This has been my favorite holiday for a while now. What a great idea: get together with friends and family, have a wonderful feast – to which, ideally, everyone contributes – and take a day to notice how lucky you are. Not mention watching football and having permission to drink wine at noon!
This year, I am thankful for (in no particular order):
My loving and supportive husband
A marriage that is growing in strength and beauty
Good health (and the fact that I’m still the size I was in high school!)
An incredibly anchoring network of friends here in Seattle
My family, who, even though we’re spread across the country, love each other fiercely
My adorable dog!
Mamma Pabor’s Squash Casserole
A home that we own and can fix up (or tear down) at will
The fact that I sing for a livng! And am singing well.
That I am surrounded by beautiful music, and learning of more every day.
My piano students, who keep me excited about learning.
That Christmas is coming!!
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope you, too, will be surrounded with love. And good food!
Thursday, November 25, 2004
Happy Thanksgiving
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
'Tis the season
Audition season, that is. I was in New York City last week for a few auditions, and I’ll head back next week for a few more. Not as many as I would like – only seven in all – but, from what I gather, everyone is getting fewer auditions this year. Several factors at play here, I think. One, the ridiculous number of singers competing for a limited number of jobs. More on that in a minute. Another, smaller opera companies who used to fly to NYC once a year to hear the cream of the crop are now staying at home and auditioning locally. This saves them a lot of money: no trip to NYC and no expensive NYC singers! While that is a gross generalization, the premise seems to be sound. There are plenty of good, even great, singers all over the country now.
Which is why it’s so hard to get an audition! For example, one company I sang for heard about 500 singers this fall. For 23 spots in their training program! That’s a lot of hopefuls – and a lot of disappointed singers. But this company can afford to hear everyone, whereas a smaller company that gets 500 applications for auditions can maybe only hear about 150 singers. Those singers not granted an audition are disappointed in a different way; they didn’t even get a shot to show their stuff.
Here are some other interesting statistics, courtesy of Kim Pensinger Witman, Director of Wolf Trap Opera Company. She kept an extremely informative blog during WTOC’s audition process. Again, more on that in a minute. They heard 345 singers in 12 days in 7 cities (for 8-10 spots in the company). Here is the breakdown by voice category: 20 basses, 60 baritones, 49 tenors, 3 countertenors, 65 mezzo-sopranos, and – get this – 148 sopranos! This year I moved from garden-variety-lyric soprano to the more showy coloratura variety (probably one third of the sopranos are coloraturas), so I was in a smaller subgroup. But still. 148 sopranos!! That’s a lot.
Out of the three auditions I did last week, I have already received rejections from two. Not surprising, given the numbers, but disappointing nonetheless. I know I’m singing well, though (my accompanist told me at one point “You’re going to make a lot of money singing [the Queen of the Night.]), so, hopefully, it’s only a matter of time. And numbers…
Which is why it’s so hard to get an audition! For example, one company I sang for heard about 500 singers this fall. For 23 spots in their training program! That’s a lot of hopefuls – and a lot of disappointed singers. But this company can afford to hear everyone, whereas a smaller company that gets 500 applications for auditions can maybe only hear about 150 singers. Those singers not granted an audition are disappointed in a different way; they didn’t even get a shot to show their stuff.
Here are some other interesting statistics, courtesy of Kim Pensinger Witman, Director of Wolf Trap Opera Company. She kept an extremely informative blog during WTOC’s audition process. Again, more on that in a minute. They heard 345 singers in 12 days in 7 cities (for 8-10 spots in the company). Here is the breakdown by voice category: 20 basses, 60 baritones, 49 tenors, 3 countertenors, 65 mezzo-sopranos, and – get this – 148 sopranos! This year I moved from garden-variety-lyric soprano to the more showy coloratura variety (probably one third of the sopranos are coloraturas), so I was in a smaller subgroup. But still. 148 sopranos!! That’s a lot.
Out of the three auditions I did last week, I have already received rejections from two. Not surprising, given the numbers, but disappointing nonetheless. I know I’m singing well, though (my accompanist told me at one point “You’re going to make a lot of money singing [the Queen of the Night.]), so, hopefully, it’s only a matter of time. And numbers…
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Oops...
My new friend and online-journal-master , just linked to my blog! Guess I need to update… Stay tuned, there has been a lot going on – hence no time to post! I’ll see what I can do in this holiday week between audition trips to New York…
Friday, October 22, 2004
KD
I’ve had a bunch of cool things running through my head to post about in the past few days, but, as is often the case these days, I got too busy doing other “important stuff” and didn’t take the time to sit down and put my thoughts into words. Rather than do another “highlights” type entry about my music, I’m going to tell you about our new dog!
KD came to us from a shelter in Kennewick. (For you readers who are not in Washington, Kennewick is about four hours east of Seattle, over the Cascade Mountains.) I found her picture and description on Petfinder.org, and she seemed to be just what we were looking for – a smallish terrier mix who is good with people and other dogs. (The listing also said she was good with cats, which is NOT true!) So we thought it was worth the trip to Eastern Washington to pick her up and add her to our family.
KD’s original name was “Flossie,” which we both thought was a little silly. So on the way home, we talked through some other possibilities. Since she came from Kennewick, we decided on “Kennewick Dog,” after the famous Kennewick Man, calling her KD for short. Sounds like “Katie,” so our geekiness is only revealed upon further inspection… She likes it, too, we think. A little more mature than Flossie. A little.
She has been such a good dog, feeling right at home with us. She is very territorial, which I always thought meant that a dog protected the home. You know, the “territory.” But, in fact, it means barking at anyone that comes near us while we’re on our walks, as if to say, “Don’t hurt this person! She feeds me and I love her!” We’re working on the barking, although I usually seem to be more bothered by it than the passers-by. She’s really not very threatening…
KD loves her new dog friends – Spackle, Jessie, and Uncle Loper. She’s the smallest of the bunch, but can out run and out play these kids anyday. Loves to be outside, loves to chew on her rawhide sticks (Jessie had to teach her what to do with them at first!), and LOVES to greet her people when they come home, even if they were only gone for ten minutes. She makes us happy every day, and we can’t imagine not having her here.
KD came to us from a shelter in Kennewick. (For you readers who are not in Washington, Kennewick is about four hours east of Seattle, over the Cascade Mountains.) I found her picture and description on Petfinder.org, and she seemed to be just what we were looking for – a smallish terrier mix who is good with people and other dogs. (The listing also said she was good with cats, which is NOT true!) So we thought it was worth the trip to Eastern Washington to pick her up and add her to our family.
KD’s original name was “Flossie,” which we both thought was a little silly. So on the way home, we talked through some other possibilities. Since she came from Kennewick, we decided on “Kennewick Dog,” after the famous Kennewick Man, calling her KD for short. Sounds like “Katie,” so our geekiness is only revealed upon further inspection… She likes it, too, we think. A little more mature than Flossie. A little.
She has been such a good dog, feeling right at home with us. She is very territorial, which I always thought meant that a dog protected the home. You know, the “territory.” But, in fact, it means barking at anyone that comes near us while we’re on our walks, as if to say, “Don’t hurt this person! She feeds me and I love her!” We’re working on the barking, although I usually seem to be more bothered by it than the passers-by. She’s really not very threatening…
KD loves her new dog friends – Spackle, Jessie, and Uncle Loper. She’s the smallest of the bunch, but can out run and out play these kids anyday. Loves to be outside, loves to chew on her rawhide sticks (Jessie had to teach her what to do with them at first!), and LOVES to greet her people when they come home, even if they were only gone for ten minutes. She makes us happy every day, and we can’t imagine not having her here.
Monday, October 04, 2004
A gift
I finished up a nine-show run with the Pacific Northwest Ballet this weekend. What a wonderful experience! I am sorry to see Kent Stowell and Francia Russell leaving the company, as they have fostered a sense of well-being and caring in a business that is often nastier than opera. (I saw this first hand as a child in a couple professional ballet children’s corps; it’s what made me decide not to dance anymore.) Everyone at the ballet – dancers, administrators, crew – was friendly and warm. Businesslike, to be sure, but it was a good place to work.
A couple cases in point: Dancing being such a physical activity (understatement!), they have a resident physical therapist. Well, after a hellish day on Saturday, dealing with horrendous traffic, two performances and a rehearsal for another show in between, my neck and shoulders were a mess of knots by the evening. And even though I was a guest artist, – and NOT a dancer! – Boyd, the PT, worked on my shoulders for about 15 minutes. It’s amazing what a professional can accomplish in 15 minutes… During the massage, I asked him about how he cares for his dancers’ joints, since mine have been acting up a bit lately. After I’d gotten into costume, I went back to ask him about my ankle, which was hurting (prompting the original question). And he fixed it! Felt around for the tiny joint that was out of whack, showed me on my other foot how it was supposed to work, then CRACK! it was better. So cool… What a great perk of working at the Ballet!
Then after my final performance on Sunday, I was met on my way out of the backstage area by one of the technical crew members with whom I had been exchanging pleasantries over the past two weeks. I think his name is Michael. He handed me a small gift bag and said, “Here is a little something to thank you for your singing. I have really enjoyed it, and every night we all stand back here and watch and listen. You are wonderful” Wow! I was so touched. The card inside said that the CD (Ray Charles’ final, the duets CD) was from “Stage Right Tech,” not just from him, and I’m sorry that I didn’t get to thank them all individually. What a great way to end a great run of shows with a great company. I hope the new director will continue to develop the warmth and caring that most certainly contributes to the greatness of the company’s work on stage.
A couple cases in point: Dancing being such a physical activity (understatement!), they have a resident physical therapist. Well, after a hellish day on Saturday, dealing with horrendous traffic, two performances and a rehearsal for another show in between, my neck and shoulders were a mess of knots by the evening. And even though I was a guest artist, – and NOT a dancer! – Boyd, the PT, worked on my shoulders for about 15 minutes. It’s amazing what a professional can accomplish in 15 minutes… During the massage, I asked him about how he cares for his dancers’ joints, since mine have been acting up a bit lately. After I’d gotten into costume, I went back to ask him about my ankle, which was hurting (prompting the original question). And he fixed it! Felt around for the tiny joint that was out of whack, showed me on my other foot how it was supposed to work, then CRACK! it was better. So cool… What a great perk of working at the Ballet!
Then after my final performance on Sunday, I was met on my way out of the backstage area by one of the technical crew members with whom I had been exchanging pleasantries over the past two weeks. I think his name is Michael. He handed me a small gift bag and said, “Here is a little something to thank you for your singing. I have really enjoyed it, and every night we all stand back here and watch and listen. You are wonderful” Wow! I was so touched. The card inside said that the CD (Ray Charles’ final, the duets CD) was from “Stage Right Tech,” not just from him, and I’m sorry that I didn’t get to thank them all individually. What a great way to end a great run of shows with a great company. I hope the new director will continue to develop the warmth and caring that most certainly contributes to the greatness of the company’s work on stage.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Highlights of the past six weeks
Life:
- Got a dog! I finally wheedled Erik down and he let me look for a dog. We wanted something small-ish, smart, good with people and other dogs, and about a year old. And we found her! We’ve named her KD, short for Kennewick Dog (like the famed and much disputed Kennewick Man, but a dog. And not a fossil.), since we got her from a shelter in Kennewick. She is smart as a whip and so loving. I think she’s as happy to have us as we are to have her. I’m sure her antics will make appearances here from time to time…
- Readjusting to life at home after life away was easier this time around. Most things are easier the second time, so that’s part of it. But Erik and I both learned a lot about how to keep connected – to each other and to our lives – while we’re apart. All you military folks should be able to relate; I realized this summer that I was on TDY! But I’m home now, and only have a few weekend or weeklong trips planned this coming season.
Music:
So, that’s what’s what. Let me know if you’re still reading this! Time to practice…
The Entry
As you can see, it’s been six weeks since I posted last. In that time, I spent a last wonderful week at Tanglewood, returned home to a happy husband and a rainy city, jumped with both feet back into life as a freelance singer in Seattle, gotten a dog, and – this is the big one – experienced that moment dreaded by bloggers everywhere: the loss of the perfect blog entry.
My blogging mentor-of-sorts, Chiara, told me that every person who blogs long enough experiences this, that every blog she has read has an entry like the one you are reading now. You can imagine: you spend an hour or so putting your thoughts “on paper” (as it were), taking the time to really get everything right, so your reader will understand exactly how you feel (in this case, my joy at being home and my thoughts an another Tanglewood summer). Then, you click on the “Post” icon and… gone. Blogger has claimed another witty, perfect entry.
I’ve been encouraged now, by people who know these things, to write all my entries in Microsoft Word, then copy and paste them into the Blogger form. I did this all summer when I didn’t have internet at my disposal, and never lost an entry; I should have stuck with what was working.
I don’t really know who is still reading this, but I’m going to try to get back in the habit of posting. Even if the blog stays mostly in the “here’s what’s going on in my music career” vein, I think there will be some interesting things to write about this coming year.
I’ll keep you posted…
My blogging mentor-of-sorts, Chiara, told me that every person who blogs long enough experiences this, that every blog she has read has an entry like the one you are reading now. You can imagine: you spend an hour or so putting your thoughts “on paper” (as it were), taking the time to really get everything right, so your reader will understand exactly how you feel (in this case, my joy at being home and my thoughts an another Tanglewood summer). Then, you click on the “Post” icon and… gone. Blogger has claimed another witty, perfect entry.
I’ve been encouraged now, by people who know these things, to write all my entries in Microsoft Word, then copy and paste them into the Blogger form. I did this all summer when I didn’t have internet at my disposal, and never lost an entry; I should have stuck with what was working.
I don’t really know who is still reading this, but I’m going to try to get back in the habit of posting. Even if the blog stays mostly in the “here’s what’s going on in my music career” vein, I think there will be some interesting things to write about this coming year.
I’ll keep you posted…
Monday, August 16, 2004
Last concert
OK, the summer is coming to a close! I had my final concert last night, and this last week will consist of attending other concerts, singing in a few masterclasses, and getting started on next season's rep. I'm conisdering it a "working vacation," because there will also hopefully be a fair amount of sleeping in and lying out on the beach at the lake. Not to mention a cocktail or two...
Last night was the penultimate concert in the week-long Festival of Contemporary Music, an annual Tanglewood event celebrating concert music written by composers who can actually attend the performances. For example, on the program last night was a piece by a friend of mine who was a composition Fellow last summer. Every year TMC issues a commision to one of the comp Fellows for a piece to be performed the following year. (Since the early days of Tanglewood, "new music" has been important here. Leornard Berstein? Tanglewood Fellow...) My piece last night was an incredible work for soprano and chamber orchestra. The work is very long, about half an hour, with 15 movments, so it was divided among five of us. Lucy Shelton is a faculty member here and one of the best contemporary music sopranos in the world; she sang five of the movements, the rest of us had two or three. I was lucky to be assigned three very hard, very showy movements, so I feel like I really got to shine. Of course, I really like this kind of music, and would have enjoyed singing any of it. In fact, I would love to try and sing the whole piece some day.
The conductor of the piece was Gil Rose, with whom I worked while I was in Boston. He directs the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, and they needed a few extra singers for a contemporary opera they were staging while I was in school. (We actually came to Tanglewood in 2002 and did a performance as part of the Festival, so my first Twd performance was in a professional capacity.) It was good to work with him again, since I know I have improved as a musician since we worked together last. We've had dinner a couple of times this week, and he has really exciting seasons coming up wth his organizations (he also leads Opera Boston). I hope to get another chance to work with him soon.
He had a friend with his this weekend, a New York based composer named Lisa Something (starts with a B...). She talked with me last night about a piece she wrote this year for soprano and orchestra that is having its premiere at Carnegie Hall this fall. While that performance already has its ensemble lined up, she would like to look at the piece and think about performing it again in the future. That's two pieces in the past ten days that have come my way after new music concerts. Maybe there's something to that...
Last night was the penultimate concert in the week-long Festival of Contemporary Music, an annual Tanglewood event celebrating concert music written by composers who can actually attend the performances. For example, on the program last night was a piece by a friend of mine who was a composition Fellow last summer. Every year TMC issues a commision to one of the comp Fellows for a piece to be performed the following year. (Since the early days of Tanglewood, "new music" has been important here. Leornard Berstein? Tanglewood Fellow...) My piece last night was an incredible work for soprano and chamber orchestra. The work is very long, about half an hour, with 15 movments, so it was divided among five of us. Lucy Shelton is a faculty member here and one of the best contemporary music sopranos in the world; she sang five of the movements, the rest of us had two or three. I was lucky to be assigned three very hard, very showy movements, so I feel like I really got to shine. Of course, I really like this kind of music, and would have enjoyed singing any of it. In fact, I would love to try and sing the whole piece some day.
The conductor of the piece was Gil Rose, with whom I worked while I was in Boston. He directs the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, and they needed a few extra singers for a contemporary opera they were staging while I was in school. (We actually came to Tanglewood in 2002 and did a performance as part of the Festival, so my first Twd performance was in a professional capacity.) It was good to work with him again, since I know I have improved as a musician since we worked together last. We've had dinner a couple of times this week, and he has really exciting seasons coming up wth his organizations (he also leads Opera Boston). I hope to get another chance to work with him soon.
He had a friend with his this weekend, a New York based composer named Lisa Something (starts with a B...). She talked with me last night about a piece she wrote this year for soprano and orchestra that is having its premiere at Carnegie Hall this fall. While that performance already has its ensemble lined up, she would like to look at the piece and think about performing it again in the future. That's two pieces in the past ten days that have come my way after new music concerts. Maybe there's something to that...
Monday, August 09, 2004
New Gigs
Since I've been here this summer, I've lined up four gigs for the coming year. Well, two are potential gigs and one is for 2006, but still! The work is coming. The first is a New Year's Eve concert on Fox Island, near Tacoma. It will be an opera gala, with three other singers and a pianist (my friend and colleague, Lisa Bergman). Erik and I wil spend the night there, viewing the Seattle fireworks from the south instead of the north on the Taylors lawn. While a NYE gig is always wonderful, I'll be sad to miss kissing all my friends as the new year rolls in.
The gig for 2006 is a fundraiser for the Ladies Musical Club. One of the ladies is organizing a performance of a chamber opera (smaller orchestra, minimal staging) based on the lives and work of the Bronte sisters. I think I will be singing Anne, the less well-known of the three. This has potential to be a really fun project.
The first potential gig is in Seattle, with the Northwest Puppet Center. Every year they perform an opera, using live singers and instrumentalsists. This year, it's an adaptation of Mozart's The Magic Flute! I would absolutely LOVE to be involved with this. It would be a great venue to try out the Queen of the Night's arias, and I know the whole thing would be a blast. I'm submiting a demo cd this week, so we'll see what comes of it.
The other gig just came my way today. This morning (I'm writing this on Sunday) I performed a piece written by one of the composition Fellows here at Tanglewood. It was a fun piece, with lots of shrieking, laughing on pitch, and talking in rhythm. Basically, your typical "new music!" After the performance, the man who conducted us, another Fellow named Alan Pierson, asked me if I would be interested in performing with his new music ensemble in April. They have a piece for soprano and orchestra programed, but the women originally scheduled to perform has had to back out. He's not sure if the director has found a replacement, but if not, he would like me to consider it. The composer of the piece, Augusta Reed Thomas, was also at this morning's concert, and she agreed that it would be a good match for me. Of course, I'm interested! Alan's group, Alarm Will Sound, really seems to have their stuff together, performing and recording quite a bit and getting really good press. And I would enjoy a chance to work with him again; he's a very sensitive and direct conductor.
So, the calander is filling up! All I need are the contracts...
The gig for 2006 is a fundraiser for the Ladies Musical Club. One of the ladies is organizing a performance of a chamber opera (smaller orchestra, minimal staging) based on the lives and work of the Bronte sisters. I think I will be singing Anne, the less well-known of the three. This has potential to be a really fun project.
The first potential gig is in Seattle, with the Northwest Puppet Center. Every year they perform an opera, using live singers and instrumentalsists. This year, it's an adaptation of Mozart's The Magic Flute! I would absolutely LOVE to be involved with this. It would be a great venue to try out the Queen of the Night's arias, and I know the whole thing would be a blast. I'm submiting a demo cd this week, so we'll see what comes of it.
The other gig just came my way today. This morning (I'm writing this on Sunday) I performed a piece written by one of the composition Fellows here at Tanglewood. It was a fun piece, with lots of shrieking, laughing on pitch, and talking in rhythm. Basically, your typical "new music!" After the performance, the man who conducted us, another Fellow named Alan Pierson, asked me if I would be interested in performing with his new music ensemble in April. They have a piece for soprano and orchestra programed, but the women originally scheduled to perform has had to back out. He's not sure if the director has found a replacement, but if not, he would like me to consider it. The composer of the piece, Augusta Reed Thomas, was also at this morning's concert, and she agreed that it would be a good match for me. Of course, I'm interested! Alan's group, Alarm Will Sound, really seems to have their stuff together, performing and recording quite a bit and getting really good press. And I would enjoy a chance to work with him again; he's a very sensitive and direct conductor.
So, the calander is filling up! All I need are the contracts...
Friday, August 06, 2004
Costume / Jewelry
Whenever a show gets to tech week, I start leaving my engagement ring at home. I've known too many stories of people losing diamond rings to take a chance with mine. I keep my wedding band on, though, only taking it off when I'm in full costume. Every day, I put the ring in the little "personal effects" basket at my dressing station, along with my earrings and other miscellany. Then, at the end of the rehearsal, I gather it all up again.
Well, for some reason I changed my routine during Saturday's matinee. I knew I would be in a hurry to get out of there, so I started cleaning things up during one of my longer off-stage periods. Needless to say, when I finished the show and came back to change, I had forgotten all this (change in routine is BAD!), and panicked when I couldn't find my ring. I, wrongly, assumed that the costume assistant had dropped it when she cleaned out my effects basket (which, granted, she shouldn't have done until I had gotten all my things out of it, but, still, it wasn't her fault), and so she and several other people tore the place apart while I got out of my costume and tearfully went to find Erik. It wasn't until after the reception, and many tears, that I could calm my mind enough to mentally retrace my steps. I realized that it had been in my wallet the whole time.
I have never felt such a mix of relief, joy, and embarrassment! I felt so awful to assuming the costumer had lost it; actually, I felt like a Diva. Not a good kind, either. (Yes, Virginia, there are good divas. More on that later.) I instantly started planning my apology!
I would have a chance to see them again the next day, when I was invited back to come "make an offer" for my costume. Remember, this is a several thousand dollar dress, not to mention the ostrich feather cape. But I was encouraged by the staff to "just stop by and let them know you're interested in having it." Ok, right.
Erik and I headed out Sunday morning to find a box of nice chocolates for my peace offering, then worked our way to the theatre past Sunday Tanglewood traffic. We found the costumers who had done all the searching, and they were only glad that I found the ring. I didn't feel that they were upset with me, so I must not have thrown too big a Diva fit.
Then on to the costume shop. Where I was presented with an incredible gift. They gave me my costume "for a song," shall we say. I was amazed. The gift of this production, this experience, was already so much more that I expected. And now I have an unbelievable momento, a physical reminder of all that I have learned here. It is a dress for a diva, for an opera singer, for me.
Well, for some reason I changed my routine during Saturday's matinee. I knew I would be in a hurry to get out of there, so I started cleaning things up during one of my longer off-stage periods. Needless to say, when I finished the show and came back to change, I had forgotten all this (change in routine is BAD!), and panicked when I couldn't find my ring. I, wrongly, assumed that the costume assistant had dropped it when she cleaned out my effects basket (which, granted, she shouldn't have done until I had gotten all my things out of it, but, still, it wasn't her fault), and so she and several other people tore the place apart while I got out of my costume and tearfully went to find Erik. It wasn't until after the reception, and many tears, that I could calm my mind enough to mentally retrace my steps. I realized that it had been in my wallet the whole time.
I have never felt such a mix of relief, joy, and embarrassment! I felt so awful to assuming the costumer had lost it; actually, I felt like a Diva. Not a good kind, either. (Yes, Virginia, there are good divas. More on that later.) I instantly started planning my apology!
I would have a chance to see them again the next day, when I was invited back to come "make an offer" for my costume. Remember, this is a several thousand dollar dress, not to mention the ostrich feather cape. But I was encouraged by the staff to "just stop by and let them know you're interested in having it." Ok, right.
Erik and I headed out Sunday morning to find a box of nice chocolates for my peace offering, then worked our way to the theatre past Sunday Tanglewood traffic. We found the costumers who had done all the searching, and they were only glad that I found the ring. I didn't feel that they were upset with me, so I must not have thrown too big a Diva fit.
Then on to the costume shop. Where I was presented with an incredible gift. They gave me my costume "for a song," shall we say. I was amazed. The gift of this production, this experience, was already so much more that I expected. And now I have an unbelievable momento, a physical reminder of all that I have learned here. It is a dress for a diva, for an opera singer, for me.
Five Days
Saturday: Brunch at a classic diner with the Taylors, Birds, and Erik. Blueberry pancakes for me, "plain pancake" for Sylvia. Headed off to the theatre while everyone else relaxed or played with their uncle. Mark and Elizabeth shared one ticket to the opera, Mark taking the first Act while Elizabeth and Sylvia wandered through the Tanglewood grounds. (At the first intermission, Elizabeth brought Sylvia backstage to see Aunt Bou in all her finery! There's a great picture in the album that shows her uncertainty! Who is this white woman?) After the show, dinner at my favorite Chinese restaurant, the traditional ice cream after a performance, and the end of a long day.
Sunday: The Taylors had other friends in town, so they did their thing while we walked through downtown Pittsfield looking at the sheep. (Pictures in the Misc. Album.) I had a coaching in the afternoon (Erik was able to attend, to see what goes on behind the scenes.), and then, to be honest, I can not remember what we did Sunday evening.
Monday: A hike up Monument "Mountain" with the Taylors, and a tasty lunch at the top. Then they got to go swimming while I went to a practice room. No rest for the weary! I attended my Russian diction class, then joined back up with my gang for dinner and an evening of Texas Hold'em! Really, it was so nice to get to do this kind of "real life" stuff here; reminded me that my life is more than rehearsals and performances.
Tuesday: Erik's last full day. I had a rehearsal in the morning; he got to sleep in. We spent a lazy afternoon "at home," something we love doing at our real home but have been sorely missing this summer. I had a vocal recital in the evening (all the vocal fellows sang, one folk song - arranged by a classical composer - each), then we had a lovely dinner with my sponsors, Pearl and Alvin Schottenfeld. Finally, a concert under the stars! It did sprinkle on us a bit, but we cuddled a blanket. The bottle of wine was well on it's way to being vinegar, so that was a bust, but the music was wonderful. The canons in the 1812 Overture were certainly loud and exciting, and the fireworks were fantastic. (Erik says they were as good as the one's on Lake Union; I say they were better.) Not to be out done, Mother Nature joined in with some incredible lightning. It was quite a site, to see flashes of color and white sharing the sky.
Wednesday: An official Tanglewood Day Off. (There are two all summer.) Erik's flight was at 5, so we packed up, cleaned up, and headed out around 2. And that's the end of my "real life at Tanglewood" week! Only two more weeks until it's "real life all the time." Until the next big thing...
Sunday: The Taylors had other friends in town, so they did their thing while we walked through downtown Pittsfield looking at the sheep. (Pictures in the Misc. Album.) I had a coaching in the afternoon (Erik was able to attend, to see what goes on behind the scenes.), and then, to be honest, I can not remember what we did Sunday evening.
Monday: A hike up Monument "Mountain" with the Taylors, and a tasty lunch at the top. Then they got to go swimming while I went to a practice room. No rest for the weary! I attended my Russian diction class, then joined back up with my gang for dinner and an evening of Texas Hold'em! Really, it was so nice to get to do this kind of "real life" stuff here; reminded me that my life is more than rehearsals and performances.
Tuesday: Erik's last full day. I had a rehearsal in the morning; he got to sleep in. We spent a lazy afternoon "at home," something we love doing at our real home but have been sorely missing this summer. I had a vocal recital in the evening (all the vocal fellows sang, one folk song - arranged by a classical composer - each), then we had a lovely dinner with my sponsors, Pearl and Alvin Schottenfeld. Finally, a concert under the stars! It did sprinkle on us a bit, but we cuddled a blanket. The bottle of wine was well on it's way to being vinegar, so that was a bust, but the music was wonderful. The canons in the 1812 Overture were certainly loud and exciting, and the fireworks were fantastic. (Erik says they were as good as the one's on Lake Union; I say they were better.) Not to be out done, Mother Nature joined in with some incredible lightning. It was quite a site, to see flashes of color and white sharing the sky.
Wednesday: An official Tanglewood Day Off. (There are two all summer.) Erik's flight was at 5, so we packed up, cleaned up, and headed out around 2. And that's the end of my "real life at Tanglewood" week! Only two more weeks until it's "real life all the time." Until the next big thing...
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
New Plan
Back at the internet cafe, since Erik will be taking his phone home with him today. My plan is still to do most of my writing at home, then come here to post and send email. My plan for tonight is to catch you all up on the weekend's activities, then come here for coffee tomorrow and post. This afternoon I have to put Erik on a plane...
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Reviews
More reviews are starting to trickle in, with the general consensus being that people loved the musical elements and performances, but weren't sure about the production. The NYTimes writer seemed to like the whole package, though, as you can read here. It is a general review of the entire weekend at Tanglewood - Seiji Ozawa's Gala Sunday night, the opera, and the two BSO concerts - but there is also another beautiful picture. When the summer is over, I will most certainly be rewriting my bio to include some of these quotes!
I will be bringing home a recording of the opera, and will send copies to anyone who would like one. But if you can't wait until then, New York's WQXR will be broadcasting the recording this Saturday at 1pm EST. They have a live stream from their website, so those of you with modern machines should be able to listen with no problem.
This evening I'm singing on a vocal recital for Tanglewood on Parade; all the singers are scheduled to sing one song each, folk songs of the US and Great Britain. It will a great concert to have a recording of, since all my fellow Fellows will be represented. A good momento, not to mention a resource for neat folk song arrangements! Erik will be in attendance, and afterwards we are having dinner with my sponsors, Pearl and Alvin Schottenfeld. If the weather holds, Erik and I will then head back to the Tanglewood grounds for the 8:30 BSO/TMC joint concert, which ends with the 1812 Overture and fireworks. One of my favorite things about Tanglewood (and I am not alone in this) is sitting on a blanket with a bottle (or two!) of wine, under the stars, listening to one of the best orchestras in the world. I want Erik to have that experience, too, but Mother Nature my have a concert of her own to give tonight. I'll let you know...
I will be bringing home a recording of the opera, and will send copies to anyone who would like one. But if you can't wait until then, New York's WQXR will be broadcasting the recording this Saturday at 1pm EST. They have a live stream from their website, so those of you with modern machines should be able to listen with no problem.
This evening I'm singing on a vocal recital for Tanglewood on Parade; all the singers are scheduled to sing one song each, folk songs of the US and Great Britain. It will a great concert to have a recording of, since all my fellow Fellows will be represented. A good momento, not to mention a resource for neat folk song arrangements! Erik will be in attendance, and afterwards we are having dinner with my sponsors, Pearl and Alvin Schottenfeld. If the weather holds, Erik and I will then head back to the Tanglewood grounds for the 8:30 BSO/TMC joint concert, which ends with the 1812 Overture and fireworks. One of my favorite things about Tanglewood (and I am not alone in this) is sitting on a blanket with a bottle (or two!) of wine, under the stars, listening to one of the best orchestras in the world. I want Erik to have that experience, too, but Mother Nature my have a concert of her own to give tonight. I'll let you know...
Sunday, August 01, 2004
What a dream was here
Thanks to Erik's arrival on Friday (yea!!!), I have a new internet setup. Unfortunately, it involves going to the cafe up the street and paying $2 to use their wireless, but it's better than nothing. For some reason, the IR port on my phone has stopped working, so I can't use it as a modem. Regardless, the lack of internet was only one factor in my week of no posting - I had an opera to perform!
Thursday was opening night, and I feel like I achieved everything I was hoping for in terms of putting the music first. I felt totally connected to Stefan, the conductor, the whole night, enjoying the partnership of conductor and singer. I don't know why, but in my mind I think I had always viewed the conductor - and reliance on the conductor - as a crutch. You only looked at him if you got lost! But that's not it at all. It is one of those contradictions: the more you are with him, the more free you can be. If he sees that you want to take time or move forward (for expressive purposes, hopefully, not because you can't count), he can make the orchestra respond. If he doesn't get those signals from you, you will be fighting against a speeding train! Not an environment conducive to artistic expression. When I talked with Stefan about this realization after the show, he was amazed that I was only just figuring it out. But, hey, life is one long learning process, right?
In addition to that small epiphany, the rest of the night went fabulously. The audience loved it, and the first review is quite good. (Warning: there are lots of pop-ups at the Berkshire Eagle site.) The paper edition has a photo of me and Charley Temkey, although he's wearing the donkey head, so you can't recognize him. Come to think of it, you probably can't recognize me either. Ooh, I found the photo at another review site. The review is pretty amateur, but you can see my costume! I have a ton of photos to post in my abum; I'll get to that soon. After the opera, we all celebrated with drinks and a 2am showing of Waiting for Guffman! I figured, if Erik was going to be up all night on a red-eye flight from Seattle, I would stay up late in solidarity. Which bring me to...
Erik's arrival! I picked him up Friday morning in Albany, and it has been so good to have him here. We had most of Friday to ourselves, then we spent the evening with Calin and Ian (who came in for the opera and some visits with friends) while waiting for the New York Birds to arrive. They were on their first road trip in their "new" Mercedes, and I think it turned into a bit of a National Lampoon's Road Trip. A three hour drive took nine hours, complete with weekend rush hour traffic, rain, stops for dinner and potty training, and strange behavior by the old car. They pulled in around midnight, at which time Sylvia anounced that she didnt' want to go to sleep! There were three kitties to play with! But, of course, she did, and so did we.
I have two more days worth of adventure to tell about, but I am sleepy. The main idea for now is that the opera went very well, everyone arrived safe and sound and is having a great time, and I am overall a very happy woman. Wish you could be here, too.
Thursday was opening night, and I feel like I achieved everything I was hoping for in terms of putting the music first. I felt totally connected to Stefan, the conductor, the whole night, enjoying the partnership of conductor and singer. I don't know why, but in my mind I think I had always viewed the conductor - and reliance on the conductor - as a crutch. You only looked at him if you got lost! But that's not it at all. It is one of those contradictions: the more you are with him, the more free you can be. If he sees that you want to take time or move forward (for expressive purposes, hopefully, not because you can't count), he can make the orchestra respond. If he doesn't get those signals from you, you will be fighting against a speeding train! Not an environment conducive to artistic expression. When I talked with Stefan about this realization after the show, he was amazed that I was only just figuring it out. But, hey, life is one long learning process, right?
In addition to that small epiphany, the rest of the night went fabulously. The audience loved it, and the first review is quite good. (Warning: there are lots of pop-ups at the Berkshire Eagle site.) The paper edition has a photo of me and Charley Temkey, although he's wearing the donkey head, so you can't recognize him. Come to think of it, you probably can't recognize me either. Ooh, I found the photo at another review site. The review is pretty amateur, but you can see my costume! I have a ton of photos to post in my abum; I'll get to that soon. After the opera, we all celebrated with drinks and a 2am showing of Waiting for Guffman! I figured, if Erik was going to be up all night on a red-eye flight from Seattle, I would stay up late in solidarity. Which bring me to...
Erik's arrival! I picked him up Friday morning in Albany, and it has been so good to have him here. We had most of Friday to ourselves, then we spent the evening with Calin and Ian (who came in for the opera and some visits with friends) while waiting for the New York Birds to arrive. They were on their first road trip in their "new" Mercedes, and I think it turned into a bit of a National Lampoon's Road Trip. A three hour drive took nine hours, complete with weekend rush hour traffic, rain, stops for dinner and potty training, and strange behavior by the old car. They pulled in around midnight, at which time Sylvia anounced that she didnt' want to go to sleep! There were three kitties to play with! But, of course, she did, and so did we.
I have two more days worth of adventure to tell about, but I am sleepy. The main idea for now is that the opera went very well, everyone arrived safe and sound and is having a great time, and I am overall a very happy woman. Wish you could be here, too.
Friday, July 30, 2004
A singer who dances
In last year's opera, you may recall, I was dancing more than singing. This year, too, while my singing part is substanial, I am dancing quite a bit. The concept behind my costume (and together with Oberon) was Fred & Ginger. When they learned that Jose (Oberon) and I could both dance, they blocked a lot of beautiful ballroom style dancing. I'm having a ball (ha ha), but my coach said something to me yesterday that has stuck in my mind.
"I want you to be a singer who dances, not a dancer who sings."
She has known me for three years now, and she can tell when I go on autopilot with my singing. As this is essentially my first full opera role, I am having trouble concentrating on the singing part. The acting and dancing (the roles in which I have spent most of my stage time) seem to occupy more of my attention on stage, and, to her eyes, it shows. So my new focus for the week is how to let the music - the heart of opera - tell the story. To trust the composer, trust the orchestra, trust my voice alone to move the audience. I have enough training in acting and dance that I will never leave those skills offstage, but singing needs to be first.
I was drawn to opera precisely because it is a synthesis of all the arts - dance, music, drama, visual art, poetry. But I am not an actor, poet, or dancer. I am an opera singer.
"I want you to be a singer who dances, not a dancer who sings."
She has known me for three years now, and she can tell when I go on autopilot with my singing. As this is essentially my first full opera role, I am having trouble concentrating on the singing part. The acting and dancing (the roles in which I have spent most of my stage time) seem to occupy more of my attention on stage, and, to her eyes, it shows. So my new focus for the week is how to let the music - the heart of opera - tell the story. To trust the composer, trust the orchestra, trust my voice alone to move the audience. I have enough training in acting and dance that I will never leave those skills offstage, but singing needs to be first.
I was drawn to opera precisely because it is a synthesis of all the arts - dance, music, drama, visual art, poetry. But I am not an actor, poet, or dancer. I am an opera singer.
Food
Going back to cooking for one has been a strange adjustment. Especially since I'm not really cooking, just microwaving. I looked at my purchases on the conveyor belt at the grocery store yesterday, and realized that I was buying food like someone who doesn't know how to cook: frozen dinners and breakfast things (organic and vegetarian, but frozen nonetheless), snack bars, dried fruits, salad makings, boxes of rice and beans or couscous. It looked like the shopping of someone who wants to be healthy but doesn't have the time/inclination/talent to cook her own food!
I've always entertained myself in line at the store with speculations about people's lives based on their purchases. I see lots of young women buying food such as I have been for the past few weeks. I imagine them to have good jobs, live alone or with a friend, and spend their weekends at the clubs or on group dates kayaking at the arboretum. I often want to introduce myself to the people I see buying fresh fish and vegetables, good wines and cheeses, and a decadent torte from the bakery; they are obviously about to throw a great party, and could I come?
Then there are the bachelors. Erik gave the best example of this category from his recent shopping excursion: Three men in line (one of whom was my temporary bachelor), each with a six pack of beer and some form of prepared dinner, i.e., frozen pizza or hot foods from the deli counter. There were no repeats; each man had his own choice of beer and dinner - but that was all they were buying. No vegetables, either, I might point out! But, honestly, how much fun is it to cook up a bunch of asparagus or broccoli and then eat it alone in front of the tv? Yeah, not very. Food is social, both the eating and preparing of it, and as much as I have enjoyed living away from the dorm, I look forward to sharing food with my friends and family again.
I've always entertained myself in line at the store with speculations about people's lives based on their purchases. I see lots of young women buying food such as I have been for the past few weeks. I imagine them to have good jobs, live alone or with a friend, and spend their weekends at the clubs or on group dates kayaking at the arboretum. I often want to introduce myself to the people I see buying fresh fish and vegetables, good wines and cheeses, and a decadent torte from the bakery; they are obviously about to throw a great party, and could I come?
Then there are the bachelors. Erik gave the best example of this category from his recent shopping excursion: Three men in line (one of whom was my temporary bachelor), each with a six pack of beer and some form of prepared dinner, i.e., frozen pizza or hot foods from the deli counter. There were no repeats; each man had his own choice of beer and dinner - but that was all they were buying. No vegetables, either, I might point out! But, honestly, how much fun is it to cook up a bunch of asparagus or broccoli and then eat it alone in front of the tv? Yeah, not very. Food is social, both the eating and preparing of it, and as much as I have enjoyed living away from the dorm, I look forward to sharing food with my friends and family again.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
no internet
So I'm at an internet cafe in Pittsfield, trying desparately to restablish connection with the internet! What a mess... My phone stopped working as my modem, so I can't connect at home any more. Then I decided to come here and pay for internet access. (Turns out, if you have your own set up, it's only a $2 connection fee; if you use their computers, it's $2 for 20 minutes. Grrrr....) I have two entries that I've written in the past few days, and all I want to do is upload them. But, alas, I skipped over the page where I was supposed to enter the encryption password - and I can NOT find it again. I can't even find the page that allows me to change networks. So I'm paying out the nose to use their computer, and I am beyond frustrated.
And tired. Today will be the sixth day in a row of 6 or more hours of rehearsal, and I'm about at the end of my rope. The opera is great, but I don't know where I'm going to find the energy for this afternoon's dress rehearsal. I also don't know why we call it a rehearsal - we will have a full house. Tickets were cheaper for this performance, since it is officially a rehearsal, but with 700 people in the house, it will hardly feel like it. Maybe that's where I'll get the energy, from the audience. Wish me luck.
I have tomorrow morning off, so I'll be back here again, giving my device another try at connecting to the network. I don't have any singing to do tomorrow, thank god, just a Russian diction masterclass in the afternoon. So I will sleep in, eat a good breakfast, and try to have a restful day. I miss all of you so much. Spending a day with you would most certainly get me back on track.
And tired. Today will be the sixth day in a row of 6 or more hours of rehearsal, and I'm about at the end of my rope. The opera is great, but I don't know where I'm going to find the energy for this afternoon's dress rehearsal. I also don't know why we call it a rehearsal - we will have a full house. Tickets were cheaper for this performance, since it is officially a rehearsal, but with 700 people in the house, it will hardly feel like it. Maybe that's where I'll get the energy, from the audience. Wish me luck.
I have tomorrow morning off, so I'll be back here again, giving my device another try at connecting to the network. I don't have any singing to do tomorrow, thank god, just a Russian diction masterclass in the afternoon. So I will sleep in, eat a good breakfast, and try to have a restful day. I miss all of you so much. Spending a day with you would most certainly get me back on track.
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Sitzprobe
The opera is staged! From this point out, we're in tech week, which in opera also includes adding the element of the orchestra. So today we have what is called a Sitzprobe, a fancy German word for sitting down and singing through the opera with the orchestra. We will be in chairs on the stage, so we can hear what the orchestra will sound like from that perspective, but we won't be doing any blocking or dancing. (Hmm, have I mentioned the dancing that I'm doing this year? I'll get to that...)
All in all, the opera is in wonderful shape. A few things to get ironed out still (like the pie fight!), but on the whole it is a beautiful show. Mark and Elizabeth decided this week that they will be able to come up that weekend, so I'm off this morning to get one more ticket. Only one, since they will have Sylvia, but I think they're going to take turns - one sits inside for one act, the other hangs out on the grounds with Sylvia, then they switch at intermission. The Taylors and Erik will, of course, be here, too; he'll stay through Wednesday of the next week. That means he'll get to sit in on a rehearsal of my end of the summer projects (one coached by Dawn) and see a concert that will involve all the Vocal Fellows (folk songs of Great Britain and the US). We might even have some time to go swimming or take a bike ride through this beautiful country. Regardless, I'll be glad to have him - and everybody else! - here. This "9-5 plus overtime" lifestyle is hard without my support staff, especially my Vice President. That's a hard job to telecommute; face time is essential...
All in all, the opera is in wonderful shape. A few things to get ironed out still (like the pie fight!), but on the whole it is a beautiful show. Mark and Elizabeth decided this week that they will be able to come up that weekend, so I'm off this morning to get one more ticket. Only one, since they will have Sylvia, but I think they're going to take turns - one sits inside for one act, the other hangs out on the grounds with Sylvia, then they switch at intermission. The Taylors and Erik will, of course, be here, too; he'll stay through Wednesday of the next week. That means he'll get to sit in on a rehearsal of my end of the summer projects (one coached by Dawn) and see a concert that will involve all the Vocal Fellows (folk songs of Great Britain and the US). We might even have some time to go swimming or take a bike ride through this beautiful country. Regardless, I'll be glad to have him - and everybody else! - here. This "9-5 plus overtime" lifestyle is hard without my support staff, especially my Vice President. That's a hard job to telecommute; face time is essential...
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Bryn Terfel
Last Tuesday, Welsh baritone Bryn Terfel gave a recital in Ozawa Hall with Malcolm Martineau on piano. Bryn (yes, we're on first name basis) is a big star, so the house was sold out. Seats had been set up on the stage, in a half circle behind the piano. (Fellows are usually seated in empty seats for concerts here; the house managers planned ahead, though, since they knew there would be no empty seats.) At first I was disappointed; who wants to sit behind a superstar while they sing? Well, it was a lesson in great performing. Bryn and Malcom were aware of the audience being all around them, and reacted accordingly. At several points, Bryn turned his back to the front of the house, placed his hand on the semi-closed lid of the piano, and sang right to us. It was almost like an old fashioned "salon" style performance. Intimate, personal, inspiring.
Another advantage of being so close to him, even though we were behind (it was actually more like a 3/4 view), was that we could really see how he sings. How he uses his breath, his body, his face, to communicate the texts and music. We heard every word of his almost entirely English-language program. Phylis, our voice teacher here, would have been proud!
Then last night he gave the opposite of an intimate voice and piano recital - a performance of excerpts from Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürmberg with the BSO at the Shed for an audience of 20,000 people. But, through the magic of being a Tanglewood Fellow, I found myself on the second row. This time I was able to fully appreciate the enormity of his voice, as well as study the way he handled the concert. How was it the same in his eyes? How was it different? I was equally moved by both his performances, with the same question coming to mind both nights - Do I have what I takes to do that?
Another advantage of being so close to him, even though we were behind (it was actually more like a 3/4 view), was that we could really see how he sings. How he uses his breath, his body, his face, to communicate the texts and music. We heard every word of his almost entirely English-language program. Phylis, our voice teacher here, would have been proud!
Then last night he gave the opposite of an intimate voice and piano recital - a performance of excerpts from Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürmberg with the BSO at the Shed for an audience of 20,000 people. But, through the magic of being a Tanglewood Fellow, I found myself on the second row. This time I was able to fully appreciate the enormity of his voice, as well as study the way he handled the concert. How was it the same in his eyes? How was it different? I was equally moved by both his performances, with the same question coming to mind both nights - Do I have what I takes to do that?
Tanglewood Moments
Tanglewood is the kind of place where ghosts appear. Where the past, present and future of classical music exist simultaneously. We are performing our opera in the same theater that held the US premiere of Britten's Peter Grimes, argued by some to be his greatest work. Leonard Berstein wrote Candide in the little red house just off the road from the main grounds. The number of world class artists who have spent time on these hills, many as Fellow like myself, is humbling.
And many of them come back, often and unexpectedly. Yesterday we had the annual Sponsor's Luncheon, where each Fellow is introduced to his Sponsor. (Each Fellowship is funded by a $250K endowment, the interest of which covers the $15K annual fee.) Afterwards, I was standing with a small group of singers; several of us had (at the urging of the caterers!) taken the potted begonias that were the centerpiece at our table. We noticed a decidedly Sponsor-looking couple walking by, also with begonias in their hands, and started a conversation about the flowers. The gentleman then said, "Are you all in 'the Dream?'" We said that we were, and made casual introductions of our roles. We had been chatting about the production when, all of a sudden, the faces of two of the guys went from polite interest to complete awe. They had read this man's name tag, and he was Benjamin Luxon, one of the greatest lyric baritones of the past 40 years. Being a singer who rarely listens to classical music, I didn't recognize his name, but I knew from Alex and Stefan's reaction that he was opera royalty! He and his wife were so gracious, inviting us to come spend our "free time" at their home nearby.
They also attended the afternoon rehearsal of the opera. Before leaving, Mr. Luxon pulled me aside and gave me a few tips. (Afterall, while he didn't premiere a roll in this opera, he did work with many original cast memebers and Britten himself. I figure his advice is worth taking to heart!) When he urged me to take more time with the musical "sighs" at the end of my scene in Act II, I told him I was afraid of being gauche. "Oh, be gauche! Be gauche, be gauche," he said. So I have permission! We'll see how far I can take it next time before my coaches reign me in.
And many of them come back, often and unexpectedly. Yesterday we had the annual Sponsor's Luncheon, where each Fellow is introduced to his Sponsor. (Each Fellowship is funded by a $250K endowment, the interest of which covers the $15K annual fee.) Afterwards, I was standing with a small group of singers; several of us had (at the urging of the caterers!) taken the potted begonias that were the centerpiece at our table. We noticed a decidedly Sponsor-looking couple walking by, also with begonias in their hands, and started a conversation about the flowers. The gentleman then said, "Are you all in 'the Dream?'" We said that we were, and made casual introductions of our roles. We had been chatting about the production when, all of a sudden, the faces of two of the guys went from polite interest to complete awe. They had read this man's name tag, and he was Benjamin Luxon, one of the greatest lyric baritones of the past 40 years. Being a singer who rarely listens to classical music, I didn't recognize his name, but I knew from Alex and Stefan's reaction that he was opera royalty! He and his wife were so gracious, inviting us to come spend our "free time" at their home nearby.
They also attended the afternoon rehearsal of the opera. Before leaving, Mr. Luxon pulled me aside and gave me a few tips. (Afterall, while he didn't premiere a roll in this opera, he did work with many original cast memebers and Britten himself. I figure his advice is worth taking to heart!) When he urged me to take more time with the musical "sighs" at the end of my scene in Act II, I told him I was afraid of being gauche. "Oh, be gauche! Be gauche, be gauche," he said. So I have permission! We'll see how far I can take it next time before my coaches reign me in.
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