Rip Van Winkle Waking

When I returned to singing at age 54, I was rather astounded at how much better I sounded than I had at 30. Well, for one thing, I was several decades, not five years, away from my last cigarette, and for another, I had stopped crash dieting. At the time I resumed singing I was still five foot six (I'm now five three and a half, and that half is something I've regained from studying Pilates) and was up to 145 pounds and that was just fine. I also had better posture. When I sang in my 20s I had so much conspiring against me - a recent history of alcohol, drug, and nicotine addiction; thinking I had to be "really skinny", particularly because my specialty at that time was trouser roles, ("really skinny" to me meant keeping my weight under 130 pounds, which was still nowhere near fashion model size but made me look boyish while, unfortunately, keeping me weak and easily tired); feeling isolated as the only Lesbian I knew who sang opera; having an unsympathetic partner (this hasn't changed). I also (this one's for the gals) think being post-menopausal helped my voice. It sounded and felt "lighter" and had more clarity, for one thing, and I also felt more or less the same any day of the month.

So in any event, there I was, my properly produced voice soaring over the church's small choir, feeling my oats singing excerpts from Carmen, Samson et Dalila, and La Gioconda not to mention all the sacred arias I sang in church, thinking the world was my oyster. I mean, if I sang circles around the 30 year old self who had been cast as Laura, I was ready to compete, right? Sadly, wrong.

A lot had changed in 25 years. When I was in my 20s, I sang in what I now know was called the "Opera Underground" - small opera groups that didn't pay (only one, back then, expected singers to pay them) where most of the performers were older, had established "day jobs", and had minimal musical (although often superb vocal) training. The singers ranged from "as good as what you'd hear at the Met" to, well, let's be frank - "cringeworthy". So as a young, slim, hardworking mezzo with a pleasant voice, I got cast in lots of things. Never as Carmen, which was a sore point (I was told I "didn't have the personality" which was code for "honey, you look like a dyke") but I did get cast as Laura in La Gioconda. Yes, there were conservatory graduates back then, who followed a different career path, but there were lots of performance opportunities for us amateurs.

Now things are different. Everything (except maybe a handful of pay-to-sings) is a training ground for young emerging professionals or a pit stop for managed professional singers who want a role on their resume that they're not likely to get cast in for money at a particular point in their career.

So no matter how I sounded, there was really nothing for me, who obviously was over 40 and really had nothing on my resume other than "choir soloist" for the past several decades.

Despairing of a place to sing, I stumbled on a few nuggets. The first was a "Meetup". Meetups are open to whoever is willing to pay the $15 or $20, so I began with that. In the beginning I was terrified and it showed. Not to mention that all these people knew each other, which meant they rooted for each other when they stood up to sing, while I was mostly ignored, although I did get some applause. Gradually I lost some of my fear and most importantly, I kept going. When I got a Facebook account I had some of my fellow Meetup singers as friends. That kept it real.

Then a woman I had bumped into on the Forum asked people to sing at a hospital concert. So I got on the roster for those.

And I found another meetup.

I soon learned that even if my confidence (mostly about singing above the staff) was still not what it should be, I could hold my own in that at least I always knew my music, never looked flustered, almost never lost my place (unless I was trying out a brand new piece of church music) and never asked for a do-over. I just smiled and soldiered on.

It was still hard not knowing anyone. I don't really have any "singing friends", people who are where I am vocally, and chronologically. Except my bass friend, who started singing opera at 39 after singing Music Theater exclusively.

So now I've found a Sunday afternoon salon. It says we can sing scenes or duets, so I've emailed him re: if he wants to join me. If not, I'll go by myself.

There are still things conspiring against me. I still get tired easily (I have a big voice and for a voice that size I'm still a small person, not to mention I'm going to be 60 next month and spend most of my time as an editor hunched over a computer), my partner is unsympathetic, and I have to worry about her health crises not to mention my mother's. And I have to put in a certain number of hours copyediting or I won't be able to pay my bills. And I don't have a conservatory or regional opera background and the network one builds from that.

But I know God wants me to sing (why else would s/he have sent someone to find me at the back of a church) so I must.