This is something all singers have to learn how to do.
Fortunately, in the almost 30 years that I have been a nonsmoker (I quit for the first time in 1976 when I started being serious about singing the first time, then started again, then quit for good in 1982)I get a serious respiratory "thing", maybe once every five years.
However I do get minor ones, usually not anything that people "catch" - just a bad reaction to bad air, allergens, and so forth.
I spent the weekend doing some heavy cleaning at my partner's house which is full of dust and then did her laundry. When I went to clean out the dryers there was enough lint in them to make a blanket, and I started wheezing like crazy.
When I woke up yesterday I thought I was choking and really thought I would be too hoarse to sing. But I began feeling better as the day wore on (I had some hot tea with lemon and a lot of cough drops) and when I went to try a practice session at 4, I sounded just fine! The only place I noticed a problem was in that pesky lower passagio (for me that means the E and F at the bottom of the staff), where it's too high to sing in chest voice (for me, anyhow) and my voice has very little volume on the best of days.
This morning I felt a little better (I also took some Mucinex) but there was a point when I was talking on the phone that I thought I was choking. So I had more tea with lemon and more cough drops, and gargled with some warm salt water, and called my teacher about my lesson that was scheduled for 4. I told him what was going on and he said by all means I should have a lesson, if I was able to sing yesterday, and that he would take a listen to see if I needed to make some adjustments.
Well, he agreed that I sounded a little breathy in the lower passagio (he said I sounded like I used to in that range, a year or more ago) and that my highest notes sounded like they didn't have "room", but he also said that technically I am handling the high notes much better. He also said that singing sometimes causes the phlegm to break up.
We went through Fenena's aria, because I had not been happy with how that sounded, and he gave me some pointers, mostly about keeping my larynx down, which is mostly what he tells me over and over, and if I can do it, I sound better. What's interesting, though, is that now, even if some of those top notes don't feel great (they still feel "tight") he says they sound a lot better because I am singing them darker. After Fenena we went over "Amour Viens Aider" and I did quite well with the B flat. In fact in both arias I did well with the descending runs, which are tricky. Even though I was having trouble around the passagio I didn't have that feeling I was hitting a "speed bump" around E at the bottom of the staff, which I used to.
Speaking of my teacher himself, he is feeling mostly recovered from his surgery and is able to sing full voice again. He says he might be interested in doing the Requiem in March (I still haven't spoken with the Pastor about it) and asked me to email him a list of which sections I want to do (basically all the solos arias, duets, trios, and quartets that don't need a chorus).
So now I just need to focus on stay in good shape for my recording date on December 6. Once I'm done with that I am going to ask the Pastor about using the church during Lent.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
It Doesn't Have to be January
For me to make "New Year's" resolutions.
One great thing about 12-step programs is that they tell you that you can "start your day" (or your year, or your life) over whenever you want to.
I recently did some cyber housecleaning and some soul-searching and have come up with a few resolutions.
To try to love my small-scale life. As I am 61, I doubt that it will ever be anything else, but small doesn't mean "less than". Nor does having a small-scale life mean that I am a small-scale person or that I have a small scale voice or style of singing or that I don't sometimes need to wallow in over-the-top bad taste in clothes or anything else. In this post the esteemed Cindy Sadler talks about all the unrealistic expectations that people are given through magazines, the media, and corporate culture. This can easily spill over into other areas, such as feeling that my life is worth nothing because I don't travel regularly, or have the type of livelihood that entails doing something and being somewhere different every day.
Recognize the signs of boredom and deal with them constructively. Even though I am much happier and less stressed than I was working in an office, and know that I am blessed to have not only health insurance from a former employer, but also work that is endlessly available that provides a means of earning a living that I can do on my own schedule, sometimes it's wearing to do the same thing over and over, in the same place, for hours on end, particularly for someone like me, who, although not a raging extrovert, enjoys being "out there". So when I need a microbreak, my resolve is to look at theater web sites for places to send my first play, or put the finishing touches on my second play. Or see if I can figure out how to take a picture of myself with my cell phone. It can't be that hard.
Avail myself of every opportunity to go out, preferably wearing something nice, that doesn't cost anything. I don't have to have the sort of "career" that involves endless changes of scene to "diversify" my day a little.
I haven't mentioned anything about singing so far, because I am already doing most of the right things there. I usually have a church solo to look forward to, but I should Always make sure I have something else to look forward to, as well. I have a lot of enterprise. I can at least have a plan for a plan for a concert, concert opera, or something similar. And once that gels (even if it's just an idea not a plan) keep the focus on myself. All that matters is how well I'm singing what I'm singing, not where I "fit" in the universe of singing in Manhattan, the United States, or the world, because I probably don't "fit" anywhere. I don't have to "fit" somewhere to sing well or to sing in front of an audience of my own friends and family, or to make a CD and sell it or give it to people.
All of this is very hard.
One of the publications I work on is about people with terminal cancer. Many of them are encouraged to do "life reviews". I find reading about this very moving. Someone told me yesterday that what I refer to as "wistfulness" is living in the past, but apparently thinking about the past is not uncommon for older people (I didn't think I was that old but maybe I am). It is hard to let go of certain things and say that those things will never be (but I can still have other things which may be just as important). It is probably harder to say that certain things will never be than it is to sing a high B flat in public or buckle down and spend five hours editing manuscripts on my laptop when I'd rather be doing something else.
One great thing about 12-step programs is that they tell you that you can "start your day" (or your year, or your life) over whenever you want to.
I recently did some cyber housecleaning and some soul-searching and have come up with a few resolutions.
To try to love my small-scale life. As I am 61, I doubt that it will ever be anything else, but small doesn't mean "less than". Nor does having a small-scale life mean that I am a small-scale person or that I have a small scale voice or style of singing or that I don't sometimes need to wallow in over-the-top bad taste in clothes or anything else. In this post the esteemed Cindy Sadler talks about all the unrealistic expectations that people are given through magazines, the media, and corporate culture. This can easily spill over into other areas, such as feeling that my life is worth nothing because I don't travel regularly, or have the type of livelihood that entails doing something and being somewhere different every day.
Recognize the signs of boredom and deal with them constructively. Even though I am much happier and less stressed than I was working in an office, and know that I am blessed to have not only health insurance from a former employer, but also work that is endlessly available that provides a means of earning a living that I can do on my own schedule, sometimes it's wearing to do the same thing over and over, in the same place, for hours on end, particularly for someone like me, who, although not a raging extrovert, enjoys being "out there". So when I need a microbreak, my resolve is to look at theater web sites for places to send my first play, or put the finishing touches on my second play. Or see if I can figure out how to take a picture of myself with my cell phone. It can't be that hard.
Avail myself of every opportunity to go out, preferably wearing something nice, that doesn't cost anything. I don't have to have the sort of "career" that involves endless changes of scene to "diversify" my day a little.
I haven't mentioned anything about singing so far, because I am already doing most of the right things there. I usually have a church solo to look forward to, but I should Always make sure I have something else to look forward to, as well. I have a lot of enterprise. I can at least have a plan for a plan for a concert, concert opera, or something similar. And once that gels (even if it's just an idea not a plan) keep the focus on myself. All that matters is how well I'm singing what I'm singing, not where I "fit" in the universe of singing in Manhattan, the United States, or the world, because I probably don't "fit" anywhere. I don't have to "fit" somewhere to sing well or to sing in front of an audience of my own friends and family, or to make a CD and sell it or give it to people.
All of this is very hard.
One of the publications I work on is about people with terminal cancer. Many of them are encouraged to do "life reviews". I find reading about this very moving. Someone told me yesterday that what I refer to as "wistfulness" is living in the past, but apparently thinking about the past is not uncommon for older people (I didn't think I was that old but maybe I am). It is hard to let go of certain things and say that those things will never be (but I can still have other things which may be just as important). It is probably harder to say that certain things will never be than it is to sing a high B flat in public or buckle down and spend five hours editing manuscripts on my laptop when I'd rather be doing something else.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
A Learning Experience
I am home from having had a lovely Thanksgiving meal in a Spanish restaurant with my partner (it is also our 35th anniversary, give or take a few rocky years). In addition to the leftovers from the restaurant, I had made a dish of sweet potatoes and apples (she had served it to me that first Thanksgiving and taught me how to make it) and we bought a pumpkin pie. She is extremely thin and eats very little, and I am a medium size (could lose 5-10 pounds but am not into that right now) and while I certainly eat more than an anorexic model (or than my partner does), in no way can I finish a "serving" of food from a 21st Century restaurant.
So we had enough food to give a mini Thanksgiving meal to my partner's downstairs neighbor who is even older, thinner, sicker, and possibly poorer than my partner, and had not been able to go out.
This made me feel good.
Getting to the topic of this post, over the past few days I had a very bad experience with my pseudonymous blog, which I may be beginning to outgrow.
That is where I began to write about singing and about all the emotional turmoil I was experiencing post-Valentine's Day 2004 (which you can read about here).
It was there that I met "real" singers for the first time. In the past I had only personally known the sort of amateurs who sang with me in "the opera underground" or had read about singers from the Met. I enjoyed my time singing with those amateur groups and if I compared myself to anyone, it was to the women there who were singing the roles I was singing, or to an objective standard of what I thought the music should sound like, or to recordings.
When I began singing again in 2004, pre-blogging, I was living in a bubble. There was The Mentor, who was an exacting task master, often reducing me to tears, but I was not comparing myself to anyone (because the only singers I knew were the one other trained and the 5 or 6 untrained, singers in that small choir), or my life to anyone's except his, of course, and in retrospect I can see that for all the anguish, he was probably one of the 3 or 4 greatest influences on my life, from my singing to my choice of sheets and towels.
Once I began my involvement with the pseudonymous blogging community, I met singers who, while not big stars, were singing all over the country and beyond (some were expats living in Europe). I learned some things about singing both from them and from various online singers' forums, for which I am grateful. I learned about vocal technique, about repertoire, about interpretation. I also heard more than I wanted to know about some of the more "glamorous" aspects of being a singer (as distinct from learning about singing). I don't think that this did much to enhance my life (or improve my singing or inform my choice of church solos or arias) and did a lot toward making me dissatisfied with myself.
As a result of this latter, I seem to have ended up making enemies of all these people and they have "unfriended" me (or I them) from the community in question.
After feeling angry and embarrassed (not by the "unfriendings" but by some of the things that were said to me - or rather written) I decided that all of this was really a blessing in disguise and that it was time to reevaluate my relationship with other singers.
As I am probably only going to be singing either church solos or in various operatic concerts I produce myself, my only relationship with other singers should either be as colleagues (i.e., people who might be interested in participating in some of these things with me or whom I might ask for advice about what to sing - although the first person I should ask about that should be my teacher), or as real mentors, either direct (like my teacher) or indirect, like the renowned teachers and coaches who have blogs with many bits of wisdom about everything from vocal technique to attitude.
Or I need to talk to peers. I so far have found one, a woman who stumbled upon this blog, who started serious classical singing in her late 40s, and who has many of the same daily concerns that I do (mostly about church repertoire).
And of course I am always happy to talk to my colleagues in the choir, some who have vocal training, and some who don't, but who for the most part are supportive and appreciative of what I have to offer.
So what I'm saying is, I think it is a positive thing that I have now been forced to let go of some of the voyeurism that was making me unhappy. It wasn't helping me sing better, or feel better about my life.
ETA: I just deleted that pseudonymous blog, which I had been writing for about six years. I consider that to have been a much needed form of "cleaning house".
So we had enough food to give a mini Thanksgiving meal to my partner's downstairs neighbor who is even older, thinner, sicker, and possibly poorer than my partner, and had not been able to go out.
This made me feel good.
Getting to the topic of this post, over the past few days I had a very bad experience with my pseudonymous blog, which I may be beginning to outgrow.
That is where I began to write about singing and about all the emotional turmoil I was experiencing post-Valentine's Day 2004 (which you can read about here).
It was there that I met "real" singers for the first time. In the past I had only personally known the sort of amateurs who sang with me in "the opera underground" or had read about singers from the Met. I enjoyed my time singing with those amateur groups and if I compared myself to anyone, it was to the women there who were singing the roles I was singing, or to an objective standard of what I thought the music should sound like, or to recordings.
When I began singing again in 2004, pre-blogging, I was living in a bubble. There was The Mentor, who was an exacting task master, often reducing me to tears, but I was not comparing myself to anyone (because the only singers I knew were the one other trained and the 5 or 6 untrained, singers in that small choir), or my life to anyone's except his, of course, and in retrospect I can see that for all the anguish, he was probably one of the 3 or 4 greatest influences on my life, from my singing to my choice of sheets and towels.
Once I began my involvement with the pseudonymous blogging community, I met singers who, while not big stars, were singing all over the country and beyond (some were expats living in Europe). I learned some things about singing both from them and from various online singers' forums, for which I am grateful. I learned about vocal technique, about repertoire, about interpretation. I also heard more than I wanted to know about some of the more "glamorous" aspects of being a singer (as distinct from learning about singing). I don't think that this did much to enhance my life (or improve my singing or inform my choice of church solos or arias) and did a lot toward making me dissatisfied with myself.
As a result of this latter, I seem to have ended up making enemies of all these people and they have "unfriended" me (or I them) from the community in question.
After feeling angry and embarrassed (not by the "unfriendings" but by some of the things that were said to me - or rather written) I decided that all of this was really a blessing in disguise and that it was time to reevaluate my relationship with other singers.
As I am probably only going to be singing either church solos or in various operatic concerts I produce myself, my only relationship with other singers should either be as colleagues (i.e., people who might be interested in participating in some of these things with me or whom I might ask for advice about what to sing - although the first person I should ask about that should be my teacher), or as real mentors, either direct (like my teacher) or indirect, like the renowned teachers and coaches who have blogs with many bits of wisdom about everything from vocal technique to attitude.
Or I need to talk to peers. I so far have found one, a woman who stumbled upon this blog, who started serious classical singing in her late 40s, and who has many of the same daily concerns that I do (mostly about church repertoire).
And of course I am always happy to talk to my colleagues in the choir, some who have vocal training, and some who don't, but who for the most part are supportive and appreciative of what I have to offer.
So what I'm saying is, I think it is a positive thing that I have now been forced to let go of some of the voyeurism that was making me unhappy. It wasn't helping me sing better, or feel better about my life.
ETA: I just deleted that pseudonymous blog, which I had been writing for about six years. I consider that to have been a much needed form of "cleaning house".
Monday, November 21, 2011
Second Rehearsal for Recording
Today I had my second rehearsal for the recording, courtesy of my "Angel".
Some things went well, some not.
So here's the recap.
Sappho's "O Ma Lyre": Voice worked well, but boy, am I off with some of the notes. There's a first and a second verse and there are some small differences, particularly in one place, so I need to drill that. Also I am not counting strict time. I took a lot of liberties with the rhythm when I sang this in the concert in 2009 and probably if I'd had a rigorous coach to go over it with, that would have been nipped in the bud. The good news is the coda with the B flat went really well. So I went through the verses again and tried to clean some of these things up (didn't sing the coda more than once - no need),
Acerba Volutta: Didn't sing it what I would call my "personal best" - the high A at the end was a little tight, but I think it was in that new, dark place and I did a nice portamento down from it. My lower middle register sounded weak (nothing new) and no, I don't barrel into chest voice on that F natural on "l'attesa". (Neither does Dolora, but her voice is bigger in that range than mine is.) But I was spot on with all the entrances and the coach said I had that aria "set".
Fenena's aria: This was the biggest (unpleasant) surprise. It's just a two-pager (and much nicer than "Va" IMHO, which has been done to death by conservatory students) and looks deceptively easy. There's a run at the end going up to a high A and coming down almost two octaves, but unlike the run in Dalila's "Amour Viens Aider" this has to sound "pretty". I choked on the A on the first go around and did a "do over" which sounded great, but I need to get it right in context. I think I need to apply that low larynx position that I've been using so successfully on other things, with this. I haven't sung it at a lesson in several years (must bring it to the next one). The coach had never heard it and said she really liked it and thought it was "elegant".
Mon Coeur: Lovely as always. When I was done singing it, the coach said "Brava". She agrees that I don't need to belittle myself because I don't sing the B flat at the end. I'm fine with the one in "Amour" because that's a big battle cry, but I can't sing it softly and sweetly and if I bellow it it will ruin the mood, which is so so hot!
After we ran through those pieces we did a little work on the Requiem. It is coming along. I thought I sounded good in the Salva me and the Recordare. I'm fine with middle C and B, which I can sing in chest voice. It's on Es and Fs at the bottom of the staff where I sound wimpy.
So the first recording session is supposed to be December 6. I am so excited. And of course the great thing about recording is that if I don't like something I can do it over and splice it in.
Some things went well, some not.
So here's the recap.
Sappho's "O Ma Lyre": Voice worked well, but boy, am I off with some of the notes. There's a first and a second verse and there are some small differences, particularly in one place, so I need to drill that. Also I am not counting strict time. I took a lot of liberties with the rhythm when I sang this in the concert in 2009 and probably if I'd had a rigorous coach to go over it with, that would have been nipped in the bud. The good news is the coda with the B flat went really well. So I went through the verses again and tried to clean some of these things up (didn't sing the coda more than once - no need),
Acerba Volutta: Didn't sing it what I would call my "personal best" - the high A at the end was a little tight, but I think it was in that new, dark place and I did a nice portamento down from it. My lower middle register sounded weak (nothing new) and no, I don't barrel into chest voice on that F natural on "l'attesa". (Neither does Dolora, but her voice is bigger in that range than mine is.) But I was spot on with all the entrances and the coach said I had that aria "set".
Fenena's aria: This was the biggest (unpleasant) surprise. It's just a two-pager (and much nicer than "Va" IMHO, which has been done to death by conservatory students) and looks deceptively easy. There's a run at the end going up to a high A and coming down almost two octaves, but unlike the run in Dalila's "Amour Viens Aider" this has to sound "pretty". I choked on the A on the first go around and did a "do over" which sounded great, but I need to get it right in context. I think I need to apply that low larynx position that I've been using so successfully on other things, with this. I haven't sung it at a lesson in several years (must bring it to the next one). The coach had never heard it and said she really liked it and thought it was "elegant".
Mon Coeur: Lovely as always. When I was done singing it, the coach said "Brava". She agrees that I don't need to belittle myself because I don't sing the B flat at the end. I'm fine with the one in "Amour" because that's a big battle cry, but I can't sing it softly and sweetly and if I bellow it it will ruin the mood, which is so so hot!
After we ran through those pieces we did a little work on the Requiem. It is coming along. I thought I sounded good in the Salva me and the Recordare. I'm fine with middle C and B, which I can sing in chest voice. It's on Es and Fs at the bottom of the staff where I sound wimpy.
So the first recording session is supposed to be December 6. I am so excited. And of course the great thing about recording is that if I don't like something I can do it over and splice it in.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Verdi Requiem Getting Acquainted Update
Yesterday I spent 12 hours backing up my computer (had to start from scratch as I have a new hard drive). Most of it was while I was asleep, so I didn't "waste" too much time, also for some of the time I was having my hair done.
In any event, as I couldn't work for those hours, I sang through the first three sections of the Requiem. There will be seven all told that I need to learn:
Kyrie
Quid sum, miser
Recordare
Lacrymosa
Domine Jesu
Agnus Dei
and the magnificent
.
Lux Aeterna
(I already know Liber Scriptus).
The Kyrie is coming along. There are still some places where I need to pound the keyboard to get my note, but that will eventually pass. One or two more runthroughs and I will have it.
Quid sum, Miser is a little easier, for some reason, although I have not attempted it without the playing the keyboard while I'm singing.
Recordare is the easiest, probably because I have my own melody. I find if I'm singing something other than the top line (e.g., an alto part in choir) I do best if it's something with its own melody, not a harmony part. For example I always learn the alto parts in the Bach cantatas very quickly. This Recordare is a duet and although the tessitura is a bit low for me, it is very singable and I found myself able to sing with the recording without having to play my notes, except at the end when the soprano is on a high B flat and I am on a middle C, which is hard to hear.
But it is coming along. I want to be able to sing it note perfect with the book by January and then I will feel comfortable about trying to pull something together if I can get the church space without paying for it.
Otherwise I will have this in my repertoire. I need to have a series of big oratorio pieces in my repertoire because I have completely aged out of all things opera unless I produce whatever it is myself.
I also am feeling good that I have my big hair back. If I could figure out how to photograph myself I would, but I just tried, looking in the mirror with the cell phone camera, and I can't.
Again, I think some of my wistfulness goes back to what I call "Wizard of Oz-ishness" - I know I am very attractive for a woman my age (and I have a great wardrobe) but I don't move in circles where people take pictures of me, I don't take them of myself (I would if I knew how), and basically no one in my immediate environs really cares enough about how I look, what I'm wearing, blah blah blah to want to memorialize it in any way. If they take pictures, it's of scenery, or of people as incidental to scenery. I wonder if this is
A. an artifact of my not being a "professional" performer with costumes to show off (church singers aren't supposed to "show off" full stop)
B. generational (people over 50 or over 60 just don't constantly take pictures unless they're on vacation to an interesting place)
C. that I don't know enough shallow people who are interested in how I look (LOL!)
In any event, as I couldn't work for those hours, I sang through the first three sections of the Requiem. There will be seven all told that I need to learn:
Kyrie
Quid sum, miser
Recordare
Lacrymosa
Domine Jesu
Agnus Dei
and the magnificent
.
Lux Aeterna
(I already know Liber Scriptus).
The Kyrie is coming along. There are still some places where I need to pound the keyboard to get my note, but that will eventually pass. One or two more runthroughs and I will have it.
Quid sum, Miser is a little easier, for some reason, although I have not attempted it without the playing the keyboard while I'm singing.
Recordare is the easiest, probably because I have my own melody. I find if I'm singing something other than the top line (e.g., an alto part in choir) I do best if it's something with its own melody, not a harmony part. For example I always learn the alto parts in the Bach cantatas very quickly. This Recordare is a duet and although the tessitura is a bit low for me, it is very singable and I found myself able to sing with the recording without having to play my notes, except at the end when the soprano is on a high B flat and I am on a middle C, which is hard to hear.
But it is coming along. I want to be able to sing it note perfect with the book by January and then I will feel comfortable about trying to pull something together if I can get the church space without paying for it.
Otherwise I will have this in my repertoire. I need to have a series of big oratorio pieces in my repertoire because I have completely aged out of all things opera unless I produce whatever it is myself.
I also am feeling good that I have my big hair back. If I could figure out how to photograph myself I would, but I just tried, looking in the mirror with the cell phone camera, and I can't.
Again, I think some of my wistfulness goes back to what I call "Wizard of Oz-ishness" - I know I am very attractive for a woman my age (and I have a great wardrobe) but I don't move in circles where people take pictures of me, I don't take them of myself (I would if I knew how), and basically no one in my immediate environs really cares enough about how I look, what I'm wearing, blah blah blah to want to memorialize it in any way. If they take pictures, it's of scenery, or of people as incidental to scenery. I wonder if this is
A. an artifact of my not being a "professional" performer with costumes to show off (church singers aren't supposed to "show off" full stop)
B. generational (people over 50 or over 60 just don't constantly take pictures unless they're on vacation to an interesting place)
C. that I don't know enough shallow people who are interested in how I look (LOL!)
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Singing Better - But I Wanna Play Dress Up!
Today at my voice lesson I went through "Acerba Volutta" and Sappho's "O Ma Lyre". My teacher said they sound much better than several years ago. In fact he said that "Acerba Volutta" sounds the way that type of music - Italian verismo - is supposed to sound. My upper register seems to be much freer (although it could be freer still) but most importantly, I have a whole voice that sounds like a real Italian mezzo. My teacher says, yes, this is the repertoire I should be singing.
So why do the "envies" constantly creep up on me?
There is something that I want. A lot of it has to do with singing - singing is the core of it, but it's more.
When I read Facebook and other postings from "real" singers, what is it they are doing that I am so envious of? Well - dressing up for one.
I grew up in an environment that disapproved of dressing up. My mother used to quote Thoreau - "Distrust any endeavor that requires new clothes". O how different from my ultra-feminine friends with their ultra-feminine mothers who wanted to take them shopping and admire them in this, that, or the other. In fact, if you look at the photo that my mother wanted for her obituary
you will see that she has, in essence, no hair (it is scraped back in a knot), no cosmetics, and a face that is, at least to me, rather genderless.
When she died and I went through her things, I could see that she had not bought any new clothes (except the odd turtleneck and some sneakers) in probably three decades, and I have inherited no jewelry other than some beads and some politically-correct ethnic horrors that I gave away.
When I was a child and an adolescent I was always jonesing to dress up which she had no understanding of.
As an adult, when I ended up with a partner who was female, I found that I was marrying an ideology, not just a person, and was surrounded by hordes of women who chanted disapproval of me as I wistfully played with my cosmetics (they were all I had left to adorn myself with - I owned no skirts, dresses,or women's shoes).
Decades later, I have a closet full of gowns and long skirts (and a few other oddities, like a fringed black lycra skirt and another tight black skirt with suggestive zippers that can be zipped - or not) but noplace to wear them.
In any event, these "real" singers spend their days purchasing gowns for concerts (even if all they're singing is an alto part in an oratorio with minimal exposure) and being stuffed into period costumes with cleavage (even the "frump" roles get to show cleavage, so it seems). Then they post the photos on Facebook and everyone oohs and ahs.
When I left my last full time job I got a "severance package" which included, in addition to the crown jewel of health insurance for life until Medicare, a year of career counseling. The outfit I went to was quite good and they actually specialized in finding second careers for people over 50. So I thought I could at least segue into a glamorous career, if not singing, maybe selling toothpaste (I am being partly facetious here) in a different city every month (or at least in a different office every month) with a drop dead wardrobe as a work requirement. On that score, though, I think this career counseling outfit overestimated its power. What I ended up with was tools to find work I could do at home in my pajamas, which has left me more time for singing, more sleep, the freedom to fulfill my eldercare responsibilities without having to beg and beseech time off like a child asking "Mommy may I?" but it hardly fulfills my need to be glamorous. And needless to say, on a small budget, even if I have the clothes, I am not about to go anywhere where I could wear them, as such places are expensive to frequent and what excuse would I have to be doing so in any event?
Now make no mistake. Even if I'm going grocery shopping I have on stage makeup and when my big hair starts to wilt (which it certainly has by now) I call in my Irish hairdresser to perm it in smelly rollers for two hours (she is coming Thursday). And usually if I go into a store that sells cosmetics someone asks me if I'm an actress, because of course I wouldn't be caught dead in anything that looks "natural" even if it's only to wear to the grocery store.
So why do the "envies" constantly creep up on me?
There is something that I want. A lot of it has to do with singing - singing is the core of it, but it's more.
When I read Facebook and other postings from "real" singers, what is it they are doing that I am so envious of? Well - dressing up for one.
I grew up in an environment that disapproved of dressing up. My mother used to quote Thoreau - "Distrust any endeavor that requires new clothes". O how different from my ultra-feminine friends with their ultra-feminine mothers who wanted to take them shopping and admire them in this, that, or the other. In fact, if you look at the photo that my mother wanted for her obituary
you will see that she has, in essence, no hair (it is scraped back in a knot), no cosmetics, and a face that is, at least to me, rather genderless.
When she died and I went through her things, I could see that she had not bought any new clothes (except the odd turtleneck and some sneakers) in probably three decades, and I have inherited no jewelry other than some beads and some politically-correct ethnic horrors that I gave away.
When I was a child and an adolescent I was always jonesing to dress up which she had no understanding of.
As an adult, when I ended up with a partner who was female, I found that I was marrying an ideology, not just a person, and was surrounded by hordes of women who chanted disapproval of me as I wistfully played with my cosmetics (they were all I had left to adorn myself with - I owned no skirts, dresses,or women's shoes).
Decades later, I have a closet full of gowns and long skirts (and a few other oddities, like a fringed black lycra skirt and another tight black skirt with suggestive zippers that can be zipped - or not) but noplace to wear them.
In any event, these "real" singers spend their days purchasing gowns for concerts (even if all they're singing is an alto part in an oratorio with minimal exposure) and being stuffed into period costumes with cleavage (even the "frump" roles get to show cleavage, so it seems). Then they post the photos on Facebook and everyone oohs and ahs.
When I left my last full time job I got a "severance package" which included, in addition to the crown jewel of health insurance for life until Medicare, a year of career counseling. The outfit I went to was quite good and they actually specialized in finding second careers for people over 50. So I thought I could at least segue into a glamorous career, if not singing, maybe selling toothpaste (I am being partly facetious here) in a different city every month (or at least in a different office every month) with a drop dead wardrobe as a work requirement. On that score, though, I think this career counseling outfit overestimated its power. What I ended up with was tools to find work I could do at home in my pajamas, which has left me more time for singing, more sleep, the freedom to fulfill my eldercare responsibilities without having to beg and beseech time off like a child asking "Mommy may I?" but it hardly fulfills my need to be glamorous. And needless to say, on a small budget, even if I have the clothes, I am not about to go anywhere where I could wear them, as such places are expensive to frequent and what excuse would I have to be doing so in any event?
Now make no mistake. Even if I'm going grocery shopping I have on stage makeup and when my big hair starts to wilt (which it certainly has by now) I call in my Irish hairdresser to perm it in smelly rollers for two hours (she is coming Thursday). And usually if I go into a store that sells cosmetics someone asks me if I'm an actress, because of course I wouldn't be caught dead in anything that looks "natural" even if it's only to wear to the grocery store.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Optimistic Again
I had quite a week! My computer's hard drive died and I took it to the repair shop (I would recommend going to "The Geek Squad" at Best Buy - there's one three blocks away from me - over spending hours on the phone with someone in the Philippines or India working for Dell) so I had two days when I was unable to work and last night had to stay up until 2 am finishing a project.
So I used the time to sing!
I had had an appointment anyhow with the accompanist to rehearse what I'm putting on the CD, so I kept it.
She hadn't heard me sing in several years and said how solid and secure my upper register sounds. I sang "Amour Viens Aider" with the B flat in the run, "O Mio Fernando" from Favorita, "Stella del Marinar" from Gioconda and "Liber Scriptus" from the Verdi Requiem. Afterwards we still had some time so I sightread through the Kyrie, Quid Sum Miser, Recordare from the Requiem. I can see that musically I will have my work cut out here. There is nothing that is difficult to sing (true, I haven't gotten to "Lux Aeterna" yet!) but it will be a bear to learn. But I can learn it. I am not a musician (meaning I don't read key signatures or understand chord structure), but I am an auditory whiz and if I listen to the recording and pound my line on the little keyboard it will stick in my head forever. And I am determined to sing this because it is a great piece, I love it, and it is something to have in my pocket.
I used one of the days I wasn't working to get further with the sections I had sung through with the pianist and I see they are coming along. This is something that will get done if I put in some time on in several days a week (I want to have it ready by January). And a lot of the work doesn't involve singing, just saying the words out loud in time, and pounding on the keyboard when I'm playing the recording.
Overall, I am singing much better even than I did at the concert. Going back to simpler things (and what isn't simpler than "Condotta"?) they sound very different. During one of my practice sessions I went through "Acerba Volutta" (probably my all-time favorite aria to sing) and the Sappho aria with the B flat at the end.
On the choral front, I am doing very well with the pianissimo high A flat. We are singing the piece Sunday and I think I will be one of about four sopranos. The star coloratura will not be there. I know what to do, so I just need to do it. The rest of the soprano part is in a low tessitura so that is definitely the part I need to be singing.
The not so good news is that by the end of last Wednesday's choir practice although my voice was still surprisingly fresh, my brain sort of imploded and I came in in the wrong place in another piece we're doing (because I had the book open to the wrong page).
Lastly, here is a photo from our concert!!
So I used the time to sing!
I had had an appointment anyhow with the accompanist to rehearse what I'm putting on the CD, so I kept it.
She hadn't heard me sing in several years and said how solid and secure my upper register sounds. I sang "Amour Viens Aider" with the B flat in the run, "O Mio Fernando" from Favorita, "Stella del Marinar" from Gioconda and "Liber Scriptus" from the Verdi Requiem. Afterwards we still had some time so I sightread through the Kyrie, Quid Sum Miser, Recordare from the Requiem. I can see that musically I will have my work cut out here. There is nothing that is difficult to sing (true, I haven't gotten to "Lux Aeterna" yet!) but it will be a bear to learn. But I can learn it. I am not a musician (meaning I don't read key signatures or understand chord structure), but I am an auditory whiz and if I listen to the recording and pound my line on the little keyboard it will stick in my head forever. And I am determined to sing this because it is a great piece, I love it, and it is something to have in my pocket.
I used one of the days I wasn't working to get further with the sections I had sung through with the pianist and I see they are coming along. This is something that will get done if I put in some time on in several days a week (I want to have it ready by January). And a lot of the work doesn't involve singing, just saying the words out loud in time, and pounding on the keyboard when I'm playing the recording.
Overall, I am singing much better even than I did at the concert. Going back to simpler things (and what isn't simpler than "Condotta"?) they sound very different. During one of my practice sessions I went through "Acerba Volutta" (probably my all-time favorite aria to sing) and the Sappho aria with the B flat at the end.
On the choral front, I am doing very well with the pianissimo high A flat. We are singing the piece Sunday and I think I will be one of about four sopranos. The star coloratura will not be there. I know what to do, so I just need to do it. The rest of the soprano part is in a low tessitura so that is definitely the part I need to be singing.
The not so good news is that by the end of last Wednesday's choir practice although my voice was still surprisingly fresh, my brain sort of imploded and I came in in the wrong place in another piece we're doing (because I had the book open to the wrong page).
Lastly, here is a photo from our concert!!
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
A Wise Man Speaks
Today I had a voice lesson after not having had one for about three weeks. My lesson is always an hour of singing and a half hour of talking about what's going on with me in my life as a singer.
My teacher pried out of me all the negative emotions I had been feeling about the issue of these meetups, etc. and he told me a number of things that were either confidence-boosting or illuminating in some way.
First, we had our last (I think) rehash of the concert. He said overall I did very well, despite a few shrill notes. That both of the people I sang with would be happy to sing with me again, and that they would not have felt that if I hadn't done a decent job. He said I sang much better than I had at the two big performances he had heard: Samson et Dalila and the concert the year before at the other Lutheran church.
Then he said a few things about the issue of the meetups and my not connecting with anyone.
First, he said that "in the world" (he said his wife had mentioned this) older women are "invisible". Yes, I have been aware of that for a long time which is something I have tried to explain to some younger female friends, most notably (OK readers, don't get into a feminist frenzy) that "sexual harrassment" is mainly a younger woman's issue. If you're over 40, even if you've got a body to die for, nobody gives a flying fig.
Then he also said that in the world of performing, older men are also invisible.
He said that many people at these things may think that the vocal flaws that I still have are a result of age-related decline. Now both he and I know that the opposite is true - they are there because I haven't fine-tuned my instrument enough yet. But that if people think I'm going "downhill" because I'm older this will scare them.
He also said (I thought this was a bit harsh) that if people are going to these sorts of things they are not happy with where they are, or they would be rehearsing for real gigs, not singing at meetups. (That was what I had thought originally, which is why I was very surprised at the level of most of the people there. It also bears out what I had written about earlier that there are hordes of singers as good as most of the pros with noplace to sing.)
In any event, he said I should focus on whatever I'm planning next,not singing at these groups if doing that wasn't helping me develop more confidence.
I think what I want to do (and I am still going to post a notice of some sort), rather than starting my own meetup or looking for a large group of people more demographically like me, simply to try to find even one older singer who was a late starter, who will go to one of the existing meetups with me. So then as I said to someone we can be each other's cheering section and if we don't "matter" to anyone else who's there, we will matter to each other and will be less nervous.
And I shouldn't forget to add on the singing front, that at my lesson I ran through two arias I hadn't sung in over a year: Dalila's "Amour Viens Aider" and "O Mio Fernando" from La Favorita and my teacher said I sounded like a completely different person from last year.
My teacher pried out of me all the negative emotions I had been feeling about the issue of these meetups, etc. and he told me a number of things that were either confidence-boosting or illuminating in some way.
First, we had our last (I think) rehash of the concert. He said overall I did very well, despite a few shrill notes. That both of the people I sang with would be happy to sing with me again, and that they would not have felt that if I hadn't done a decent job. He said I sang much better than I had at the two big performances he had heard: Samson et Dalila and the concert the year before at the other Lutheran church.
Then he said a few things about the issue of the meetups and my not connecting with anyone.
First, he said that "in the world" (he said his wife had mentioned this) older women are "invisible". Yes, I have been aware of that for a long time which is something I have tried to explain to some younger female friends, most notably (OK readers, don't get into a feminist frenzy) that "sexual harrassment" is mainly a younger woman's issue. If you're over 40, even if you've got a body to die for, nobody gives a flying fig.
Then he also said that in the world of performing, older men are also invisible.
He said that many people at these things may think that the vocal flaws that I still have are a result of age-related decline. Now both he and I know that the opposite is true - they are there because I haven't fine-tuned my instrument enough yet. But that if people think I'm going "downhill" because I'm older this will scare them.
He also said (I thought this was a bit harsh) that if people are going to these sorts of things they are not happy with where they are, or they would be rehearsing for real gigs, not singing at meetups. (That was what I had thought originally, which is why I was very surprised at the level of most of the people there. It also bears out what I had written about earlier that there are hordes of singers as good as most of the pros with noplace to sing.)
In any event, he said I should focus on whatever I'm planning next,not singing at these groups if doing that wasn't helping me develop more confidence.
I think what I want to do (and I am still going to post a notice of some sort), rather than starting my own meetup or looking for a large group of people more demographically like me, simply to try to find even one older singer who was a late starter, who will go to one of the existing meetups with me. So then as I said to someone we can be each other's cheering section and if we don't "matter" to anyone else who's there, we will matter to each other and will be less nervous.
And I shouldn't forget to add on the singing front, that at my lesson I ran through two arias I hadn't sung in over a year: Dalila's "Amour Viens Aider" and "O Mio Fernando" from La Favorita and my teacher said I sounded like a completely different person from last year.
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