At the end of the month I have an audition for a role in a Handel opera (a long shot, of course, since the character is a romantic love interest and the production was advertised as avante garde) so when I wasn't able to find a CD of it at The Lincoln Center Library, I decided to buy one at The Juilliard Store.
Which brings me to a subject I have pondered for quite some time. What's a gal with a modest talent to do when her "local" this, that, and the other are Lincoln Center, the Met, and Juilliard??
Many's the time I wished I lived in "East Eggshell, Iowa", a generic catchword used by one of my former coworkers for small town America. If nothing else, I could be a working comprimaria at their local opera house and a minor celebrity in the grocery store.
Many readers know that, in addition to singing opera, I have also written a play. It's called Duet and is the story of a young church singer whose life is transformed forever by singing Dalila's "Mon Coeur S'Ouvre a ta Voix" under the tutelage of a charismatic voice coach. The play was produced in a tiny town in Texas and there was a story about me in their local paper. When I was interviewed, the interviewer asked if I would like a copy of the story sent to my "hometown paper". "Won't the people back home be proud of you?" he said. Well, I just burst out laughing. "My hometown paper is The New York TIMES", I said. "And no, I don't think they'd be interested."
So why haven't I moved? First of all, New York is where I come from so there's noplace to go back to. I wasn't strictly born in the Big Apple itself. I was born in Brooklyn Heights which used to be a lot like a small town, but now rents are prohibitive (my apartment in the armpit of Lincoln Center is rent stabilized), and it has lost its small town flavor. When I was growing up there was a theater troupe called The Heights Players which really was for the locals (in those days primarily housewives who had once dreamed of being actresses)and I and other local children sang in the chorus if they did a musical, but now as I understand it's overrun with people from the tristate area who are serious about having careers in the theatuh, much as the no-pay no-fee opera groups that used to comprise the Opera Underground several decades ago have now re-emerged as prep schools for yappers and resting places for managed professional singers between gigs.
So Brooklyn Heights really isn't an option. And when I add to the mix that there really is noplace I could live more cheaply, not to mention that I've never learned to drive, I'm sort of stuck here. Which is fine, most of the time, I just sometimes have these yearnings not to be such a tiny fish that I can't even really swim my way into a tiny pond.
Unless you count church fundraisers of course.
If I haven't mentioned it, my profile picture shows me hanging out in a minister's office preferatory to entertaining the congregation and their friends with the Habanera. An hour of dressing, including professionally applied stage makeup and a wig, for less than 10 minutes of singing, but I had a ball.
Some people idolize celebrities. I idolize "working singers" in my fach who sing medium sized roles and cover larger roles in medium size opera houses. I laugh when I read their postings about "coming to New York". For them, New York is the Promised Land, and my "nabe" is the Holy Grail. Maybe sometime I'll run into one of them on their way to an audition while I'm grocery shopping in my jeans, big hair, and stage makeup.
Oh, if I didn't mention it, even though I'm not a real diva, I always dress like one, even in the grocery store.
Now It's back to listening closely to my audition aria and coming up with solid ornamentation for the da capo.
A bientot.
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