Monday, May 9, 2011

When Beautiful Isn't Good Enough

Well, this afternoon I spent about 20 minutes solid on those ascending phrases in the Randall Thompson piece. It's called "Two Worlds" and it's about aging. We're singing it in a service dedicated to members of the congregation who are over 80. One of them is the beloved violinist I perform with sometimes. I'm not sure who the others are. That's even older than my partner, who will be 77 next month.

I produced numerous truly gorgeous shimmering high A naturals but none of them soft enough for this context, I don't think. A few nice mezzopianos but that's not good enough, certainly not from a voice like mine. The A flat really isn't a problem. Unless I'm having a very bad day I can sing softly on an A flat. But just that half step stretch is more than I can handle. In any other setting if it's a choice between singing too loud and not beautiful enough and choking and sounding like I can't sing the note at all I go for option 1. But I seem, as I said, to be much more inhibited now. So what kills me is that people probably think I can't sing that note at all which is not true!!!

Too bad I can't put those beautiful notes to some use. I guess I have a few arias I can use them in but there's no venue.

Actually by the end of the day, when I was supposed to be working on a bibliography and I turned the choir CD on (I never have music on when I'm editing an article but a lot of bibliographies are just rote work) and decided to go for broke and sing with it, the A flat was gorgeous (and probably quiet enough) and the A natural was quiet enough and if not gorgeous, I didn't choke on it. The problem is I can only do something like this if all the stars are in alignment, i.e. I'm well fed, well-rested, haven't been talking too much (my speaking voice, which is down in the basement, is my worst enemy....I developed a voice like that as an adolescent because it sounded both sexy and ladylike), and am not self-conscious, and that's not good enough.

I know a lot of my obsessive frustration about that note (which isn't all bad - as I said in an earlier post all the work I'm doing on this will have a payoff somewhere else if not here) is really about other things. Do you think if someone had asked me to sing "Mon Coeur" in a concert next week and I knew I could strut my stuff in a sexy dress I would be that bent out of shape because I can't sing a high A quietly enough for a choir? Or if I were singing a duet from Aida in a concert that someone else cast? Or if I felt my singing mattered to anyone enough to be steered in some direction not just vocally but situationally? So I think all this agonizing is a stand in for other things. I can't have the things I want but I can sweat and sweat and sweat until I can sing if not a perfect pianissimo High A at least a sweeter more beautiful one than I have heretofore, and this is something that I have control over not someone else.

This sort of thing makes me understand why women become anorexic or addicted to running when their lives are frustrating.

No comments:

Post a Comment