favorites. I think If I had another musical life to live, I would play the Baroque trumpet. Man, do they get some great music! I heard some fantastic singing as well, and ran into several friends-of-friends. But what happened at the reception is the real reason I’m glad I went.
I saw “my Figaro,” MB, at intermission, and we talked a bit with DN (with whom I often coach) and our mutual friends; it came up at this point that we would be singing together in February. At the reception, I mentioned to DN that I would be calling him to set up weekly “Susanna run sessions*” for the next few weeks, and he said, “Oh, MB should come, too; we’ll set up a cast and work through the whole opera. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Um, YES!
He said he’d send out an email tonight and try to round folks up; we think the Count and Countess from our cast will also be in NYC in January. DN will work his connections to try to fill the rest of the parts, and voila! We’ll have a cast! If it works according to plan, we’ll meet a few times, maybe once per act, and just run it. I was already planning to rope some friends into coming to coachings with me to work on recits and duets, and this is just the next best thing. I’m very excited!
It’s 10:45, so I’m officially “off the clock” for the night. Time for a glass of wine and some more studying... Wild and crazy Saturday nights!
*I don’t know if that’s an official term, but to my mind a run session - or run-through session, maybe - is different than a coaching in that we don’t stop and work. I just sing things through a few times to help “get them into my voice.” More on this in another post. (I’m always saying that, aren’t I?!)
Friday, December 14, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Goes to show
You can just never tell. I sang an audition last week on a day when I felt terrible, not physically sick, but totally down in the dumps. The uncertainty of this season - auditions and the implied rejection that comes with them, making decisions about the direction of my career - coupled with nasty weather, a mouse in my apartment, not getting to leave town for the holidays, etc., has made for a rough couple of weeks.
On this day, I felt like I probably sang ok, but didn’t walk out of the audition room feeling like I’d nailed it, or even like I’d “done my best.” It was an off day. I’m generally pleased with my auditions, but this day I was in. a. funk. My manager even said that she could tell, not in the way I sang or performed in the audition, but she could sense that my energy was just “off.”
And yet: today she told me I got an offer from that company! A good one, too. A standard rep kind of role, and not in English, even! I’m excited and encouraged, and more than a little surprised. Sometimes you are just not aware of what you’re putting out there, you know? I am learning that I am well-trained enough - vocally, mentally, and in general performance aspects - that even on an off day, I know how to do my job well. My job is to sing, to tell a story, and I can do it, even when conditions are less than ideal. A good lesson to learn...
2008 is filling up very nicely, and there are more inquiries on the table moving into 2009. Hopefully this period of uncertainty is coming to an end. (Rest assured, though, there will be others!) I’ve been spending good times with good friends, trying to get the most out of the other season that’s currently taking over NYC: Christmas!
On this day, I felt like I probably sang ok, but didn’t walk out of the audition room feeling like I’d nailed it, or even like I’d “done my best.” It was an off day. I’m generally pleased with my auditions, but this day I was in. a. funk. My manager even said that she could tell, not in the way I sang or performed in the audition, but she could sense that my energy was just “off.”
And yet: today she told me I got an offer from that company! A good one, too. A standard rep kind of role, and not in English, even! I’m excited and encouraged, and more than a little surprised. Sometimes you are just not aware of what you’re putting out there, you know? I am learning that I am well-trained enough - vocally, mentally, and in general performance aspects - that even on an off day, I know how to do my job well. My job is to sing, to tell a story, and I can do it, even when conditions are less than ideal. A good lesson to learn...
2008 is filling up very nicely, and there are more inquiries on the table moving into 2009. Hopefully this period of uncertainty is coming to an end. (Rest assured, though, there will be others!) I’ve been spending good times with good friends, trying to get the most out of the other season that’s currently taking over NYC: Christmas!
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.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
FriPod: Accidently to After
1. Accidently Kelly Street, Frente, Marvin the Album
2. Acrobat, U2, Achtung Baby
3. Across the Universe, Rufus Wainwright, Poses
4. Action / Adventure, Andrew Bird, Weather Systems
5. Ada, The National, Boxer
6. Adé, David Byrne, The Catherine Wheel
7. Adventures in Solitude, The New Pornographers, Challengers
8. Advice for the Young at Heart, Tears for Fears, The Seeds of Love
9. After it All, Cat Power, The Greatest
10. After the Bombs, The Decemberists, The Crane Wife
2. Acrobat, U2, Achtung Baby
3. Across the Universe, Rufus Wainwright, Poses
4. Action / Adventure, Andrew Bird, Weather Systems
5. Ada, The National, Boxer
6. Adé, David Byrne, The Catherine Wheel
7. Adventures in Solitude, The New Pornographers, Challengers
8. Advice for the Young at Heart, Tears for Fears, The Seeds of Love
9. After it All, Cat Power, The Greatest
10. After the Bombs, The Decemberists, The Crane Wife
Out of Your Head
I’ve been planning a post for weeks, maybe months, about the importance of getting out of your head and into your body as a singer, and, well, here it is. (Ed. Note: It’s true; I started this post in July...)
The idea first came to me while watching “the big stars” in rehearsals at the Met this past year. Singers who have extensive backgrounds in physical arts - like Diana Damrau (dance) and Rolando Villazon (clowning), for example, two folks I got to see in action – are such a joy to watch onstage! They are not only more comfortable with crazy stage actions like lying down to sing or running or dancing, but they are also able to use their full instrument (it’s more than just the voice!) to engage the listener and to tell the story. Their minds were were completely present on stage, or, at least, so it seemed from the outside. Which, ultimately, is what you want.
It’s as if they’re not actively “thinking.” Singing for them is a physical act, not a cerebral one. Of course, of course: the mind is involved, and the hours of “armchair work” studying languages and rhythms and endless drilling of memory are not unimportant. But when it comes time to get a character on her feet? It’s physical. Not to mention the fact that our actual instrument is located in the body, not the mind...
I can add now, in December, Bryn Terfel: I don’t know what his dance/movement/sports background is, other than rugby, but he is a great physical actor, someone who definitely just goes and there and plays. He has obviously put a lot of thought into his performance and practice and character, but the cerebral brain is turned off on-stage. More on physicality and my Figaro experience in another post.
One night this summer, over at RM’s for dinner, LB and I started waltzing in the kitchen (doing our best to get in the way as much as possible). It began just kind of silly (sillily?), but it didn’t take me long to realize that he actually knew how to waltz! So, instead of just playing around, I had to actively turn of the thinking part of my brain and just give over to the physical act of dancing. When I could let go and let him lead, it was smooth sailing. (It’s so nice to dance with a tall man who knows how to dance, right?) But as soon as my head got involved again, we were at odds (but only slightly). I’m not saying you shouldn’t think when you’re on-stage; obviously, you have to. But it is possible to get in your way.
When students ask me what they should do with themselves while they are building their voices, waiting the 5-10 years between finishing school and being ready (maybe) to work, I encourage them to dance. Take any kind of dance class - ballroom, modern, jazz, ballet, hip-hop, whatever. Or take martial arts or fencing. Anything that gets you out of your mental, analytic, judgmental self and into your physical, instinctual, visceral self. Get out of your head and into your body. Your voice will thank you for it.
The idea first came to me while watching “the big stars” in rehearsals at the Met this past year. Singers who have extensive backgrounds in physical arts - like Diana Damrau (dance) and Rolando Villazon (clowning), for example, two folks I got to see in action – are such a joy to watch onstage! They are not only more comfortable with crazy stage actions like lying down to sing or running or dancing, but they are also able to use their full instrument (it’s more than just the voice!) to engage the listener and to tell the story. Their minds were were completely present on stage, or, at least, so it seemed from the outside. Which, ultimately, is what you want.
It’s as if they’re not actively “thinking.” Singing for them is a physical act, not a cerebral one. Of course, of course: the mind is involved, and the hours of “armchair work” studying languages and rhythms and endless drilling of memory are not unimportant. But when it comes time to get a character on her feet? It’s physical. Not to mention the fact that our actual instrument is located in the body, not the mind...
I can add now, in December, Bryn Terfel: I don’t know what his dance/movement/sports background is, other than rugby, but he is a great physical actor, someone who definitely just goes and there and plays. He has obviously put a lot of thought into his performance and practice and character, but the cerebral brain is turned off on-stage. More on physicality and my Figaro experience in another post.
One night this summer, over at RM’s for dinner, LB and I started waltzing in the kitchen (doing our best to get in the way as much as possible). It began just kind of silly (sillily?), but it didn’t take me long to realize that he actually knew how to waltz! So, instead of just playing around, I had to actively turn of the thinking part of my brain and just give over to the physical act of dancing. When I could let go and let him lead, it was smooth sailing. (It’s so nice to dance with a tall man who knows how to dance, right?) But as soon as my head got involved again, we were at odds (but only slightly). I’m not saying you shouldn’t think when you’re on-stage; obviously, you have to. But it is possible to get in your way.
When students ask me what they should do with themselves while they are building their voices, waiting the 5-10 years between finishing school and being ready (maybe) to work, I encourage them to dance. Take any kind of dance class - ballroom, modern, jazz, ballet, hip-hop, whatever. Or take martial arts or fencing. Anything that gets you out of your mental, analytic, judgmental self and into your physical, instinctual, visceral self. Get out of your head and into your body. Your voice will thank you for it.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Backlog
My life has been taken over by this beautiful little machine, so sorry - again! - for the quiet days. I’ve got a backlog of posts that I’ll try to get out this coming week. And it’s a serious backlog, too! I have half-finished posts from all the way back to mid-summer... Good stuff, though, and still relevant in the general sense. So I’ll get to it.
Here’s what to expect:
12/9: This week’s FriPod
Prompt
Doing vs. Being (Oops. This one actually got written and published, but I didn't get it out of my drafts folder. Read it here.)
12/12: Acting with the voice and stage physicality. 12/9: Part One is here: Out of Your Head
Ensemble
Level Up - we’re not kids anymore
Language work
Envy
The latest on The Bhakti Project
I know some folks have asked questions in the comments over the past year or so. If you did, and you still remember your question (and care about the answer!), please post it again on this post. I’m going to try to keep a better tab on questions in the future, hopefully answering them all. Eventually.
Here’s what to expect:
12/9: This week’s FriPod
Prompt
12/12: Acting with the voice and stage physicality. 12/9: Part One is here: Out of Your Head
Ensemble
Level Up - we’re not kids anymore
Language work
Envy
The latest on The Bhakti Project
I know some folks have asked questions in the comments over the past year or so. If you did, and you still remember your question (and care about the answer!), please post it again on this post. I’m going to try to keep a better tab on questions in the future, hopefully answering them all. Eventually.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Upgrades
Jessica gave me props a few days ago for actually doing what I said I was going to do and posting every day last week. I was pretty proud of that, myself, but the posts just came up naturally and easily and I had the time and energy to write. But the downside to such regularity? Some people think they can give you a hard time when you’ve been quiet for two days... I say: get back to work, already!
I hate to mention the reason for my lack of postage when another music blogger is struggling mightily with his new PC. Yes, I got a Mac. And last night I only slept about five hours because of it! So many things to learn! So many music files to transfer and try not to loose in the process! It’s kind of awesome, and all-consuming. (I’m sorry, Steve; I’m really not gloating. I feel your pain...)
This computer was my Sullivan award-funded gift to myself. I did a little clothes shopping, but my heart was really set on getting a smaller laptop that could actually stream media or run iTunes while I write or surf the web and not run slow as molasses. The overheating of was a problem, too; it was just time to upgrade. I got tired of having to skip over all the links my blog buddies posted for awesome YouTube videos or streaming concerts, and I couldn’t have even dreamed of exploring an online library of recordings. But at this moment I am listening to a lovely Herbie Hancock album on iTunes, a gift from JL (thank you!!), and yesterday I watched my first opera video on YouTube: my sweet friend LW singing Cendrillon! Awesome.
Lest you think I frittered away all my prize money, I thought I’d share (in general terms) how I used the bulk of the prize. Most singers at my stage of the game have two things in common, financially-speaking: lots of debt, both low-interest school loans and high-interest consumer debt; and no retirement savings (or savings of any kind, even). I am no exception. Add a move cross-country and a divorce in 2006, and I haven’t been in great financial shape until recently. This year I obtained both the means and the will to change that.
So, with some of the Sullivan money, I made a huge credit card payment. Because of my W2 status at the Met and Wolf Trap this year, I will likely get a large tax refund; that will also go to the credit card (minus a small shopping trip, of course). If things continue on apace, I will be consumer debt free by the end of 2008! Yay!!
After a conversation with another Sullivan awardee, I decided to put the rest of the money into a retirement account. I haven’t figured out whether to go Roth, SEP, 401(k), or what, but I will be making the maximum annual contribution to get things started. I’m 31, and I have no idea when I want to retire - or what retirement even means for a singer - but I need to start planning for the future. Whatever that may be.
I feel very, very lucky to be able to write this post. This fall I’ve been much more disciplined with my savings and spending, but I know that my newly found (more) stable financial footing is due is large part to the good fortune of having some great jobs this season. What will 08-09 hold in this regard? I have absolutely no idea. Right now, there are only two jobs on the calendar, and one of them is still “in pencil.”
So, best to plan ahead.
I hate to mention the reason for my lack of postage when another music blogger is struggling mightily with his new PC. Yes, I got a Mac. And last night I only slept about five hours because of it! So many things to learn! So many music files to transfer and try not to loose in the process! It’s kind of awesome, and all-consuming. (I’m sorry, Steve; I’m really not gloating. I feel your pain...)
This computer was my Sullivan award-funded gift to myself. I did a little clothes shopping, but my heart was really set on getting a smaller laptop that could actually stream media or run iTunes while I write or surf the web and not run slow as molasses. The overheating of was a problem, too; it was just time to upgrade. I got tired of having to skip over all the links my blog buddies posted for awesome YouTube videos or streaming concerts, and I couldn’t have even dreamed of exploring an online library of recordings. But at this moment I am listening to a lovely Herbie Hancock album on iTunes, a gift from JL (thank you!!), and yesterday I watched my first opera video on YouTube: my sweet friend LW singing Cendrillon! Awesome.
Lest you think I frittered away all my prize money, I thought I’d share (in general terms) how I used the bulk of the prize. Most singers at my stage of the game have two things in common, financially-speaking: lots of debt, both low-interest school loans and high-interest consumer debt; and no retirement savings (or savings of any kind, even). I am no exception. Add a move cross-country and a divorce in 2006, and I haven’t been in great financial shape until recently. This year I obtained both the means and the will to change that.
So, with some of the Sullivan money, I made a huge credit card payment. Because of my W2 status at the Met and Wolf Trap this year, I will likely get a large tax refund; that will also go to the credit card (minus a small shopping trip, of course). If things continue on apace, I will be consumer debt free by the end of 2008! Yay!!
After a conversation with another Sullivan awardee, I decided to put the rest of the money into a retirement account. I haven’t figured out whether to go Roth, SEP, 401(k), or what, but I will be making the maximum annual contribution to get things started. I’m 31, and I have no idea when I want to retire - or what retirement even means for a singer - but I need to start planning for the future. Whatever that may be.
I feel very, very lucky to be able to write this post. This fall I’ve been much more disciplined with my savings and spending, but I know that my newly found (more) stable financial footing is due is large part to the good fortune of having some great jobs this season. What will 08-09 hold in this regard? I have absolutely no idea. Right now, there are only two jobs on the calendar, and one of them is still “in pencil.”
So, best to plan ahead.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Finale
It took me until about 4:00 today to figure out why I was in such a funk. Was it the snow? The fact that I still haven’t stopped at Kashkaval for more coffee, making my usual morning ritual impossible? The fact that neither the Indy nor the Denver game would be broadcast in my area this afternoon? The desire for new winter boots? What?!
Then I realized: I had post-show blues. When a show ends, particularly a show you loved working on, it’s not uncommon to get a little depressed. And, as I think you know, I really loved this show. What more could I have asked for, really, for my first Italian Mozart experience? Not much.
Last night was a final show in more ways than one, being Bryn’s final go at the role of Figaro as well as the last show of our run. During the last number of the Finale (Mozart “finales” are usually 7 or 8 numbers long; go figure.) when everyone is essentially singing “hey, let’s all go party!” Simon had arranged with the folks at the Met to bring champagne flutes (filled with champagne, even!) onto the stage, so all the principals could toast Bryn – and each other – as we sang our last chorus together. It was a bit chaotic (I didn’t actually get my champagne until after we’d stopped singing!), and I’m sure the Maestro was going crazy trying to keep our attention, but what a way to end. The curtain dropped, and instead of rushing off-stage right away as normal, we all started hugging and toasting, prompting Jonathan, our stage manager, to hurry out and say “Come on, you still have to do the bows!”
So we reconvened in the tiny corner off-stage left, cheering and toasting some more, everyone trying to get through the crowd to hug Bryn, and making sure we drained our flutes before heading out to bow. (Well, all of us except MM, who carried his back out onstage and sweetly toasted the audience.) It was, as every night, so much fun. Are you guys getting tired of reading those three little words?!
Two colleagues from grad school were in the audience last night, along with the Brooklyn Birds and my former teacher. What has been even more fun than knowing people are in the audience is getting emails after shows from friends who went to the opera not knowing I was going to be singing! Or people who knew, but didn’t tell me before they came. After every show, I’ve gotten such wonderful comments and insights from friends old and new.
I am naturally sad to leave all of that behind. Now I face two months devoid of performing (other than auditions), two months of hard-core studying for February’s gigs. I’m entering a hibernating period at the coldest, darkest time of the year, a fact that has me a bit daunted, I think. But there are new projects in the brainstorming stage, current projects ready for the next phase, and Susanna, who will be a dear companion this winter, so I journey on.
Then I realized: I had post-show blues. When a show ends, particularly a show you loved working on, it’s not uncommon to get a little depressed. And, as I think you know, I really loved this show. What more could I have asked for, really, for my first Italian Mozart experience? Not much.
Last night was a final show in more ways than one, being Bryn’s final go at the role of Figaro as well as the last show of our run. During the last number of the Finale (Mozart “finales” are usually 7 or 8 numbers long; go figure.) when everyone is essentially singing “hey, let’s all go party!” Simon had arranged with the folks at the Met to bring champagne flutes (filled with champagne, even!) onto the stage, so all the principals could toast Bryn – and each other – as we sang our last chorus together. It was a bit chaotic (I didn’t actually get my champagne until after we’d stopped singing!), and I’m sure the Maestro was going crazy trying to keep our attention, but what a way to end. The curtain dropped, and instead of rushing off-stage right away as normal, we all started hugging and toasting, prompting Jonathan, our stage manager, to hurry out and say “Come on, you still have to do the bows!”
So we reconvened in the tiny corner off-stage left, cheering and toasting some more, everyone trying to get through the crowd to hug Bryn, and making sure we drained our flutes before heading out to bow. (Well, all of us except MM, who carried his back out onstage and sweetly toasted the audience.) It was, as every night, so much fun. Are you guys getting tired of reading those three little words?!
Two colleagues from grad school were in the audience last night, along with the Brooklyn Birds and my former teacher. What has been even more fun than knowing people are in the audience is getting emails after shows from friends who went to the opera not knowing I was going to be singing! Or people who knew, but didn’t tell me before they came. After every show, I’ve gotten such wonderful comments and insights from friends old and new.
I am naturally sad to leave all of that behind. Now I face two months devoid of performing (other than auditions), two months of hard-core studying for February’s gigs. I’m entering a hibernating period at the coldest, darkest time of the year, a fact that has me a bit daunted, I think. But there are new projects in the brainstorming stage, current projects ready for the next phase, and Susanna, who will be a dear companion this winter, so I journey on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
