Yesterday's Lesson

Yesterday I had a long talk with my teacher about some things (luckily, he usually lets me give him an update and do some brainstorming as an add-on, without cutting into our hour singing time).

I mentioned my frustration about feeling that no one takes me seriously, and that this has dampened my ardor for trying to find places to sing (where I don't have to pay anything, and there will be a real audience - AKA I can invite my friends and acquaintances, and get to show off- not a nursing home, even though I believe singing in a nursing home is a worthy endeavor).

I asked again about our joint concert and he basically went "meh", which was not about my singing, it was more about his own feelings about singing right how. He is my age, and has sung almost every tenor and most baritone roles in the standard rep, in recent years with a pay-to-sing outfit run by a friend of his, who always needs men, so my teacher has never had to pay anything. (I suppose what he "pays" is jumping in to sing comprimario roles now and then when someone is needed.) He seems to have backed off this relationship lately, maybe because the outfit now has enough men willing to pay? I don't know. My teacher still can sing anything, just about, because he's a superb technician (and a superb teacher, unlike the conductor of Carmelites who seemed to be unable to convey to me what it was he wanted).

So I've put Amneris/Radames on the shelf for now. Not a bad idea. I worked it to death, and doing that improved my extreme upper register.

I also was honest with my teacher about my hurt that when he puts on a group concert he has never used me, but in fact on one occasion when his regular mezzo was not available used someone whose singing was (IMHO and also in his) not as good as mine.

He said well, that she was someone he had known for years and he had heard her perform under pressure. He reminded me that he had only actually heard me "perform" twice. So now it's back to these same issues that keep surfacing over and over. I can't get anywhere because I have no past. Or the past I have is so ancient and laughable, and the people who knew me then are gone, as at that time I was one of the youngest singers.

I don't want to start the new year feeling disheartened. I know I am singing better and better and my teacher agrees. Those exercises on "VVVVV" that are meant to liberate my "flute register" have been lightening my voice and making it easier to sing high notes with a variety of dynamics, however, as my teacher pointed out, they have not increased my range. I can now sing a tiny "VVVV" on a B natural off the cuff but nothing higher (Eboli at 61 perhaps?) but I still can't phonate on anything above a C and probably will never be able to. But I don't have a peer group. Which is why I have kept relying on that bass, who despite having a glorious instrument and a lot of stage presence, definitely has vocal "issues". He's about the only person I know who came out of nowhere in midlife like I did and is jonesing to sing opera.

Well, I just have to pick myself up and go on. I refuse to let all that talent go to waste or be buried forever in a choir. I need something else.

My choir director recently played in a small chamber music venue, something new that was opened up by an old fashioned stringed instrument maker. I wouldn't be able to sing opera there, but maybe the violinist from the church (he's retired from the NYCO and has happily accompanied me in several of the services)would do something with me. Maybe an all Bach program? I will try to find out what's involved in performing there. I doubt I would have to pay to use the space as I'm sure my choir director wouldn't have done that.

So do I want to make a New Year's resolution? What? To take myself seriously? How do I do that?

How Do I Make Myself Believe I Matter?

I'm taking a break from work now preferatory to trudging out in the snow to get groceries (I ordered some online but if I can't see what I'm buying it's often not the thing I really wanted) and feel a need to write.

I'm not sure about what, only that I feel I'm being pulled in two directions at once, in more than one sense.

Self Assessment

I know that I keep singing better and better, and despite my advancing age, keep getting stronger and stronger. With a few months of work for example, I probably could sing most of Amneris in public (giving a pass on the Triumphal Scene with the treacherous C flats).

I now have a respectable pianissimo high G and G sharp, and even an A on good days.

The new exercises my teacher has given me to learn to sing "on the edges of my chords" (AKA with that "heady" sound that so many sopranos and even mezzos come by naturally) have changed my sound dramatically (no pun intended - if anything I sound more "lyric").

On the other hand, the more I scour the backgrounds of people I meet, whether at group aria coachings, or whatever, the smaller and more comtemptibly irrelevant I seem. The other Mother Jeanne from the Carmelites production has her own web site, and quite a nice list of credentials including opera and symphony choruses in top venues and a few mid-sized roles with places that turned me down (one of them was where I sang "Acerba Volutta" and the auditor yelled "Brava" but never offered me anything).

So what do I have? A handful of roles that I don't sing any more at venues that I now know are a joke, that I sang over 30 years ago, some solos at churches that don't pay people, a few concerts in hospitals and nursing homes, and my big expletive deleted deal production of Samson et Dalila that I organized myself.

Self-Definition

Why can't I just be happy to be a nice (unBaptised) churchlady who sings? I remind myself of a character in a Margaret Yorke mystery that I read: an "old maid" who had retired from a management job to a small English village and sang contralto in a Bach choir (a lot of Yorke's novels use choirs as a setting) but did not take communion because she couldn't bring herself to believe in a lot of the church doctrines. Other than my lack of a birth religion, I fit right in there with the music-loving amateur choir singers with good intonation and good taste. Or I could if I squashed the diva in me who is always screaming. Be one of the best of the bunch. Not on a par with paid soloists of course (although I sound as good as many of them) but good enough to sing a church solo in a limited range (and with the breath control to sing anything Bach wrote without taking a breath in a wimpy place!)

As my partner said "I have a lot". I have a livelihood that doesn't require my going anywhere, a dream apartment that I pay very little for, and someone to love who loves me.

But I won't give up. There's a part of me that only comes alive when I sing Verdi and verismo or Carmen or Dalila, or, sigh, Mother Marie.

If I were, even, 40 !!!! I might matter to someone but at 60??? I don't even think I matter that much to my teacher. Even though he continues to compliment me on my overall progress (and nitpick at the things that are still not right) he has sort of let the idea of our concert drop. Maybe at the nursing home, he said. He and some other people do a free concert once a year in a big venue and when I asked about it (the mezzo who sang last time did not sound as good as I do and he even begrudgingly admitted it) he never offered me anything.

And I just have run out of energy. I don't mean I've run out of energy to sing, or even to keep practicing, but I've run out of energy to treat myself as if I matter.

O Holy Night

I'm here finishing up supper preferatory to doing some singing and thought I'd take a break and post something, to shake off a funk I've gotten into.

I still have not recovered from my bad experience with the opera. Not that I believe I'm as unmusical as that conductor obviously thought I was, but because it has made me afraid to venture forth.

And just as I write that, thinking of the womb, aka my avocational choir, and whether or not to venture forth from it, I have to mention that the womb is heating up and getting quite crowded and competitive.

There's now a conservatory-trained coloratura soprano there, who is less than half my age. She is now the acknowledged "star" of the choir. When I started singing there, there was another operatically-trained mezzo struggling in the soprano section along with me (we had the highest voices in the choir, solely because of training, not natural tessitura). She and I had a strained relationship to put it mildly but I respected her, most particularly her seniority (in length of time with the choir, not age). And I would have said we were peers. Different voice types (hers got lighter on top, mine got louder) but more or less the same struggles with the various choir soprano parts. In any event, now she has moved on to another musical career entirely.

This young woman is quite nice, although a bit cocky, but then why not? She is feeling her oats. She likes singing in this choir but is out there fishing for paying gigs and has been somewhat successful. And of course as she is a real soprano she's got the Bs and even the Cs that I of course don't have. And no matter how good a second soprano I am, a second soprano is, well, second.

But back to "O Holy Night".

When I was a teenager I had what was my only paying choir gig. My local Unitarian church paid people in the neighborhood to sing in the choir basically if we could carry a tune and were willing to show up for rehearsals. They had paid soloists as well, but couldn't apparently find enough congregants to fill up the choir otherwise. At that time I was at the tail end of childhood Julie Andrews vocal glory because I was a heavy smoker, but I could still pack a punch on a high G, so of course I was in the soprano section.

Well, on Christmas Eve the soprano soloist got to sing O Holy Night, complete with the interpolated B Flat. I was so green with envy. But at least she was older. I could be her when I grew up, so I thought. (Ten years,and some 7500 packs of cigarettes later I was told I was a mezzo.)

When I was "discovered" at my own Unitarian church in 2004, that Christmas I sang Wagner's Angel song (chosen for me by the choir director) for the first time. The resident coloratura sang "O Holy Night". I didn't feel any competition, really. I was one of two soloists out of the entire church, on Christmas Eve which was a pretty high profile occasion.

The following year I sang "O Holy Night" on Christmas Eve, in a version given to me by the choir director where the high note was a G. The Mentor Who Will Not Be Discussed coached me to sing it. It went quite well, despite my leg being in a cast and my needing to be carried up the church steps.

One of my many sources of anger at that church's minister involved her total lack of acknowledgment of me as a musician. At one point at a party she referred to the resident coloratura as the "O Holy Night Lady". When I mentioned (in a later conversation) that I was hurt that she hadn't remembered that I was also an "O Holy Night Lady" because I had sung the song the second year she blew me off saying "well, I guess I didn't remember because it wasn't important to me.....I guess that's not how I see you" If the first diss put my nose out of joint, the second put me in a homicidal rage.

You don't say things like that to a diva.

Fast forward to the Lutheran church. The first year I was there I asked the choir director if I could sing "O Holy Night" on Christmas Eve and he said he really didn't like solos on Christmas Eve because he wanted room for several choir anthems. So I sang Wagner's Angel the Sunday before.

But he has had solos on Christmas Eve, just not any of mine. Miss Coloratura Kid said she and the choir director had "discussed" her singing "O Holy Night" tomorrow night but that he said no. But that he had almost said yes. Maybe. Who knows.

I could have been rehearsing my pitiful mezzo version of the song during my recent practice sessions but I just haven't felt like. Maybe I should leave that one to the real sopranos.

I spoke to the choir director about singing "Schlafe mein Liebster" from the Bach Christmas Oratorio some time during Epiphany. It's slow enough to sing during communion (the choir sings the offeratory and the preludes and postludes are instrumental only) and that time of year we can still sing Christmas music. It's a bit low for me (the perennial problem with this rep - the alto things are too low and the soprano things are either to high or in any event written for lighter voices).

And now that Coloratura Kid is there I just wouldn't feel comfortable singing any of the soprano material, even things I sing well (like the arias from the Messiah).

What I noticed also is now that she is there I would be embarrassed to try to put on a concert again there, like the Samson et Dalila. I don't know why. I guess because she's a real singer, a conservatory graduate who is auditioning in real venues for paying work, and who has friends who sing. She would think something like that was silly.

Well, I have spent enough time here, now. I am going to polish every note, every run, every word of "Schlafe". If I don't get to sing that during Epiphany at least I will have learned it and can look for another solo aria. If nothing else there's always "Et Exsultavit" for a 9:00 anthem.

Be Who You Are, Love What You Have, Do What You Can

That is a quote, I believe, from the great Unitarian minister Forrest Church.

Yesterday my partner was talking to me and she said "You have so much". Some of this was in connection with her sadness over age and infirmity, which I, despite having, at 60 totally aged out of the serious "emerging pro" track, no matter how well I keep singing, still haven't experienced yet. At least not the "infirmity" part, beyond not being able to easily walk up and down stairs, or being able to walk at all in high heels.

I have a choir that I love, friends there that I respect who respect me, friendly neighbors (not to mention a rent controlled apartment in a prime location in Manhattan), work that I can do at home, and good health.

So why do I keep grieving over what I don't have?

Yesterday I posted a status update on Facebook where I asked "Is letting go the same thing as giving up?"

After my bad experience with the opera production, I began asking myself, should I give up the idea of singing opera forever? An odd question, because the things that are so strenuous about opera (mostly the murderous range and stamina level required)were not relevant in that situation.

Why can't I just be happy singing church solos? There's a lot of great music out there - Bach, Mozart, Rossini and more - none of it requiring me to sing above a G sharp, or even an E or an F most of the time.

And if I can't sightread (I have a sightreading book at home but have never been able to muster up any interest in it - I'd rather learn a new aria) I do a pretty good job of faking it.

What's interesting, is that, apparently unlike many people, I do my best if I am not surrounded by people who do everything better. That just intimidates me. For example, one of the unpleasant things that happened in this opera situation involved an ensemble section, which I had worked on at home with the recording, and thought I knew, but suddenly was unable to sing surrounded by other singers who appeared to have more confidence and knowing that this conductor had his ear pealed for me to make a mistake. Yet the very next week when I went back to choir, I was able, in an almost identical situation, to hold my own on the second soprano part, which I had never sung before other than with the recording, because I knew I was the one people would be leaning on.

So what is it that I want that I don't have? I know I will never have a "career" and interestingly, I don't much care if I get paid for singing or not. I do still have an overpowering yearning to sing certain roles but, well, I can do that. I sang Dalila, didn't I? It would have cost me less to produce Carmen in a church than I spent on tickets to this opera production that I will never get or sell even if I got them.

I guess what I want is respect. Surrounded by conservatory graduates, YAPPers, and "emerging pros" (never mind the real pros) I feel that I am nothing. It's funny. I feel that not only do I not have a future, but I also don't have a past. Until I started frequenting the Forum, I never realized that the places I sang in the 1970s were laughingly referred to as "the opera underground" and thought of as some kind of a joke. So an experience that used to make me proud (that I had sung this or that role) now has been reduced to an embarrassment.

I just am feeling very small right now, like I want to curl up in a corner.

Slowly Crawling Out

It's done. I resigned, and got a personally insulting email in response, but no arm twisting to come back (was I really that bad?)

I feel like I've really taken a beating and my confidence has been badly shattered.

There have always been areas in which I've had very little confidence: singing above a high A natural, singing softly above an E natural, worrying that I don't have the stamina I need, my lack of musical training.

But this conductor seemed to think I lacked musicality, and in a way that I could not perceive. I mean if I sing an ugly high note, usually I know, yes, that is what I have done. But what was wrong here? If I tried to sing legato he implied that I was schmaltzy and if I tried to sing without being schmaltzy he implied that I was mechanistic. And the worst part is that I didn't hear whatever it was I was doing that he didn't like.

The Mentor Who Shall Not Be Discussed used to tell me I had no sense of rhythm. He said I knew how to count, but that that was not the same thing. So is there some inner flow that I am lacking? If that were the case wouldn't I hear it? I've heard tapes of myself singing and all that I've noticed is that my lower register sounded "talky" rather than "singy" and that (this is mostly fixed) my voice had a big weak spot right above middle C. My high notes actually never sounded that bad on tapes, just loud, but not ugly-loud.

I just haven't had the heart for singing today but I made myself practice anyhow!! I worked on the second soprano part for something were singing Christmas Eve. It's mostly just middle register but there's a gratuitous throwaway high A in the middle (it only occurs once - the second time that melody recurs the second sopranos are an octave below). After working on the new exercises I was actually able to do this. (It remains to be seen if I can do it sitting during choir practice but who knows? Or the choir director may ask the seconds not to sing it.)

Then I took out Wagner's Angel, the only art song I've ever sung (I just don't like art songs unless they're sacred songs for church. Am I missing something?), because it has plenty of legato. I was not all that thrilled with how it sounded. I'm not sure what the problem is. I vocalized up to a High C and sang the ascending phrase from Aida (I now just consider that a mandatory exercise whether I work on the rest of the piece or not) which went like a house afire. And my pianissimo G on "nieder" sounded great. But I got tired and my throat kept getting tight, which I don't remember happening before. I've sung this song almost every Christmas in church one time or another (won't this year - have missed the boat) and always got through it fine although sometimes that G was full voice. Well, I'll take it to my lesson on Thursday. I am not in the mood for any music that's not seasonal right now.

It's funny. My mother was an atheistic Jewish Marxist but she loved Christmas, which she claimed was pagan. I have happy childhood memories of caroling, Advent calendars from the Met, and our beautiful ceiling high live tree.

I just want to wallow in Christmas now. My partner and I have been being nicer to each other, probably because now we're all we've got. She has no friends who spend the holidays here (they all have grandchildren elsewhere, or country homes) and no family, and my mother is dead. I will sing Christmas Eve and then sleep over. We have been looking for a restaurant where we can have Christmas dinner but haven't found one. Everything seems to be closed. Well, then, as I laughingly said, we can be Jewish and eat ethnic and then come back to her place and watch the marathon of Poirot.

Saturday I am going to buy her a little tree.

A New Name, A New Day

First, the new name.

I had a very hard lesson this past week, which is maybe I'm not an "emerging pro".

Maybe I'm just a middle-aged woman (come on - you're 60, that's pushing it!) with a rather wild, undisciplined, large operatic voice, a truckload of diva personality, a minimum of musical training (I learn almost everything by ear but I do it so perfectly no one can tell), a sexy figure and a great hair dye job.

If anyone has been reading regularly, they will notice that I deleted the recent posts about Dialogues of the Carmelites. That is because I am planning to drop out. I booked an extra session today with the therapist I've been seeing for years, mostly to talk about problems with my partner's physical and mental health issues and how to deal with them and still have a life, to figure out the best way to do this.

Why am I doing this? It seems, according to this director, I can do nothing right, but I haven't a clue what he wants. I came there prepared. I knew my small role perfectly, I speak flawless French, and I sound quite lovely in the little solo secion (most of the bits of recitative are in my register break, which makes it hard to sound "lovely" in them, but I didn't think they were meant to be).

There is one other woman that this conductor has been bullying but at least she has a large role, so to her it's probably worth it.

There are two women singing the larger role that I had originally auditioned for, they are less than half my age, and one of them showed up at the first two rehearsals not even knowing how to speak the words to her part in time to the music.

Well, she's 25! Hardly the age of wisdom. When I was that age I hadn't even started studying singing seriously. It was the year I stopped drinking. And hardly the right age for the character she was playing. I can understand a director not wanting to cast me in a role like Erika in Vanessa (the first role I ever auditioned for for this conductor), but if this conductor thinks I'm too old for Erika, why would he want to cast a 25 year old as Mother Marie?

In any event, I am just no longer used to this kind of abuse. I might put up with it if the stakes were higher (if I were getting paid, or singing a large role that I was dying to sing) but for two pages of solo singing and a few lines of recit? No. This is not how I want to spend the first Christmas after my mother died.

I suppose part of me feels like a failure. This was my first venture in 30 years outside of being an (unpaid) choir soloist and singing in operatic concerts either that I produce myself or that someone else produces, in nursing homes or churches.

If this is what I can expect if I get a role I audition for, I don't think I want to go to any more auditions. This is a huge thing to say. It's a huge admission of defeat. Or maybe it's just that I have different values. Over the past several decades I have spent most of my time when I was not at work earning a living either in 12 Step programs or in churches (even though I have no birth religion, I consider myself a spiritual person) where regardless of what else is going on, it is woven into the organization's mission that people treat each other with respect and that there is no bullying or abuse.

For people who have read me at "the other place" I took quite a bit of abuse over the years from The Mentor Who Shall Not Be Discussed but I brought some of that on myself by falling in love with him and at least he did most of his bullying in his studio behind a closed door. And at least the whole thing started because he heard me singing from a hymnal in the back of a church and chose me as a protegee. I never foisted myself on him.

This doesn't mean I will never sing opera again. I am singing better and better thanks to those new exercises my teacher gave me and I have every intention of getting back to Amneris in preparation for the concert he wants to sing with me next year.

And I will still go to the meetups and aria classes where I can sing the music I love with a piano.

As for my new title? A few years ago I saw a play called I Am My Own Wife about a transgender man living in Nazi Germany.

So I can be "My Own Diva". One of my dreams has been to produce my own one woman show, a little chat interspersed with arias. Maybe that will find a market.

Off to Rehearsal

I'm off to my first Carmelites rehearsal. I now have Mother Jeanne totally memorized including the tough spot at the end where I sing (totally atonally) alone with Sister Constance. We will see if I can hold my own tonight. As I've said, I am not a natural harmonizer although once I get a part in my head I can hang onto it.

I also am going to seriously learn Mother Marie. She has to sing four high B flats but they're sort of "throwaway" notes in recitative, not big powerful notes that you have to hang onto like the ones in Aida.

I have been listening to her part of the recording and working on the French. As I'm primarily an "ear learner", if I keep listening to the recording I will know the part. Luckily French is an easy language for me because I grew up hearing my mother speak it.

I have to admit, unfortunately, that I'm not quite ambitious enough to get to rehearsal early to listen to the rehearsal of some of the Mother Marie scenes that I'm not in. I have decided to stop by my mother's apartment instead. But there's time. My goal is to know the part by the time we go on break on December 17. It shouldn't be hard because once I'm secure with Mother Jeanne I won't have to sing through it during my practice times at home - which I have to admit have not been as numerous or as extensive as I would like, as a result of all the copyediting (what pays the rent) that has come pouring in - and can work on Mother Marie instead.

More later....

The Payoff

Well, at last night's choir rehearsal I sang about 10 pianissimo high Gs in a way I never had before! In fact the choir director liked it so much he asked if I could please sing that anthem on December 5. I was flattered, but I told him I had to honor my commitment to my partner (and myself) that when I was rehearsing Carmelites I was going to take a break from choir if for no other reason than I owed it to her to spend Saturday evening and Sunday morning with her, as I would be really tired on Friday night, which is when I usually stay over.

Although I still don't think it's sunk in with her that no, I'm not cancelling this commitment. I will find plenty of time to do the work (copyediting work for pay)that has been pouring in as well as getting enough rest! And because the rehearsals are in Brooklyn, if I have to I can stop by my mother's apartment. Although I think I have done the right thing in letting an "apartment dismantling" company handle most of it.

Today I sang through the treacherous ascending phrase in Aida and it really went well! I didn't start too far back in the scene because there wasn't time. I must get a handle on those last two pages of Carmelites!! They're the hardest. The final section is me alone with Sister Constance and it's completely atonal (this for a gal who's never studied music theory and basically has always just winged it).

It's interesting. I was realizing that I have become totally inured to all the guillotine sound effects (which used to freak me out). So I see how people can become inured to the sights and sounds of certain kinds of violence and they might lose the potential to shock. I hope that never happens to me.

An Interesting Lesson - Something New

Yesterday I did some totally new things at my lesson, which was very interesting. I'm not sure why my teacher suddenly came up with some new exercises - whether it was because of my ongoing problems with my extreme upper register and finding a "light" position, or whether it's because he's been experimenting on his own going back to singing tenor.

Anyhow, he had me singing descending scales on a "v" sound with no vowel. My mouth is closed, so once I get up to an E (top space of staff) it gets hard. In the studio I was able to do it securely up to an A flat (the highest note I've ever really been able to sing pianissimo)but I got up to an A natural finally. Then he had me open up and sing "vaw" on the note that I had just phonated a "v" on. And surprise! The note had a lot of topspin and felt lighter and freer.

So he told me I should do this at home instead of some of my regular exercises singing descending scales on blu blu blu.

I sang among the best High Bs and even a few Cs that I have ever sung and then I did a bang-up job with the Amneris/Radames duet.

So I hope it sticks.

Even though my singing has kept improving over the past 6 years that I've been studying I still don't have a handle on the extreme high notes (for me anything above an A).

Tonight is my last choir rehearsal until Christmas Eve, because I'm taking a break to rehearse Carmelites. My partner is doing everything she can to discourage me, telling me if I fall or have some kind of accident I won't be able to work (or take care of her) but I am not budging. She also (to a friend) said my whole involvement with singing was a "fantasy". The friend, to her credit said "well, it's a nice fantasy".

The memorization is actually coming along, now that I'm drilling it (I guess I can't learn things by osmosis any more, certainly not anything later than Verdi).

Tonight the choir is singing a piece where both soprano parts have to sing a sustained pianissimo high G. I actually won't be singing the piece in the service but I'm going to challenge myself re: doing it tonight.

Back "Into" Singing

I think I am finally "into" singing again. I still don't have a lot of time. Even though I've made a decision to turn the task of dismantling my mother's apartment over to professionals (which means that when their fee plus the rent and utility payments on the apartment are deducted from the gross sales it will zero out)I still seem to be busy busy busy.

I think I finally do have enough work to keep me busy for 30 hours a week, I just need to be left alone to do it! So as singing breaks no longer naturally occur (breaks like running out of work until the following morning or the following Monday, or, in the old days, coming home from the office) I need to take at least one a day on days when I'm not rehearsing or having a lesson.

My small role in Carmelites is coming along. I can't believe how hard it is to memorize two bits of extended recitative and a choral section that mostly repeats itself over and over, on the other hand it is totally unfamiliar (unlike, for example, excerpts from Carmen, which I've had in my ear for over 40 years!)

My solo yesterday went well. One of the other singers there, who hadn't heard me for close to a year, told me I was sounding good. I said I had been working hard and she said she could tell. I just wish I were 20 years younger (I'd kill to be 40 again, never mind 28) so that I could do something with all this.

Saturday I gently broke it to my partner that I would be in an intensive rehearsal period and she wasn't thrilled but didn't do something ugly like refuse to have Thanksgiving with me, which she might have. It's sort of like here's where I came in 35 years ago - arguing with her about making time to sing.

What I haven't had time for is work on my big pieces, like the Amneris/Radames duet. That went very well at my last lesson, but I see I have a lesson tomorrow and I haven't touched it. Well, maybe that's for the best. I made a note in my 2011 calendar that in February, after Carmelites is over and after my mother's apartment is empty and "broom clean" (we promised the landlord to be out by January 31) that I need to start planning the concert with my teacher, the Carmen with this guy, and the Amneris/Aida duet, which I am planning to sing in one of my evening classes.

Coming Back to Life

I haven't written anything for a while because my mother died on October 10, and I have been both grieving and busy.

I also have suddenly gotten in a lot of freelance editing, which is what I do to pay the bills. (In fact I have had to turn down work that people wanted back in 5 days.)

We have a good lawyer who will be co-executor of the estate with me, so I will have less to do. I will get less money, but I will waste less time. There isn't a lot, but there will be something I can add to my nest egg, plus a little for my personal savings account, in case I can't manage to work full time for a while, whatever the reason.

I want to say here that my mother died without pain or fear. I spent her last 12 hours with her, holding her hand. Despite her having been an atheist her whole life, she smiled as she was leaving us, and inasmuch as it was possible, she had a "good death", meaning she died at home, pain-free, with no medical interventions to prolong things pointlessly. She died in her enormous living room in the Brooklyn Heights apartment where I grew up, facing the trees.

I haven't felt much like singing. Not because I'm too sad, but because I'm too busy. My mother never really cared about my singing. She loved classical music, but mostly as a spectator or listener. Her thing was language and literature. I want to read, I want to write, and I want to work (with the written word, which is what I do, for an hourly rate scarcely more than that of a cleaning lady).

I haven't done any blogging either here or at the other place because my priorities are work first, then sing, then if there's no paying work on my plate, I can write. (This is a stolen bit of writing, because I have been working all day since 10 am with a small break for lunch.)

Yesterday I went back to choir practice. I am, I suppose, the de facto alto section leader on a Bach cantata. It is going well. I am in a quandary about where to put myself, section-wise, since as a mezzo I'm neither one thing nor t'other. Luckily, we sing a lot of pieces with two soprano parts, so I can sing second soprano. My problem isn't the tessitura (I'm solid up to an A) so much as having to keep the volume down, which fosters tension and undoes all the good work I do with my teacher and in my own practice.

Next month I start rehearsals for Carmelites. It's a very intensive rehearsal period, ironically, right near my mother's apartment, which I will probably be clearing out for the next several months. I have a very small part and it will be memorized by November 29!! And I have a choir solo on the 14th, a nice version of "The Lord is My Shepherd" by Dvorak. And when I can squeeze in a period of vocalizing I continue to use the dreaded ascending phrase from the Amneris/Radames duet as an exercise.

Now back to work!

Above is a photo of me and my mother, taken several years ago at Fiorello's, a place where we spent many Thanksgivings and Mothers Days.

Time Out for My Mother

My mother really is dying. They have set up a hospice in her apartment. I know this is mostly a blog about singing, but I just wanted to check in.

I know I have said many hateful things about her, and she was a very difficult person (not just with me but other people too) but she was always a lovely mommy to me when I was little, always comforting me when I had a nightmare, arranging birthday parties, understanding my grief when our dog died.

So I want to be sweet to her for the remainder of her life, however long it is - two weeks, two months, I don't know.

Unfortunately I can't be physically there for her all the time because my freelance editing business has just taken off and I desperately need money. Not just in the short term, but I need to earn a decent amount (which means satisfying clients) over the next several years so that I can collect a decent amount of social security.

I haven't really felt like singing at all. But I know I must do just the basic minimum, which means singing exercises at least up to a B flat (I can't lose that hard won territory) and being sure I am spot on with the alto part for the Bach cantata if I see myself as a de facto section leader. What's interesting, is that all the crying I've done (which I think has been spiritually cleansing) has done a lot more harm to my lower register than anything else (similarly to how a cold functions - I'm blessed that I get one about every three years if that). But this alto part is not low (which is why I'm singing it!) it's mostly middle voice (and the soprano part sits around high F and G!!)

I also haven't felt much like eating. Maybe I'll lose a pound or two, who knows. I do make sure I have something with protein three times a day. In between I have my beloved flavored coffee or juice. I just don't have the stomach for anything like an apple or a salad.

So I may not be writing much here. I just didn't want my last post here to be something cynical about my mother. I feel blessed to have time to make peace.

Today's Concert

I am really too tired to write much (more on that later) but I wanted to just say that this afternoon's concert in the nursing home went well enough. My bass colleague had a bad cold that affected his hearing, so at some point in the middle of the duet from La Gioconda we were not in the same measure. Probably no one noticed it and the pianist did a good job of covering it up.

I had a ball, as always, with the Habanera and "Mon Coeur". I did a bit of a vamp, but not too much, as this was not the venue.

I found the seniors very moving - they reminded me of my partner as most of them were frail and fairly quiet and you could see the appreciation on their faces. No, it's not the kind of concert venue the Forum crowd sings in, but it's a chance to sing the music I love and make some people happy, so what more can you ask?

I "did the right thing" and thanked the woman who had helped coordinate this. Last week I was annoyed at her for forgetting that we were going to be rehearsing but everything worked out in the end, so I would be happy to do something there again.

So next up:

January Mother Jeanne in Dialogues of the Carmelites. This will entail a very intensive rehearsal schedule but it's my first time ever singing in an opera with an orchestra.

Spring 2011 concert with my teacher. We will do the deadly Amneris/Radames duet but I know by then I will be as comfortable with those B flats as I am with the As in the Judgment Scene. Wimping out is not an option. I don't know what else we'll sing, maybe a scene from La Gioconda. I also don't know if it will be just us, or if some other people will participate too. The purpose of this concert is mainly to celebrate my teacher's return to singing tenor, after several years going back to bass-baritone.

Fall 2011 Carmen with my "Samson" (shown here)?

The reason I'm so tired is that my 94 year old mother is dying of cancer. We never got along very well, and I am probably not doing everything I could or should, but she lives in Brooklyn and I need to spend time editing manuscripts to earn money. My severance check will have run out after I pay the November rent, so I am literally living from hand to mouth (I have a 401k but the money in it has to last for the rest of my life, and anyhow if I take money out of it now I'll be screwed for taxes).

This is a critical period in my life in terms of my financial profile. If I don't keep earning enough money over the next five years I will not get a decent amount from Social Security, which will affect the rest of my life. And the relationships I'm building with freelance clients will affect my livelihood for the next decade, if not more. I can't make a false move here.

I know this sounds callous but my mother is 94!! It's not like I need to savor every last minute with her because she's leaving too soon.

So I do what I can. The most draining thing is fielding endless phone calls and emails from people who are concerned, are visiting her, have visited her, etc. Luckily there are many people in Brooklyn who are close by who can visit her on the spur of the moment which I really can't. Rather ironically, my rehearsals of Carmelites will be in Brooklyn so maybe I can spend more time with her then, at least sleeping over and having breakfast.

So I'm very tired.

Of course I feel defensive about continuing to sing (not to mention spending money on lessons) while all this is going on, but I'm 60 and this is my last chance, even to do this on a tiny scale. I love the way it feels to sing the Judgment Scene from Aida and how many more years will I be able to do that?

Playing the Age Card before Someone Else Does

This evening I went to my monthly group coaching. They have one every Tuesday night but I only go once a month. It's open to about 7-8 people and for $20 we get to sing three arias or whatever with a pianist.

I brought the Judgment Scene and ran through two sections of it. I sang well. I sing this well. And I got quite a bit of applause. I also sang all the way through my part of the "Vengeance Duet" from Samson et Dalila which also went well (my voice really moves, which comes as a surprise to many people), and then ended with the Habanera.

I told people that this was my 46th anniversary of singing the piece, since the first time I sang it I was 14. And I know I am still a hot Carmen no matter how old I am.

I think I'm really past the age when I care who knows how old I am. I mean 60 is a big number, and being able to sound as fresh and young as I do at my age is something to be proud of, not something to hide.

If I were, say, 42, and still hanging on by my fingernails hoping for a big break, knowing I was competing with people ten years younger, it might be another story. But at my age who cares? No one is going to "hire" me for money to sing anything and in fact no matter how good I sound no one is even going to cast me in any of the "emerging pro" performances (unless it's a character my age, in which case my age shouldn't matter).

I think I'm as sexy a Carmen as women half my age.

I mean I see so many women my age who obviously have just "given up". It isn't a question of God-given body size or shape, it's a question of attitude. I see these women (there are a lot of them in offices) who are either never-married or divorced or married for decades and what's the new acronym - DINS (that stands for double income, no sex). They have bad posture from sitting at a desk all day and walk like they're uncomfortable with their bodies. I am not like that. I remember reading somewhere that if you're over 50 sexuality is supposed to be "a giggle". Hello??? Not for this sexy sexagenarian. I take myself very seriously as a seductress. That's why Carmen and Dalila are my favorite roles. (Not to mention that the famous arias don't have any scary high notes.)

So in any event I just let it rip and had fun tonight "doing" Carmen.

Of course no matter how well I sing most of the people sing better. There was one young woman who sounded glorious, who is auditioning for a company that not only threw my audition materials in the garbage, but whose "head" called me up and insulted me for even sending them. Was that really necessary?

And of course this woman could just soar up into the vocal stratosphere with no fears at all!

It never ceases to amaze me that there are all these people (sopranos) for whom high notes hold no terrors. They may be afraid of long phrases, the passagio break, French, or forgetting their music, but not of a high C and certainly not of a high B!

Speaking of which that deadly phrase in the Amneris/Radames duet is getting easier and easier. I just pretend I'm singing the one in the Judgment Scene that's one half step lower!!

So tomorrow it's on to sing the alto part in a Bach cantata. At least it has a decent range (sort of) and lots of long phrases requiring good breath control, which I have.

Someplace New

This morning I was responding to a post congratulating someone on a major accomplishment and I mentioned how "all the little successes add up and suddenly you're somewhere you never dreamed you could be".

Well, even if I'm not there yet, I'm somewhere I never dreamed I could be. The other day, I was vocalizing, then walking around my apartment, and I realized my core felt like iron. That it was strong enough to "let" me sing with a big sound without all the hard work. It was as if the hard work had been already done and I was reaping the rewards, instead of feeling that I was puffing myself up and bracing myself for each phrase.

So yesterday my bass colleague and I sang through our concert program, which for me began with the Habanera and ended with "Mon Coeur". Yes, I still sing an F at the end, unapologetically! The accompanist had the mezzo aria book with her to play from and that's the note that's there, so if people don't like it they can lump it.

We sing the Judgment Scene right after I sing the Habanera, so I was careful not to pull out all the stops and get "hammy" with the Habanera, which for me means always skirting the edge of treating it like a rock song, with lots of bombastic chest voice. It was also always a way I used to have of telegraphing "well, my voice is far from perfect, but I sure am hawt!". So I sang it with the same attention to technique that I would sing, say, Dido's Lament.

No problems with the Judgment Scene except I have to remember to count during the opening monologue (we're using books, which is fine).

Then we did the Gioconda duet which I laughingly think of as the "domestic violence duet", then the bass sang an aria from Eugene Onegin in Russian! and then we launched into the Vengeance Duet from Samson et Dalila. I figure if they applaud a lot and want an encore we can sing the fast part again. We were thinking of making it the last thing on the program but it wouldn't make sense for me to sing "Mon Coeur" first since it comes after in the opera.

This morning during the service my choir sang the spiritual "Bye and Bye". I was singing second soprano but there were a few sections in four parts where all the sopranos had to sing pianissimo high G sharps. And I did it without getting tired, because my new abs of steel were holding me up!! So, ok, I didn't sing the bar before each time, but so what? That's the great thing about choral singing.

I was almost on the verge of starting to feel inferior again because there are several people in the choir who went to big conservatories and that often feels like an "exclusive club" like the Ivy League. I mean I don't think studying voice in a academic setting really makes a person sing better, to me it's more important to have a teacher who is a good fit for one's individual vocal issues, but it's a place to make connections and it's a "credential" that makes people take you seriously.

I think at times a lot of my feeling blue about singing is "Wizard of Oz-ish" in that the issue isn't how well I do or don't sing but that people don't take me seriously. If I didn't go to a conservatory, don't get paid for whatever singing I do in church, and sing the "big girl stuff" in homemade concerts, why should anyone care? People who know me want to talk to me about my editing work but they rarely even ask about my singing and that includes people who sing that I bump into in the blogosphere.

Anatomy of a Phrase

In the middle of having a so-so lesson on Friday (I panicked before the deadly phrase with the B flat, then sang it acceptably twice), I suddenly had an "aha" moment. (Now of course I need to beware of these....I will have one, sing a difficult phrase well, and then find a way to screw myself up again.)

The phrase that's giving me so much trouble is only one half step higher than the phrase toward the end of the Judgment scene where she sings "Ah no, non e, non e un traditor" with the vowel "eh" at one point being sung on an ascending scale up to high A and back down. Which is as easy as rolling out of bed for me. Well, that's an exaggeration. What I mean is I know exactly what to do, what it should feel like, and I do it. So I just need to sing the other phrase the same way!!!.

My teacher keeps saying (and this has now been borne out by the last two posts by the great Toreador Song)that a low larynx will never fail me. Any silly tricks I use to try to "save my voice" will just make everything close up. So yesterday in my bathroom I sang the bloody thing three times and it never snafu'd.

1. Take a big breath through my mouth (if I breathe through my nose it has to cut through all that sinus junk and things tighten up).
2. Leave my throat position where it is.
3. Sing a dark awww vowel and just let the scale progress upwards (while I think downwards) and forward, having faith that the bloody note will be there. I mean it's just a half a step past my comfort zone. One tiny little half a step!

Must try again later this afternoon.

You Gotta Have a Gimmick

This morning at choir practice I was talking to someone who has managed to get together a small group to sing early music. They don't make a lot of money (he still has a "day job") but the endeavor has really taken off and the four of them travel all over the country giving concerts. So in addition to having ready made opportunities to sing (or not really "ready made", since they have to plan them, but, rather, "logical" if they're following a long range plan) they also get to do the kind of "fun" things people do when they travel to perform.

Then this man was telling me about another man from the choir who had left his job as a well-paid lawyer to work in the theater. (I'm not sure in what capacity - possibly as a director or choreographer.)

So what am I lacking here? Why can't I dream up something? Both my mother and my partner have always been lukewarm about my obsession with singing opera and keep asking me "why I don't want to do what Barbara Cook does?" I mean, ok, Barbara Cook is sui generis - there will never be another Barbara Cook, but what they mean is why don't I work up a cabaret show? The reason I don't is that I want to sing opera. That's what I love. OK, I know I'm too old to be cast by anyone else in a leading role, also that most of the leading roles I want to sing probably require more stamina than I will ever have given my age, my mostly sedentary lifestyle, and my jumping into the game late. Also many of those roles require a note or two that I'm not comfortable with. But there's nothing stopping me from singing scenes from all those operas, the scenes that don't have too many scary high notes, and that can be sequenced with easy things to sing like the Habanera or "Mon Coeur" in a concert.

I suppose, ironically, the repertoire that suits me best is oratorio. (I say "ironically" because my parents were militant atheists.) What's great about oratorio is I can sing with my big operatic voice without having to go to the ends of my range, or needing a lot of stamina. Even most of the soprano arias don't go scarily high (something that surprises people is how well I sing "Rejoice Greatly", which, in fact, only goes up to an A flat). But since I'm not a paid church singer (or a "name" of any kind), the likelihood of my getting to do much of that sort of thing other than the odd solo at my current choir gig is unlikely. (Maybe do a pocket "Verdi Requiem" - no chorus - some time as a special Lent program? That had been on my wish list but other things are ahead of it in the queue.)

But really none of that differentiates me from the herd. I'm just another mezzo, older than most who are still in the game, with a limited range, not a whole lot of stamina, minimal musical training, really nothing but red hair and a lot of chutzpah.

The problem is nothing "gimmicky" really comes to mind. I don't like rock or pop, don't write my own songs (and wouldn't want to), and am stumped when I try to come up with a one woman show - not a cabaret show, but maybe a little autobiography and a few arias.

Is the problem really that I lack imagination?

Choir Musings

I love my choir. Even though we don't get paid, the caliber is very high (I would defy anyone to pick it out of a group of New York choirs as being the one that's "amateur"); the music director is wonderful (I have never once heard him ask anyone to sing "straight tone", a vibrato-less way of singing that is the bane of most classically trained singers' existence); the people are really nice; and the Lutheran church has a progressive social justice message that appeals to this Unitarian, anyhow.

But I always appreciate having a break in the summer because taking a rest from trying to "blend" my voice (which for me means singing softly above the staff no matter what dynamics are written) is good for my vocal development.

For example I noticed when I came back to rehearsals a week or so ago I seemed to have more stamina and was able to sing a healthy pianissimo, or even hum on some of the higher notes rather than squeezing my larynx upwards and getting tired.

Part of the problem, of course, is that I sing in the soprano section.

Since I'm a mezzo who desperately needs every workout for my head register that I can possibly get, I avoid choral alto sections like the plague, because being stuck there, I would be lucky to get to sing an E (top space of the staff) every couple of months!! I mean I don't mind singing alto once in a while. Sometimes I'll do it if the piece we're singing is in four parts and the soprano part has a lot of "light" singing above the staff, if I'm singing a solo in a particular service and don't want to tire my voice, or if the composer has done something nice for us operatic mezzos and thrown in a note or two beyond the range of your average untrained choir alto (let's hear it for the Samuel Barber "Agnus Dei" where Alto 1 gets a high A flat!!)

But then of course singing soprano comes with its own set of problems.

I'm fine if the piece is in eight parts. Second soprano is really what a mezzo is so I'm in my comfort zone. Second soprano parts regularly go up to an E, an F, or even a G, but not above, and you rarely would have to sing softly above the staff. And since there's a part above me I can worry less about keeping the volume down.

Interestingly, Bach soprano parts are usually easy for me for some reason. Probably because they move. The "Halleluia Chorus" on the other hand is deadly. The only time I've gotten through it without choking was when I was a paid section leader (on one Easter only) and therefore felt entitled to sing as loud as was necessary to keep my larynx down.

In any event, coming back from my break I can see that I seem to get much less tired. Last night two of the pieces we sang had a high-ish tessitura (one had a second soprano part, but there were sections in four parts only with some G sharps meant to be sung lightly), but I really only ended up feeling the need to "cheat" (for me that means not singing the measure before any measure with a difficult high passage) at the very end of the rehearsal.

I will still probably stay home from choir practice the Wednesday before my concert, though, because I don't think choral soprano parts and the "Judgment Scene" are a good mix.

Mentors

I have been wanting to make a post on this subject for a long time, and am now inspired to by the circulation of a New York TIMES review of a new book called Bounce.

The thrust of the book (or of the review, in any event) is that hard work is much more important than talent. That high achievers (in sports, the arts, or chess) differ from others in that they spend hours practicing, in a fashion the author calls "chunking". (Brings to mind all the blood, sweat, tears, and obsessive thinking I've brought to that Amneris/Radames duet lately.)

Yes, in the talent/hard work debate I've always known that hard work trumps all, but there's a third factor that was not mentioned, at least in the review.

Mentors.

Now I am not referring to the silly (and ungrammatical)cliche "It's not what you know it's who(sic) you know". I'm not talking about using connections (with or without money or sex) to buy what you want. I'm talking about having the right person or persons in your life at the right time, to give you that extra push, pep talk, compliment, or whatever, to let you know that your talent (and the hard work needed to nurture it) matters.

I think in hindsight that my overwhelming obsession with The Mentor Who Shall Not Be Discussed stemmed from his being exactly the sort of person I am talking about. If I had met him 40 years ago, and he had held the side order of flirting - or not; maybe that was what carried the message - the course of my life might have changed significantly. But by the time he appeared I was well into my 50s, a minimum of fifteen years (and that's pushing it) past the age when any serious managers, coaches, directors, or producers would give a rat's tushy if I could sound like one of the Met mezzos with a little polishing. So for good or ill (and the jury continues to be out on this) all I got out of it was a homemade production of Samson et Dalila, a gig as an unpaid church soloist, and a chance to explore my own talent as a superannuated wannabe.

But suppose I had had someone when I was younger? Suppose my mother had nurtured my singing the way she nurtured my writing? Suppose a teacher in school had noticed my voice and taken me under her wing. I know every time I mention this I sound like a disgruntled Tea Partyer, but it's really true that in Brooklyn c. 1965, in my large public high school, the Black and Latino students were encouraged so sing (or dance, or play sports) and the white and Asian students were encouraged to take advanced calculus and elective civics. My mother and her friends all loved classical music, even opera (although my mother would only go to hear Mozart, Wagner, or something contemporary) but thought my interest in performing was "silly" and that I should be out protesting the VietNam War, writing modernist poetry, or, if I was going to sing, doing something edgy and avante garde. I liked Verdi??? How middlebrow.

And then there was my smoking habit. True, no one encouraged it, but no one, not even the voice teacher I went to for a few casual lessons, sat me down and read me the riot act, saying that I had an unusual talent and that if I didn't quit smoking immediately I would ruin it. (And yes, so what if I gained 10 or 15 pounds!)

When I finally put all my destructive addictions behind me and began really singing well, there was the issue of my partner. When I fell in love with her at 25 I had no idea I was marrying an ideology not just a person. And that ideology had no room for non-income-generating activities involving spending lots of time with straight men, not to mention as sexist an art form as opera. And I was young and impressionable and bought into it. And despite having a good voice teacher, who told me all the right things regarding how and what to sing, there was no one taking a holistic approach to my life.

So what I'm saying here is that not only is talent not enough, hard work is not enough either if no one really cares. If you don't make the right connections. If the road you choose is going in the wrong direction to nurture your talent and encourage your hard work, rather than in the right one.

Well, I guess since I can't turn back the clock, I'll just have to go back to "chunking".

Storm Has Passed

So OK, Gentle Readers. I owe it to you all to let you know I'm feeling a lot better.

First of all, my check came in the mail. The downside of being a freelancer is you never know when you're going to have work and you never know when you're going to get paid for the work that you did. But I wouldn't trade it for the world. Even with all the anxiety, this sure beats the mind-numbing boredom (not to mention all the infantilizing rules) of working in an office, even in a fairly high level job. Believe me, I know.

And second of all, I had a really good practice. Am I really winning the "Battle of the B flat" this time? Well, if nothing else, I am deconstructing this piece way in advance of when I'll have to sing it. When I use some of Agnes Baltsa's tricks, it seems easier. She doesn't take a breath in the middle of the upward progression and she also doesn't sing any words!! Just "Ahh". And she doesn't really do a portamento at the end of the first "Or dal ciel si compira". That's where I was needing a good breath and the portamento didn't allow time for it. Now I have no idea if my teacher will be ok with these tricks, but at least they're helping me get through it. And my voice is a lot more like Baltsa's than like Simionato's or Cossotto's - or Zajick's. I don't have a big chest register and my instrument is more wiry and slender, possibly because however big my hips are on a given year, I have a long narrow head (hence the need for all the big hair).

After singing through the scene beginning at "Ma, s'io ti salva" (which is where you have no breaks) and being happy with it I sang through the Judgment Scene which really, now, is like rolling out of bed.

And I seem to have more stamina singing with the choir. One good thing about having a conservatory-trained soprano sitting next to me (no one else in the section would ever sit next to me - LOL!) is that I can sing with my larynx down and she isn't going to tell me to shut up. Also I can hear her, whether we're singing the same part or she's on soprano 1 and I'm on soprano 2.

One of the pieces we're singing is a spiritual where the whole soprano section sings quite a few high G sharps. Not a difficult note for me but it is if I've got people hocking me to keep the volume down. Also I used to get tired singing in that tessitura but I noticed I didn't last night. So all that is good.

A Very Tiny Fish

Usually I take my bad moods to "the other place" (someplace I write under a pseudonym and yes, you will have to waterboard me to get the link), but since this one is specifically about singing, why not bring it before a wider audience.

First of all, I am not in a great mood because I have no freelance work on the immediate horizon (something's supposed to come in at the end of the month) and I'm waiting for a check to come in the mail.

Then I heard one of the "real" singers in my building warm up. By "real" I mean she is no doubt under 45 and makes a living entirely from music-related activities, like cantoring, giving voice lessons, and singing a leading operatic role at a C or D house.

And to add insult to injury, she is a large-voiced soprano who can, oh so easily, sail up above high C.

So ok, I am really really really envious not just of singers who can do it for a living, but also of singers who don't have to struggle and fight just to sing a note or two above A natural. And this includes a lot of mezzos. My teacher assures me that this is physiological, not technical. He is not the only teacher I have studied with but aside from being able to sing staccati up to an E flat as a teenager (before I was well ensonced into my two pack a day cigarette habit), I have really never been able to sing consistently above A natural no matter what technique or imagery I use. I mentioned my teenage smoking here, but I've been told that since I haven't had a cigarette in almost 30 years now, that is not the culprit. My teacher says my vocal chords may be "shorter and thicker" than many female singers, even mezzos.

So ok. I will never have an easy upper register (for an opera singer - compared to people who sing pop or even some MT my voice sounds very high)just as I will never have narrow hips or be 5 foot 8 (I am still hoping to make it back up to 5 foot 5, since I was once 5 foot 6).

It's also very painful being a wannabe living around the corner from the Met. I mean most of the time I feel truly blessed. I have a rent stabilized apartment around the corner from the Met, on a safe street, in a building where dogs are allowed, where there's an elevator, and where we have a very strong tenants association that lobbies for our rights and then some. So barring a disaster or a huge windfall, I intend to die here.

But on the other hand I am constantly reminded that I am way at the bottom of the food chain where singing is concerned. The city is crawling with women who sound as good (and can sing a note or three higher than I can with no struggle), look as good, are 30 years younger, have conservatory degrees, and all sorts of apprenticeships and YAPs on their resumes.

So what am I really? A middle aged (well, they now say middle age lasts until you're 60) who had the chutzpah and ingenuity to put on a concert version of Samson et Dalila in a church? Who has the chutzpah to get up and sing in "meetups" where everyone else is either (much) younger or managed? I mean even in our no-pay Upper West Side choir now there are "stars" from conservatories. So ok, there are 52 weeks of the year and I can still get plenty of solo spots.

So, ok, I just have to look on the brighter side. Today I have a "free" day (I mean really, there are only so many hours I can send out resumes) so after picking up my mail (and hoping there's a check there), and doing a few errands, I can take my "battle with the B flat" into my bathroom with the water running full blast.

I really only have a few more days to wrestle with this duet. My nursing home concert is coming up where I'm singing the Judgment Scene (not hard for me) and several other duets so I need to go back to those.

And make sure I know the second soprano part on this spiritual we're singing.

More from May 17, 2008 Samson et Dalila in Concert

OK. this came as a total surprise. I had expected to receive the earlier one seen here, because my friend, who took it with a digital camera and then had to figure out how to make a print of it, told me it was coming. But this one was a complete surprise.

If I haven't mentioned it already, this performance was the culmination of over four years of planning and dreaming of singing this role. It should have allowed me an afterglow lasting several weeks, at least, where I could have been the person who sang that role, talking about it to friends, the way one talks about a prom or a wedding, but it just so happened that the very next day there was some ugliness at work, caused by mistakes that, yes, I was partially responsible for, but that wouldn't have happened if we hadn't outsourced a lot of work to the Philippines! So that work problem ended up front and center on my screen (and everyone else's) which meant no one asked about or was interested in hearing about my special day. (Even I didn't have the energy to deliciously daydream about it.)

I don't know about other people, but for me, a major achievement is special not only in and of itself, but also in that it affects my feelings about myself. So no matter how dreary my daylife was (and believe me, it was dreary!!) to a handful of people on one afternoon, I was a real diva. I mean what I did wouldn't bear discussing with the Forum crowd, who are off auditioning for C and D houses for a paycheck, but to laypeople, I'm a singer.

I've often thought if I had lived in a small town, I would really have been a diva doing something like that, since it would have been the extent of most people's exposure to opera. But not here in the Big Apple, alas.

So now it's back to work. On my art, I mean. And yes, on my freelance editing, which is nice because it's something I do but it doesn't define me. If I walk into the supermarket with all my makeup on, no one knows if I'm a copy editor, a paid performing artist, or a lady of the evening in the morning (apologies to Rogers and Hart).

Domingo & Baltsa in duet act IV from Verdi's Aida

Yes!

1. She was my age when she sang this. In fact, I remember it on tv.

2. She ignores the portamento after the first "si compira", which is an energy drain.

3. She doesn't sing any words on the ascending scale, just "ah" and doesn't take a breath.

4. It's totally awesome.

Happy and Grateful

Today I am very happy and grateful.

First of all, today is 35 years without a drink (since "being on the wagon" is slang for being sober, I couldn't resist the graphic).

It's really hard to fathom. I drank heavily from the age of 18 through a few months past my 25th birthday (during what, if I were young now, would be called my "emerging adulthood").

Drinking wreaked havoc with every area of my life but I in some ways I don't think it did as much damage to me as a singer as the fact that I started smoking at age 14. I started smoking because I thought I was "hugely fat". I was not. I was five foot 6 and my weight fluctuated between 140 and 160. So, ok, at 160 I was too heavy but at 140-150 I wasn't even overweight and had what in the 1940s or 1950s would have been considered a sexy figure.

Ironically, it was not long after I started smoking that people began commenting on what an extraordinary voice I had. I sang in the soprano section of my glee club (because it was easy for me to sing a G or an A - still is, but not higher) and sounded like Julie Andrews with the volume ramped way up. I began to toy with the idea that I could be a singer, however I simply could not give up the demon weed. Not long after that I began drinking (and stuffing my face with just about anything else I could find - except LSD, which I had heard could make you crazy for life).

I stopped drinking a few months after my 25th birthday and about a year later stopped smoking (the first time). After that I started studying voice with the teacher I'm studying with today (before that I had done a brief stint as a chorister and cover for the lead contralto in a Gilbert & Sullivan troupe)and kept singing better and better over the next four years. I stopped at 30 (I've written quite a bit about this - my choice was based on a need for a more regular income, wanting to go to college at night, and my partner's dislike of my involvement with an avocational activity where there were too many straight men) and then went right back to smoking.

Fortunately, not for very long, since a woman who was my age (32) had died of lung cancer, which scared me. Also, just as I was told that "dykes don't sing opera" I was also told that "self-loving dykes don't smoke", which, I guess, helped. Although I never went back to singing - not until I was 54.

Although I wanted to smoke every single day up until I began singing again, fortunately, I have never wanted to drink after about the first year.

No matter how much I kvetch, I am very blessed. I am extremely healthy for someone of 60, and, at the same weight and height I was at 12, where I was teased for being fat, I am considered "curvy and trim" compared to most women my age. I have someone who adores me, even though she lives with many mental and physical (and financial) challenges, and the privilege of being able to work freelance and get health insurance for my former employer, who considers me a "retiree".

And I'm singing better and better. Yes, I often feel envious, sad, and self-hating because I buckled under to pressure and never went back to singing until I was seduced into it by The Mentor Who Shall Not Be Discussed, but I have what I have now. I am getting to learn one of my dream roles (Amneris) and even if I will probably never have the stamina (or a decent C flat) to sing the whole opera I can sing various scenes in concerts, which I am signed up to do over the next year.

While we're on that subject, I had a really good runthrough of the duet yesterday, beginning with "L'abborita rival". Yes, singing that upward progression on one breath with my mouth closed at the beginning, is the key.

Then I went with my partner to see My Dog Tulip and came back to her house to see our beloved Dachshund, who is getting better every day!

Continuing to Slog Along

Yesterday I had a lesson and didn't really sing all that well. It's unusual for me not to sing as well at a lesson as I do at home, but maybe I was just tired. It was in the mid-80s and very humid. And I had had a busy day beforehand.

I am still struggling with "Chi ti Salva". It seems that no matter what approach I try, what technique I use, blah, blah, blah, singing B flats (never mind anything higher, which I wouldn't attempt in public) is just bloody hard and sometimes the note is there, sometimes not.

I thought I had gotten past that when I did so well with "O Ma Lyre Immortelle". I always nailed that B flat at the end, even if it was just a scream on pitch.

The problem with this scene seems to be when I start at the beginning. So after 45 minutes of hard work on exercises, my teacher made me begin at the very beginning, with "L'abborita rival". And then he went over a lot of it with a fine tooth comb. He says he is now acting as a coach not just a teacher and he wants to make sure everything is stylistically correct. So we went back over a lot of the phrases and did them several times. I mean there's nothing up until "Chi ti salva" that's vocally difficult, but it is a lot of singing.

So when we got to "Chi ti salva" I literally could not sing that note - it was in danger of being a hideous yell. That scares me. I can't risk ever singing like that in public. Well, I don't have to think about it. I have until April to get this in shape and on a day I would be singing it in public I would be well rested and I would know exactly what I was doing every minute.

My teacher didn't seem to think it was serious. He said some of the problem is I'm still learning the piece, fumbling for notes, words, etc.

Then we tried something different. I realized I never have trouble singing long scales. In fact I can usually do those up to a C. And when I've felt like interpolating a B flat as part of a run in "Rejoice Greatly" it has not been that hard (I usually don't bother). So I've decided to approach that progression by not taking a breath and just starting "Or dal ciel" on the C and not breathing until I've gone up and back. If I keep my mouth closed up until the G I will save my energy.

Oh, I totally forgot. I had mentioned "cheating" a while ago. My teacher said that's a no no.

I mean the thing is bloody hard. There's no place to take a rest beginning at "Ma, s'io ti salva" and it's heavy singing going on from that.

My teacher and I also talked about strength, girth, and stamina. He referred to me as "small" which makes me laugh since I'm 5 3.5 and weigh 143. As far as BMI is concerned I'm on the borderline for being overweight. My teacher said singers don't need to be "fat" but most good singers, certainly with big voices, have a lot of muscle mass around the middle, like Dolora Zajick.

In other news, I have been watching the US Open. I am not a big sports fan but I love women's tennis and also listening to talk about how athletes train and isolate weaknesses and train over and over to improve a skill is very inspirational to me working on my voice. I may be old, tired, weak(er - compared to younger singers with years of training) but I can work and work and work and perfect my art until I drop dead, if that's what I want to do.

When in Doubt, Cheat

"Chi ti salva" is coming along, I think. No squawks this afternoon. And I sang some big ringing high B flats that surprised me (big, dark, larynx down, but with a lot of top spin).

Picking the piece apart, I decided the problem was that it keeps going and there's no place to take a decent breath. I mean the whole way the phrase is traditionally sung is a "cheat". The phrase is really supposed to begin on "Or dal ciel" with the word "ciel" continuing for the rest of the bloody progression. I mean who knows where you were really supposed to breathe? The standard "cheat" is to sing "Or dal ciel", take a breath after the E natural, and then go from the F to the G to the B flat down to the A flat and then take another breath. I think gulping for air was what caused my throat to close up. So I tried just not singing the bloody F, using that moment to take a good breath, and then singing the G, the B flat, and the A flat, made a world of difference. I sang the phrase here there and elsewhere and the worst I got was once it went "straight" but "straight" is better than a squawk. I've heard Borodina and others come out with a straight screamy B flat or B natural and live to see the next day.

So it's a work in progress.

I was supposed to have a lesson today but my teacher canceled because the plumber was there and as he put it "the plumber was banging and the dogs were barking, hardly conducive to giving singing lessons" and he thought this might be going on for several days. So we rescheduled for Friday.

Now I'm going to take a serious look at the duet with Aida, which should be fun since the highest note I have to sing is an A flat. There the challenge will be staying on the bottom part while a large voiced soprano is wailing up in the stratosphere. Some singers are natural harmonizers. I am not.

Then later I think I'll crack the Italian dictionary and do some translating. I think I know what she's singing most of the time but I need to understand every word.

Lastly, I ordered myself a score of La Gioconda. Since I'm now working on the entire role more or less, I am tired of singing from xeroxes. Needless to say when I stopped singing at 30 I gave away or sold all my scores.

Another Reason to Doubt Myself

I was feeling very optimistic about how good things were sounding. And I was pleasantly surprised when I looked at the Aida/Amneris duet to see that the two climactic high notes are A flats which means I can really enjoy myself singing and focus on the character.

But then today I got an email from the group that I sing with on occasional Tuesday evenings, mentioned here which was an invitation to a public concert by this group. So the question is, how does a person become a member of the group proper rather than just a hanger on? Why are some people chosen for these concerts? Do you get to audition for them? I know they produce operas and that these have open auditions. So maybe that's where the concert participants come from. I don't know.

So again, there's this feeling that I am a second class citizen. I'm too old, I don't have musical training, I don't have a history, I don't have a network. I think one reason I get so nervous getting up and singing at these things is because I have no one there for me. I'm not (as) nervous when I'm singing with my bass colleague or in something I produced myself, where people have come to hear me, etc. But I am just an outlier at these get togethers.

Although, well, there was that soprano who wanted to sing a duet with me.

I just really, really, really would have liked to be in that concert.

On the Right Track

Why is it that I always forget that if I want to sing well in this new fach that I've sort of fallen into, I have to monitor every note I sing and everything I do, particularly what I eat and don't eat, how much rest I get, and how much (and how) I talk.

For the past several weeks now, we haven't had any gas to cook with (details over at "the other place" because it involves money and an adversarial relationship). So my main protein staple, fish, is impossible to cook for myself. It's a bummer because now that I'm an underemployed freelancer, I had been trying to cook at home to save money. I do live around the corner from Gourmet Garage, which has a lot of prepared foods that are not that expensive, but they haven't had much fish. So I was eating a lot of ravioli and manicotti with cheese. Eating this high a percentage of carbohydrate really saps my energy. It's not something I would notice if I weren't singing material written for a voice (like mine) that's huge and requires major support, but I can really tell when I don't have that extra oomph (and with out it, sweetie, those B flats ain't happening). Anyhow, yesterday I really lucked out and bought some prepared tilapia (I know a woman I respect enormously, both re: singing and nutrition says tilapia tastes like papers towels, but nevertheless, I really like it)and had it for lunch two days running and last night I had some more tilapia (cooked from scratch) at my partner's house.

I also have been sleeping better since the little dachshund isn't in danger of death, just needs to be confined and not handled (which is very hard for everyone).

So today I cautiously attacked "Chi ti salva". First I just sang that section and that note was ok-ish. Ditto singing beginning with "Ma s'io ti salva, giurami". Then I started from the very beginning of the scene ("L'abborita rivale a me sfuggia"). I watched every single note and allowed myself all breaks. One important thing I have to do is not be lazy about the recits. If I am lazy either by singing too bombastically or too softly, my larynx is not in the right place. So in any event I got through the first B flat just barely (it was straight, and not held for one second more than the note value) but I decided to move on and of course in the reprise it was glorious, ditto when I made myself sing again from "Chi ti salva".

So how do I sing like that all the time??? I wish I knew. I will have a big confab with my teacher about it Tuesday. We can focus on this because since I liked how the Judgment Scene sounded I can give it a rest for a few weeks.

Then I did some work on the Dalila and Daddy duet, again, not letting myself get funky with it.

I don't know where my bad habit of getting "funky" (by which I mean singing too loud in the chest register, dropping the volume suddenly here and there, like a jazz singer, playing with the words in ways that are not vocally healthy) came from. I never sang jazz or pop, just Gilbert and Sullivan. Possibly it's because very early on, when I was a heavy smoker, I sang easy things (meaning nothing that went above an F or F sharp) and fooled around with the sex, the drama, the comedy, whatever, and people were forgiving because I was young and svelte and had a lot of chutzpah. So it's easy to slip back into that sort of pattern particularly singing Dalila, who has very little to sing that's vocally challenging other than two exposed high B flats and a bit of monologue in the Third Act.

I was very pleased with how I handled this issue in the Judgment Scene - namely, observing the dynamic markings to a T and that's it!! No getting "emo" as the young people say. So I need to revisit the score of Samson et Dalila and look at the dynamic markings in the same way. The roulade (AKA the "battle cry") in the duet is sounding more under control.

Back in the Saddle

Well, after hearing two glorious dramatic sopranos yesterday, and not having any paying work to do, I was inspired enough to do a serious practice.

The high B flat in the first round of "Chi ti salva" is so not good. It's fine if I just sing a little chunk leading up to it (that's why it's easier the second time) but today I tried singing the scene from the beginning (not really difficult up to that point, and to me the passage "e patria, e trono, e trono, e vita, tutto darei per te" is one of the most achingly beautiful things to sing). Well, I think a lot of the recitative sections, which seem to contain a lot of hard consonants, just tire me out, so I need to figure out a strategy. Also singing the word "vendetta" is not great for keeping the voice in a comfortable spot for soaring upwards. Yes, I sang a couple of drop dead B flats a la Simionato, but it's still a crap shoot. So ok, I have until next April or May to get this in shape. But learning a new piece is one thing, singing a note that has terrified me for 35 years is another.

Another thing I did that I probably shouldn't have was go through the Dalila and Daddy duet with the recording to check my entrances. Most of Dalila is easy to sing incorrectly - there's always the temptation to croon the sexy parts and bellow the angry parts, particularly in the beginning where it's in a very low tessitura. I am convinced now that Sir Arthur Sullivan had the Vengeance Duet in mind when he wrote "So go to him and say to him" from Patience. It's a duet between two comic characters - Bunthorne (a send-up of Oscar Wilde) and Lady Jane, one of his middle aged admirers. I sang Lady Jane when I was 22 and smoking like a chimney (complete with body padding because she sings about being "stout" and at that time I was five foot six, 125 pounds thanks to the appetite suppressant benefits of good old nicotine). In any event, singing that duet from Samson et Dalila it's easy to slip into G&S style patter which isn't great for the voice, either.

So ok. Now it's off to visit my little Dachshund and assemble a "pup tent" for him.

Tomorrow I will do the piece again. The Mentor (Who Shall Not Be Discussed) always told me it was good to learn a piece backwards, particularly if the ending is the hardest part. (My current teacher actually told me something similar....to isolate the difficult section and keep singing it by itself until it was comfortable.) I also need to pinpoint all the bad habits that creep in during those preceding pages.

Quarterbacking

So this evening I sang in one of the group get togethers. For once my partner didn't pick a fight over it, so I didn't have that dragging me down. I haven't been sleeping well because I am very upset about my little dachshund. He has a herniated disk and a few days ago was stumbling and unable to stand and I really thought we were going to lose him. He has rallied somewhat now, although it's really a case of having to be cruel to be kind because he must be confined as much as possible, not allowed on the bed, where the soft surface will make it hard for his back to heal, not allowed to wander up or down the ramp. So he's confined to the floor under the bed, which is made easier since he's stoned on painkillers. He can't have toys, either, because he shakes his head when he has a toy in his mouth.

Anyhow, I managed to warm up to a high C and then went off and sang "Stella del Marinar" from La Gioconda. Not my best singing, I seemed to have a lot of phlegm and took some breaths in really stupid places (I have been singing this aria for 30 years, and in the past, when my voice was smaller, I seemed to have more breath control)but nailed the ending. Then I got to vamp it up with "Mon Coeur", which I hadn't sung in about 9 months, because I'll be singing it in the nursing home concert with my bass friend. For my last piece, I was going to do one of the Dvorak songs, but since I have never even heard it with an accompaniment, I didn't want to fumble through it. If it's one of the ones the choir director likes, I can try to find it on You Tube. So for my last piece I did Dalila's extended monologue right before the Vengeance Duet. It's four pages of singing, so it was a respectable thing to do in this setting. I need to brush up on entrances etc.

One really exciting thing is I found a soprano to sing duets with. I have a bass, and a few tenors, but no sopranos. This is a woman with a big dramatic voice, so we can do duets from La Gioconda and Aida which will be great.

The most important thing is, I haven't been feeling very sing-y lately, as a result of my anxiety about the dachshund, so it was a good discipline to just get up and sing anyway. If I were a real pro I would have to do that, right?

Another No Thank You

My last post was about how well I felt I'd sung at the little Musicale. Well, there was a possibility that this could have led to our singing (if not that scene then something) at a more public concert next month but it's not to be.

I got an email from our hostess saying she wouldn't be able to use us in that concert, and it was a "closed" letter not an open one, meaning she wished us good luck, but did nothing to indicate that she would be interested in us in the future. (In other words, she didn't say the equivalent of "I'll keep your resume on file", which really often does mean the person's interested, they just don't have a spot.)

So now it's on to our concert at the nursing home in October. It will be a chance to sing, and seniors (particularly there) are very appreciative, but for example we were told we couldn't invite more than five guests apiece, so it's hardly a chance to exercise bragging rights.

To keep my hand in a broad range of things, I have been looking at some Dvorak sacred songs that I might do as choir solos. They're in the book for "high voice" because the only other alternative is the book for "low voice" which is too low. This particular collection doesn't come in "medium voice" which is what would be most appropriate. They're not too high, don't get me wrong. One of them has a high A marked "forte" and two of the others have Gs marked "forte" which is fine, but the choir director probably won't like that. Well, if he likes one of the songs and wants me to transpose it down a whole step that's fine (I think the songs in the book for "low voice" are a third lower.)

I must admit I haven't felt a lot like singing for the past week. My little Dachshund has a herniated disc and he's staying with my partner, to be away from my cats and keep her company. He's supposed to be on "crate rest" but he hates being confined which means she's stuck in the house with him for the most part. We were told he's not a good candidate for surgery since he's 12.

I have a lesson tomorrow and am signed up for one of these singing Meetups (group coachings) on Tuesday night, so maybe that will get my energy back up.

Amneris Take 2, or All's Well that Ends Well

I had a horrible night last night - woke up at 2:30 and didn't get back to sleep until 5, but I guess I made up for it by sleeping until 10. It took me a long time to warm up (I was really scared - it had been a long time since it had been that hard for me to sing light "bloos" up to a G) but after a cheese omelette and a slow morning (I also had a piece of fresh salmon on a sandwich and went light on the coffee) I did a good warmup up to a B and in any event the ending to the Judgment Scene went like a house afire. I think I really have stumbled upon something new where I can sing those top As big, fat, and round, with a lot of topspin.

And we sang the s**t out of the piece at this afternoon's little concert. The woman hosting it was lovely, her apartment is gorgeous, and the other performers were really nice and interesting. I felt good about how I sounded (and how my bass colleague sounded) and people gave me lots of compliments. Here are a few:

The role is perfect for you. Have you sung it anywhere? Do you know it?

You are so dramatic! (That's thanks to my observing the dynamic markings to a T. I didn't really do any acting since we were singing from books, other than raising my fist in the air and then collapsing in grief (after I had sung the last note).

You have a magnificent voice.

Well, I've waited 40 years for this. I just wish I felt this was "going" somewhere. I never forget that the clock is ticking faster and faster.

Not a Good Pre-Performance Day

I had hoped to spend today doing a few simple chores for my partner, being snuggly with her and the dog, and resting for tomorrow's performance. (So ok, ok, to most of the Forum crowd, and the people auditioning for C and D houses, it's not a big deal, it's just a "Musicale" in someone's living room. But it's a big deal to me, as being the first time I'm singing the Judgment Scene (with 3 high As) in public.)

First of all, my partner lives in a Collyersoid dump full of papers and dust. Not to mention that almost anything is an occasion for a quarrel(if I want to be honest, I suppose she's my ex partner, but I try not to get too personal in this blog - I save that for "the other place").

And it finally came out why she hates everything to do with my singing (unless it's in church). It's because places where I might be singing are co-ed i.e. full of straight men

Which brings me back to the subject of earlier posts where I mentioned that being a Lesbian (actually I'm now a closet bi, but nevermind) trying to be successful in a mainstream art form, was so impossible.

The kind of Lesbian she is or wanted me to be, is really not that different from being Amish or Hassidic.

So now I just have to get a good night's sleep, eat healthily tomorrow, not have any aggro, and hope for the best. If nothing else, I sang really really well in yesterday's runthrough. I have really never sung high notes like that before.

A Moment of Sadness

This needs be brief - I need to do one more runthrough of the Judgment Scene before Sunday.

I got an email today from the opera company that turned me down out of hand because I was too old (said they wanted singers with "future potential" whatever that means) and it made me sad. I mean it's one thing to decide I'm too old to play Erika in Vanessa. She is after all, the youngest in a three generation family. But to be too old to play La Zia Principessa in Suor Angelica?? She could easily be my age and in any event everyone says I look about 45. I mean who the bloody Hell knows who has future potential??? One of the 30somethings could have three kids and call it quits. In any event, these people still keep me on their email list, so I heard about their upcoming Trittico

I was happy to see that two singers I know got leads. My guess is they are each in their late 30s, with big operatic voices that they're not ashamed to steer in that direction.

But you see that's who I wish I were. Not Olga Borodina or Dolora Zajick, although that would be nice.

Just a woman in my late 30s or early 40s with "promise".

I mean what promise do I have now? Every day that I can sing scenes from Amneris (or even just vocalize up to a solid high B)is stolen time, I know that.

I had a good lesson yesterday. My teacher was being picky and he said that note (my first crack at the high A at the end of the Judgment Scene) would have been good enough for last lesson but not this one. So he made me do it over and over, at least five times. It gets easier and easier to sing those notes big and full. (It also helps, beloved choir director forgive me!!, not to be squeezing my voice to blend in with the choir for a while.)

So now it's the countdown. One more runthrough of the (second half of) the Judgment Scene, then tomorrow is a rest day (I am staying with my partner and our dog) and then Sunday I'm on.

I pray that there's no crisis that keeps me from the concert (with two ill elderly people and now an ill elderly dog as well, it's dicey). And please send good vibes that I do my very best.

As for "future potential"? Well, I have what I have, folks!!