And just like that..

I’m home.

I got back to NYC on Monday, and after more than five months on the road, it felt great to know that I had only a few days of suitcase living left. B and I moved into a new apartment on Wednesday, moving from a hobbit hole in midtown Manhattan to a 4th-floor walk-up in Brooklyn Heights: lots of light, friendly neighbors, and a neighborhood full of incredible restaurants, bars, conveniences, and shops. The cafe on the ground floor of our building has great coffee and lunch AND a friendly shop cat. Not only that, but the daytime staff saw us moving in (we bought our lunch from them), and when we came back after dark, another waiter, who had not been there during the day, made a point to stop us as we were entering the stairwell and say “hello” and welcome to the building. Maybe he was just courting our business, but I smiled for a good two hours after that.

Thursday was spent giving thanks with the Brooklyn Birds, then home to put together some more furniture. B had rehearsal* on Friday so I spent most of the day unpacking and organizing before meeting him for dinner near Lincoln Center. Walking up from the subway into Verdi Square I immediately smiled: I was back! We had tickets for Tristan & Isolde at the Met, and I loved walking in through the stage door again, being greeted with smiles and hugs from security guards and colleagues. We made our way to our seats, and I was thrilled to learn that we had almost the same seats I had for my first Met Wagner experience. Great seats, but I wish I had found something a little more exciting to wear in the mess of my unpacking. I felt very boring sartorially... Nothing like six-months out of the city to get you of your fashion game! I’ve already warned B that a serious shopping excursion is in my future.

To complete our evening, we headed to the Village to find our destination closed and relocated, only to stumble upon a wonderful substitute. B has become quite a “wine guy,” and we have more than once found ourselves in deep converstaion with waitstaff about wine lists. Last night was no exception, and the waitress and host must have enjoyed themselves, too, because we found an extra glass of wine and a dessert sent to our table with compliments.

I was worried that I would be overwhelmed by returning to the city: the hustle and bustle and the noise and the fact that everything takes more effort here. But one after another, encounters with my fellow New Yorkers have reminded me that I belong here, that this is Home... now more than ever.

* More on this in a future post...

“Obligations”

Often, when on a gig, we as the “stars” of a show are called upon to entertain at various donor events around town: Opera Guild gatherings or Board dinners or the like. I have always enjoyed these evenings, finding them a delightful change of pace from the day-to-day life of rehearsals in jeans and performances in costumes. A nice dress, a nice dinner (usually accompanied by nice wine), and a chance to meet some of the people who make my work on the stage possible.

These evenings are most often gratis on our part, included in our contract and considered part of our job. “Outreach” to the already initiated, I guess you could say. And as such, it can sometimes feel like a duty, like an obligation.

But not tonight, not for me! I had such a wonderful time. Maybe I was just in the mood for a good party (it’s been a rough few weeks in the parts of my life that this blog doesn’t cover, hence the lack of blogging...), but a few hours of good food and great conversations really hit the spot. I sang for my supper, sure, but I even loved that part. I love singing for a small crowd in an intimate space like this; our venue was a gorgeous home in the Phoenix foothills and our “crowd” was about 80 Guild and Board members. I got to sing Quando men vo’ and the Pamina-Papagena duet and Yum-Yum’s beautiful aria... and then I got to end the set with my favorite party piece: Weill’s “The Saga of Jenny.” Now, to be fair, those of you who know me “IRL” will agree that I can be, well, a bit of a flirt, and this song is just one big flirt with the audience! I love to sing it, and it has always been well received.

It felt good to sing some other rep, and was great to listen to my Ko-Ko, the elegant ND, but the highlight of the evening was truly my lovely meal. The food was outstanding: perfectly cooked halibut with a tomato-olive sauve, and scalloped potatoes with white truffle oil and shitake mushrooms. DIVINE. (B was very disappointed that I couldn’t remember the wine we had! It was Chateau Something Chardonnay, 2005 maybe? That’s something, right?) My hosts and table companions were beyond delightful, with tales of first dates and lasting love, being at La Scala the night an unknown named Maria Callas made her debut as Norma, rescuing birds from the mouths of Siberian huskies, and even some good-natured attempts to fool the Englishman at the table with tales of the Jackelope. It was a true pleasure.

We were told that anyone who sings under a Saguaro cactus becomes an instantly adopted Arizonan. I don’t think I’d mind that one bit; maybe I’ll try to find one tomorrow...

Preview

Another little teaser post, I’m afraid, but this one with multimedia! On my first day in Arizona I was interviewed by the company’s PR department for this promotional video, which they had edited and up on their website five days later. It’s a great piece (with fantastic camera work, I think), and I’m relieved to say that I don’t sound like a complete idiot.

Arizona Opera Mikado preview video

I will say that I already disagree with myself, though! I no longer think that Yum-Yum in “conniving” or even that she sets out to “get what she wants.” Nanki-Poo is the one with the plans, mostly, even though it is Yum-Yum who saves his hide at the end of Act I with her silly nonsense-syllable attack on Katisha. She is largely an “in the moment” kind of girl, accepting even the most outrageous or seemingly hubristic moments as natural and understandable. Think of Giselle in Enchanted... (If you haven’t seen it, you must, especially in you live in NYC. It is so charming your head will explode.)

This has been a wonderful rehearsal process, one that has taken me back to my theater roots. We’ve got a full day today, but I will be writing soon about how much fun it has been to “read lines” again and walk around with a script in my hand. Can’t wait to tell you all about it!

"Dumb blonde"

A note for everyone who has told me that Yum-Yum is "really just a dumb blonde:" Let me point out that she is, in fact, "right at the top of the school and has three prizes."

There is a difference between stupid and simple or naive. And besides, it's not nice to laugh at stupid people.

More on this later, as you can imagine...

Singing with a cough

(Here’s another entry written en route to the desert last week. Things have been a bit unsettled around here, so I’ll get to current events in a little bit...)

Another trick I employed during Giovanni tech week (and performances) was my “cough drop trick.” It’s hardly original, I’m sure, but it always seems to catch some folks off guard.

I came up with this trick in 2006 when I was singing Ainadamar performances in NYC. I had the typical winter cold (I used the get them pretty regularly, and they would really stick around. Why I don’t any more is for another post...), and it had started to settled in my chest as a pesky unproductive and uncontrollable cough. I will never forget the moment... We were in the middle of Lorca’s gorgeous “statue aria,” when the stage was quiet and darkly lit, except for a light following Kelly. We “Granada Girls” were all grouped behind Dawn, with me just over her right shoulder. Kelly came up to her, and as she did, we were all brought into the light as they shared a wonderful quiet moment. And then it hit me. My chest started to spasm, and I needed nothing more than to just cough, loud and long. But I absolutely could. not. I held it in, eyes watering and body shaking, for what felt like five minutes but was probably only 45 seconds, until we all broke away and spread to all corners of the stage.

I should say here that this was a production where once we were onstage, we were on until the end; we walked on at the “places” call and walked off after the bows. There were no real “exits,” just small entry points upstage left and right. Our staging for the end of the aria fortunately led me in a big circle around the stage, ending up right by the USR exit! It was still dark on stage, so I slipped out, praying that my mic was off, and I coughed and coughed. The poor stage manager was so confused and concerned, knowing that she wasn’t supposed to see any of us for another 30 minutes! I drank some water, dried my eyes, and surreptitiously slipped back onstage. Only one of my castmates, and no one in the house - not even the front of house stage manager! - had noticed. “Crisis” avoided.

But we had two more performances to get through, and my cough wasn’t going away over night. How could I make sure this didn’t happen again? I might not be so lucky the next time. I had no pockets on my sleeveless costume, so nowhere to stash a cough drop... or was there? Cough drops are sticky, after all. So, before each show, I stuck a cough drop to my skin just under the shoulder strap of my dress. Whenever I wasn’t singing, I would turn upstage and, as gently as possible, pull the cough drop off and, yes, pop it into my mouth. Now, I know, I know... this is kind of gross! And it hurt!! But I never coughed onstage again.

I had to use this trick again during Giovanni, and the stage crew was endlessly amused watching me fussing with my cough drop in the wings just before I’d go on. But I also had an unexpected ally in my Masetto. (No, he did NOT help with the cough drops!) He knew I was struggling during the dress rehearsal, and he had seen me turning upstage more than once to cough and grab a “Ricola moment.” During the trio with Giovanni just before the party scene, our blocking brought us all far stage right. When Giovanni passed me to Masetto, DC whispered in my ear “Go off” and pushed me into the wings! I was a bit confused, but not nearly as much as - you guessed it - the stage manager! I got some water from the table and started to relax, thinking “Thanks, DC; good thinking! Now I’ve got about five minutes to settle myself before we all go back on for the party scene.” Except... I still had to finish the trio! The SM got my attention, and I got to the stage just in time to stomp past Masetto in a huff and take Giovanni’s hand to go to the party. When we all exited (together, as staged) on the other side of the stage, DC and I started laughing while poor Giovanni said, “What happened?! What was that all about?” Quick thinking from a concerned colleague saved me from another on stage coughing fit, and got everyone’s adrenaline pumping a little bit!

I’m sure this won’t be the last time I use this trick. I just hope I never have a cough while I’m in a costume with a high neckline...

Marking

During the Giovanni tech week, I did a lot of marking, relatively speaking. I rarely mark when I’m feeling healthy, preferring to work the role into my voice during rehearsal, playing with the phrasing and colors as I develop the character. I always mark the first time through a new staging, since the important thing at that time is the “chess game” of staging (where I go and when I go there). Many of my colleagues mark on and off throughout the rehearsal process, and some never mark at all. It’s an individual thing, all part of knowing your own process and limits and stamina.

But not all marking is created equally. I remember being visited in opera class in grad school by a singer who was about ten years ahead of us in the business, and I still remember what she said about marking: it’s all about energy. If you are marking to save your voice, as I was during tech week, it is crucial that you don’t mark on your energy level. A severe drop in energy can completely change the way a scene works, both from the perspective of director’s table and from that of your colleagues on stage. Keep your face engaged, stay focused on the text and on telling the story.

The easiest way to do that is simply through the text itself: go for the consonants. It is largely true that most of your singing is done on the vowels. That’s where the sound really moves, where your voice is really engaged, so it stands to reason that this is where you’ll need to take it easy when marking. Consonants, on the other hand, use much less vocal power, even the voiced ones (b,d,g,l,m,n,r,v,z). By focusing your energy in this way, your text will still carry, which means your intentions will be clear to your director and scene partners, and your diction will be easy to follow for your conductor.

I’m on a plane to the desert, where I will greedily soak up the sun and 90 degree weather, healing body and spirit. It’s possible that the shift in weather might hit my system again, but I’ll be ready. There are no high Es (or Ds or even Cs!) in this role, so it shouldn’t be vocally taxing, but just in case, I know how to mark...

Zerlina wrap-up

Singing while sick is never ideal, but sometimes it is inevitable. In this case, it turned out to be an allergy issue, rather than a virus or bacterial infection. I went to see a doctor on the Wednesday of tech week (Friday night opening) and came away with a prescription for antibiotics, just in case, but we both felt that they would be useless. Instead: Sudafed, Mucinex, Tylenol, neti pot... and boxes and boxes of tissures. I spent most of the week in bed, drinking tons of water and trying to eat enough to keep my energy up. B was on a gig about three hours away, so he came down on to see the final dress rehearsal and spend his day off with me. So much fun, hanging out with a miserable sick person on your day off! It was great to have some quiet time together, and of course I valued having his eyes and ears in the audience.

Overall, I was really happy with my Zerlina experience. The allergy/cough didn’t get in the way too much, but the thing that upset me the most was that my middle voice was weakened! During the whole rehearsal period, I’d been so happy with my strong mix-y middle voice (the notes on the staff, especially lower on the staff). But when one has a cough, the vocal cords get slammed together over and over, which causes swelling, which is most noticable in the range of the singing voice that is closest to speech, aka, the middle voice. Damn. I was hoping to be a full-voiced Zerlina, and I was happy with my arias and duets, but in the ensembles I just didn’t feel like I had enough “umph” to cut through. Meh. No great loss, as everyone has said to me “No one ever hears Zerlina at this point anyway.” (pout)But I wanted to be heard always!(/pout)

One thing that I loved about Zerlina was discovering endless ways of interpreting her character. Pure innocent? Opportunistic gold-digger? True? False? Some combination of all of the above? I think I played her differently every night, and I loved it. Now, playing a character differently doesn’t mean that you change your blocking or do other things that might disrupt the flow that your colleagues (onstage and in the pite) have established. It’s all about the language - being comfortable enough with the Italian words to choose different ways to say the line. All that work I did with Susanna's recits last year have paid off!

The easiest scene in which to play with different “line readings” was the scene before “Batti batti.” (Opera 101 Moment: In this scene, Zerlina is trying to make up with Masetto, her fiancee, after she dissed him to spend some quality time with Don Giovanni.) How many different ways can you say “I’m sorry. Yes, I messed up, but I think you might be overreacting?” hehe

All in all, it was a great experience. We felt like we really hit our stride - on closing night! Sometimes, you don’t want a gig to end so soon...

Why I love him

Castmate of B: Does your fiancee have dark hair?
B: Well, she’s kind of got dark blonde, light brown hair... why?
CoB: ‘Cuz I saw a woman who looked like a soprano in the elevator today, wondered if it was her.
B: Yeah... she doesn’t really “look like a soprano...”

Rock on!

Congratulations!!

To my dear friends Nick (fellow blogger and tour buddy) and Jeremy (Wolf Trap friend and whiskey buddy), who officially - and legally! - tied the knot last weekend.

Warm wishes and all my love, friends!

Sick

It’s probably not a coincidence that on the first cloudy day since my arrival here, I should wake up with a cold. Terrible timing, of course, but it feels minor. With plenty of rest and lots of water and good nasal irrigation or two, I should be right as rain (haha) for Friday’s opening. Here’s to hoping...

I wrote the above paragraph this morning, and had all sorts of intentions to write about Zerlina, but I’ve pretty much been napping all day. I have two more hours before I leave for tonight’s first orchestra dress, so I might get some thoughts up, but I will likely be napping and feeding my cold. But stay tuned, as always.

In other news: I applied for my absentee ballot today! If you’re not going to be in your home voting district on November 4th, it’s not too late to get one and get your vote in. Sure, absentee ballots seem to be the red-headed step-children of elections, but this year I just don’t think anyone can afford to let their vote slip by.

More soon...

Tap, tap, tap... Is this thing on?

About a month ago, Sid sent me a link to a post from a “really old-school blogger” in which said blogger perfectly summed up the reasons behind his recent dearth of blogging. It resonated with me so strongly that I vowed to write a “farewell cruel blog!” post that very night and disappear from teh internets...

We can all see how that turned out.

The things that struck me then still resonate, especially this: “...the stories I would share back then seem distinctly more private now. ...I’m just trying to enjoy the moment, I guess.” I think I’ve referred to this idea already, but reading it from another veteran blogger validated my feelings a little. Obviously, I haven’t been recounting the daily events of my life in rehearsals and coachings and performances this summer. But I have recently started to miss the blog.

Or, rather, I’ve started to miss writing. One of the things I have loved about my blog has been discovering my gift for writing. I feel rusty; writing this post has been a challenge! My flow is off...

So maybe this is a test post, not to see if anyone is still reading but to see if I can be like Stella and get my groove back. I have two weeks left with Zerlina, then my first Gilbert & Sullivan experience. I’m living out of suitcase for ten weeks in a row this fall, having my first adventures in extended-stay hotel living rather than host-housing. I’m exploring some new rep. I’m moving to Brooklyn to live with B (and we’re getting married!). There should be plenty to write about, if I can find a balance between living my life and documenting it. I hope so, ‘cuz if not, I’m going to have to start writing a novel, and fiction is really not my genre...

Bullet Points, August 08

Ok, wow. When I said I wasn’t going to be blogging much this summer, I had no idea that I would go weeks without even a peep! I’ve had a couple of blog-related dreams this week, so maybe it’s time to check in. Rather than try to put the past month in any kind of order, it’s time for... you guessed it: bullet points! Maybe I’ll follow up with a Picture Pages post...

* It’s been a summer for blasts from the past. In Cleveland for my Symphony gig, I was reconnected with FD, with whom I first worked three years ago in Atlanta. Also in Cleveland, I recognized one of the flute players from my days at Tanglewood. It’s so cool to work with these top orchestras and discover colleagues who have won those fiercely competitive jobs. Congrats, SSC! Another blast (in more ways than one) has been working with TS here at Wolf Trap. I first met him in Santa Fe in 2006 where he directed my scene on the Apprentice program, my first encounter with Lucia... He’s been our director for Ariadne here, and his creativity and enthusiasm have been contagious. See below for more.

* The next blast from the past came a few weeks ago, in an email entitled “10 years ago.” GH, a fellow student at the University of Georgia, is now the director of a top choir in Texas. He was also one of the first people to encourage me to switch from education to performance, saying “I think you might just have something there.” We will catch each other up on the events of 1998-2008 when I sing with his group in December. How cool is that?

* Ariadne rehearsals are over; we open tomorrow night. You can see a bunch of pictures on Kim’s blog. You will see that my costume for the first act (The Prologue) is, well, a bit on the skimpy side at times. It has been my first experience with semi-nudity onstage, something I knew I’d face sooner or later, so I’ve been really happy to do it here, at a very supportive company with a great professional (read: mature) cast and a director I admire and trust. I was free at any time to draw the line, but this always felt like the “right” thing for the scene/character/world we’d all created onstage. But, in any case, I’m kind of glad my folks aren’t at this one... Wait until I’m naked in Germany and come make a vacation out of it!

* One more plug for TS: it was pretty wonderful to look out at the director’s table during rehearsals and see him smiling and laughing or intently focused on the drama. It felt great to have a director who was excited every day to make some magic! Before we started one of our final days of initial staging, he started rehearsal by saying, "I couldn't sleep last night 'cuz I was so excited to come stage this!" That, my friends, is what you want to meet when you come to work! It’s been a pleasure, TS; can’t wait to do it again.

* The biggest thing I’ve learned during this show, however, is that Zerbinetta is not in my cards. I’ve been trying on and off for an hour to try and sum up why, but I don’t think it’s a bullet point topic. I’ll try to get some thoughts down about our parting soon, but for now, it was a very amicable separation.

Some non-singing bullet points:
* New tunes I’ve been digging this summer: Chromeo, St. Vincent, She & Him (fantastic album), Fleet Foxes, Jason Mraz, Regina Spektor. (Many thanks to Maury for that last one; I, too, was late on the bandwagon...)

* The Olympics are awesome and all-consuming. But this is not news.

* I’m way behind on updating the blogroll, but for now, check out Sestissimo at Trying to Remain Opera-tional. She’s a great writer, and she’s about to travel to South America to sing Musetta in Boheme. Expect some great stories!

More soon. Well, soonish. But not three weeks, I promise!

An experiment in gratitude

Taking a cue from Yankeediva’s plabook, I’m writing an experimental “gratitude” post:

I am grateful for the perks of this job - lovely hotel rooms with BATHTUBS and fancy toiletries and fluffy white robes - that make the bumps in the road - my suitcase not making it to my destination along with me - much easier to handle.

Today was a lovely day, in truth, starting with a music rehearsal with my fellow Ariadne nymphs. What gorgeous music we are participating in here!

(Side note: some of the staging so far includes some time that our characters get to sit and observe the opera-within-the-opera. Sitting there listening to MO sing, even marking, I was a bit blown away by this thing we do. I got an idea of what was behind that look Jason Alexander was giving us when we were singing together! Most humans don’t make these sounds, and when they are made well, as they tend to be here at “the Trap,” it’s kind of awesome.)

Anyway, back to today. Music rehearsal, home to finish packing and have a relaxed lunch with B, and then a fairly uneventful trip on a plane. No bag at my destination? No problem! I had just spent an hour studying Don Giovanni and imagining singing duets with B, it was a sunny but not humid evening, and I was headed to a fancy hotel in a car with tinted windows. Who needs luggage?!

Dinner at the hotel with the most amazing marscapone cheese spread, some studying, some TV, a blissful bath, and a goodnight phone call with B... all still part of the lovely day... but I’m ready for my suitcase now.

What exactly was I grateful for again? Ah, yes, comfy hotel amenities... ‘nighty-night...

**UPDATE** The suitcase arrived safe and sound around 1am. Serious sleeping commenced...

Studying

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

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

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

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

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

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

Energy, given and received

When we got home Sunday night, B asked if there had been any talk of going to Clyde’s with the cast after the post-show reception. I think I passed out from the very idea of exerting any more energy that night... After essentially running the show four times in the span of 30 hours, wearing my 3-inch-heel show shoes all the while, I had nothing left. It was all I could do to hold my glass of wine while I lay on the couch! (Pictures of the gold slinky dress coming soon...)

If I had been scheduled to do another performance of Candide, I would probably have paced myself a bit more, budgeting energy and voice to make it through a run. But with a “one off,” there is no reason, in my mind, to hold anything back. I might as well give it all, since this was my one chance! One night for the audience, one night for me. I gave everything I had, and I loved every minute of it.

I decided Sunday morning that I was going to sing that night for CT the DT, now writing a new blog from her hospital room with her husband’s help. We are not as close as we were when I lived in Seattle, but once upon a time CT said she would travel anywhere to see me perform, and she often did. Sunday night’s Candide was a joyful show, a fun and silly show that ends with one of the most poignant and beautiful songs in the repertoire, “Make our Garden Grow.” I knew she would love it if she were there, that it could be a balm for her body and soul in many ways. And so, just before I walked onstage to sing “Glitter and Be Gay,” I closed my eyes and breathed in and out, sending love and energy and joy and the healing power of music from my little corner of the Filene Center to her corner of the ICU.

At no point in the performance did I feel nervous, not the slightest bit. Her strong will and good heart were nurturing me, and I was blessed. Next time, I hope she is there in body as well as in spirit.

Big weekend

As is often the case with concert performances, all of the elements are coming together at the last minute. With our concert tomorrow night, we will spend this afternoon doing a room run, fitting Mr. Alexander into the minimal staging we’ve worked out (and trying to remember it ourselves! We’ve only had one rehearsal for each act...). This evening we’ll caravan into DC for the Sitzprobe with the National Symphony at the Kennedy Center; I think our rehearsal might be on the stage, which will be all kinds of awesome. Tomorrow morning we’ll do a sound check; since the Filene Center is a large (huge) amphitheater, we’ll all be miked, which takes a little pressure off getting those low- and middle-voice passages out. I’m never worried about my high notes being heard! God bless formants... Then in the afternoon, we’ll have a “dress rehearsal,” which will mostly involved checking entrances and exits and who does what with which chairs. Then... showtime!

Needless to say, I won’t be singing every line at every rehearsal. Having a fresh voice for the show is most important, but there will be a few other times I’ll want to sing out. I’ll probably sing Glitter at both the room run and the Sitz; I’m very confident now that I “have it,” but it won’t hurt my confidence to get two more runs under my belt. The room run will also be my only chance to try my blocking in my (very tight and slinky) dress! Gotta make sure I can roll around on that row of chairs as melodramatically as I’d like...

Getting Glitter up to snuff - or, rather, up to my own very high standard - has been a process. For those of you who don’t know the aria, it is one of the more manic coloratura arias, building in frenzy and ending with a series of sustained high notes, climaxing at an e-flat. Now, I think you know how I feel about high notes that have “e” in the name... They have been my Great White Whale. I still don’t feel great about the e-natural, but I think I have tamed the e-flat! As long as I keep myself completely in the moment, singing and acting, I’m fine, but as soon as I step outside myself and start listening to the note, the tone quality changes. Less vibrant, less supported. Having B’s ears here has really helped, as I trust him to tell me the truth and to help me navigate through any issues. Each time I’ve sung the aria, I have felt more and more confident. I think it’s ready to go!

I was lucky enough to coach this with Erie Mills, who sang the role under Bernstein’s baton many times, and she had lots of helpful and encouraging things to share. The one I will be holding onto most strongly this weekend is this: let the orchestra convey the mania of the piece. They are going to be blasting at full steam, full of energy and excitement. All I have to do is ride the wave. If I can stay relatively calm, Cunegonde’s mania will definitely still come through in the brilliant mix of orchestration and singing. I don’t have to add any real hysteria to the mix!

Wish me luck, and pray that it doesn’t rain tomorrow!!

Chapter Three

I’ve been in Virginia for a week now, after a wonderful ten days with B (trying on a new role: supportive opera girlfriend. I think it might be my favorite role to date!) and a quick trip up to NYC for an audition. Candide rehearsals have started and are going well. I’m getting to work on my other summer assignments - a Blier recital and Ariadne - and starting to format my Zerlina text pages. B gets here this evening, and then the summer will be fully underway. In short, life as normal!

Except... I’m not sure where blogging fits into the picture anymore. I’ve titled this post “Chapter Three” because it feels like the blog is coming into it’s next phase, its third. The first was the beginning, obviously, writing about auditions and small gigs. Fresh-faced and naive and idealistic, I wrote about my life as a singer without really getting into the tough stuff, glossing over growing pains and hurdles on the blog the same way I did in my life. In Chapter Two, after my divorce, I wrote (and lived) with a bit more candor. Auditions and jobs got bigger, and I blogged my journey into the heart of the young new music community. Blogging was as much a part of my life as warming-up, as learning new music. I became “ACB.” (It is funny how widely this nickname has spread; strangers know and address me by it, showing that not all nicknames come from familiarity.)

I’ve heard from young singers that they have appreciated me sharing my journey, even hearing from some that they consider me a mentor. A handful of opera administrators have indicated that they read or have read the blog, and most have been complimentary, saying they’ve enjoyed my insights into “the biz.” I’ve made some really great friends through the blog, and I have given industry outsiders a window into life on and behind the stage. All these are results - side effects, maybe - of keeping a regular public journal, and I am grateful and blessed!

Personally, I think I relied on the blog community over the past couple of years. I wrote regularly not only because I had lots to write about, but because I needed a confidante. I never kept a diary as a kid (or as a teenager); this blog has been the most regular journal I’ve ever had. And even though I didn’t work through personal issues here (you heard only the faintest whisper of my NYC dating dramas, for example), I nevertheless came to rely on having a place to put my thoughts down. I have great friends and family, but I don’t talk to them everyday and see them even less frequently. But I could “talk” to the blogosphere everyday if I wanted to. I think it might even be safe to say that the blog was my primary relationship!

And now, well, I have a boyfriend. (Silly word, boyfriend, when we’re in our 30s, but what can you do...) I talk to him every day about everything. For the past three months, there hasn’t really been anything left for the blog! I had to force myself to sit down and write. I even entertained the thought that the days of The Concert might be over... haven’t I said everything I wanted to say? What else is there to share?

Time will tell. I don’t think I’m ready to throw in the towel, but I think there will be a big change in content, at least in the quantity of it. I’ll probably spare you all the “soup to nuts” entries of role preparation; I think I covered that pretty darn thoroughly with Susanna and Rosina! I’ll continue to talk about rep and technique hurdles and trials of life on the road as they come up. I’ll post fun stories when I can, keeping in mind that my colleagues are also “bigger” these days and have their own rights to privacy. I have no doubt that there could be lots of interesting posts on the challenges and joys of being involved with another singer, but I’m afraid I won’t be “going there.” I’m sure B will pop up in a post from time to time, but how we make it all work, logistically and otherwise, will stay private. Overall, I’m only going to write when I really have something to say.

Thanks for sticking around during this station break. Chapter Three of The Concert will begin shortly...

Off

I’m going offline - or at least “offblog” - while I’m visiting B. When I get back, I’ll probably continue this somewhat scaled-back blogging schedule. I have felt my impetus to blog diminishing over the past few months (maybe you’ve noticed?), and I’m finally embracing it. Putting pressure on myself to write something insightful and special every other day or so was only making me more resistant to sitting down and putting my thoughts and experiences into words. I can be a little stubborn, even when it’s my own self telling me to do things!

For the next few months, you can imagine me playing house in this beautiful Virginia home, channeling my inner floozie for Candide, studying German lieder for the Blier concert, and style-hopping between Strauss and Mozart and Gilbert & Sullivan. I’ll be reading your blogs still, and I’ll pop up here from time to time with updates and stories. Have a wonderful summer!!

Here

As I boarded the train this morning (early this time!), I felt a surge of excitement. My summer has begun! I am in such a different state of mind this May than I was last, and instead of coming to this retreat to heal and recoup, I feel like I am here to start a new chapter.

It is amazing to be back in this beautiful apartment, greeted by a massive thundershower and L&C's smiling faces. I can hear the familiar birds in the woods out back, and I'm already anticipating the assault of the frogs come evening.

But first, unpack. Then Trader Joe's, probably, and then reunions!! And speaking of reunions: I just peeked out the window and spotted my first white-tail deer. So much nicer than the dead mouse I found in my kitchen yesterday... Hooray for a summer in the country!

Pack

That’s pretty much the only thing on my To Do list today. I spent all day yesterday cleaning and organizing, filing that folder of papers that’s been growing in my shelf, getting rid of a few books, and generally getting my ducks in a row. When I go away, I prefer to come home to a clean house, so I always clean a bit before I go. The longer the trip, the more intense the clean, it seems. My space will be dusted and tidied, ready for me to just slip right back in come September. I’ll be taking over the lease on my little hobbit hole, so my weeks between gigs this fall will be filled with painting and finding furniture and nesting (haha) in general.

I have some thoughts brewing about the blog, but I may not get to them until I’m settled in Virginia. I’ve got a car to buy, music to study, walks to take and friends to catch up with, not to mention a ten-day trip to visit B. I feel prepared enough for my upcoming Candide rehearsals that I might even consider part of that trip *gasp* a vacation!! Whoa.