Thursday, March 29, 2012

Are You Who You Say You Are?

This blog post is prompted by a conversation that got started on Facebook about this woman and her mangled singing of "Una Voce Poco Fa". The sound clip here is embedded in a rather snarky attack on her. I, personally, had never heard of her, but then I am a total nerd who only watches PBS and the occasional cable channel. I agree that her singing is quite mediocre (and would not get her in the door of one of New York's no pay opera companies) and a lot of what she says is quite absurd (that opera singers all look like fat Valkyries) but why all this malice? What particularly strikes me is that a lot of it revolves around her having the audacity to call herself an "opera singer".

This post (the singing, the aria choice, the snarky comments made by the writer) really hit a nerve with me. First of all it's ironic that as mass media is dumbing down (this woman actually makes a lot of money mangling opera, apparently), amateur groups have raised the bar such that people with vocal flaws, who can slog through their favorite operatic repertoire with pleasure, are totally shut out. So this seems quite schizy. These are the types of singers one used to hear at those groups when I sang there in the 1970s, albeit with different types of vocal issues (you didn't hear anyone singing in a pop idiom, but there were lots of breathy light sopranos, muddy mezzos, etc.)

I sang "Una Voce Poco Fa" at an audition 35 years ago, no better than this, although differently - my coloratura was always very clean, but I barely made it up to the high B and camouflaged this by jumping down two octaves and hanging onto the low B for dear life. This mediocre performance landed me the role of Giovanna Seymour in an amateur production of Anna Bolena, something that could never happen today.

And it is singers like this that I expected to hear at all those meetups I went to, albeit ones who were working on technique with teachers, not people who had somehow managed to become media stars.

As for the other core issue addressed here, it is: can you call yourself an opera singer if you are not strictly speaking, singing operas?

This hits a nerve because I once had a long discussion with my therapist about how my image of myself as an opera singer had been spoiled by all the contact I have had in recent years (mostly online) with working (for pay or not for pay) singers. In the years since I was "discovered" by The Mentor, I have sung one concert version of Samson et Dalila with no chorus and a piano, three concerts of operatic scenes, the odd aria or two at charity events or nursing homes, and numerous church solos. In that same time period I have probably spent between 30 and 50 hours each week working (as an editor or indexer, or, several years ago, as a manager of same), and 14 hours a week on eldercare.

The message I got from my therapist is I can be who I say I am. This doesn't mean I should tell lies, or have an unrealistic assessment of my gifts or abilities, but that I am entitled to adopt the identity that fits with those moments when I feel most fully alive.

One of the reasons I use Facebook (and write this blog) is to keep it real. Really, with a few exceptions, no one except my voice teacher, choir director, and people at the church take me seriously as a singer or want to engage with me re: that part of my identity. This is true of singers and nonsingers. But I can choose what to put on Facebook. I can choose to write about my practice sessions, lessons, and minor gigs (singing a church solo) and not about the work I do for pay, because I spend enough hours doing that and thinking about it and when it's done it's done and it doesn't define me.

Some of the comments on Facebook about this woman entailed the fact that yes, she deserves kudos for having managed to make the most (and far more than anyone would have dreamed possible) of what she has.

So where do I start.....?

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Culture and Chatter - And Why Does This All Feel Like Junior High?

This may be one of the most honest things I have ever written; it is taking all the angst I have felt not about singing but about my place in the universe of singing, to a new level. Which is why I feel compelled to write this even though I need to practice (which I will do later!)

I was asking myself why is it that every time I get too deeply involved in conversations on the Forum I start to feel depressed. Ditto if I respond too much to things that "real" singers post on Facebook.

I think the most devastating thing that happened to me when I began to emerge from my cocoon with The Mentor and stick my toe into the big wide world of singing wasn't disappointment that I didn't sound like a polished professional yesterday, or that I didn't get anywhere at auditions, but that I really was a nobody. As I said, if you were to put all the people singing opera in New York in a room, and give them a grade, I would end up in around the 15th or the 20th percentile. (One of the very first things I did when I started singing again was enter a competition, one of the few that had no age limit. We were given grades, based on a perfect score of 100, and mine was around 55. Of course I have no idea what other people's scores were, but still...I should add, though, that about four years later when I went to an audition that provided feedback, the only negative feedback I got was that I was too histrionic and too old.)

So the point is, in a city like this one, no one is interested in someone in the 15th or the 20th percentile. I mean the church where I sing for no money is happy to have me there - I do sound as good as many paid church soloists and I don't make a fuss about getting paid. All I want is regular solo opportunities and respect. (And as that church seems to be the only place, really, that I have gotten the latter, it's that that keeps me there, at least as much as the former.)

But the thing that was even more devastating, was realizing that there's a whole culture to do with singing regularly, whether you're a striving mid-level professional or a good amateur with a manager, that I am not a part of. A culture implies shared stories, mutual acquaintances, similar experiences, and a feeling of belonging.

I mean the Forum is exactly that: a Forum. There are people who post there who are mid-level professionals and people who post there who are 40 and taking their first voice lessons since college. But there is a pecking order and it has been made clear to me that I am at the bottom of it. It's fine if I have a question. People have been truly helpful, for which I am grateful. But it is also made clear to me in subtle ways that I am not part of the "in" crowd and that unless I am there as a supplicant, I should keep my mouth shut. Stupidly, I think that if I share experiences of my own, tiny scraps of things that occur to me in the microscopic nooks and crannies of my life that involve singing in public, past and present, that someone will be interested, and will make me feel included. But of course they won't. It's similar to being in Junior High and yearning after the popular girls who never invite me to their table or include me in their gossip, because, quite frankly, I haven't quite had the sophisticated life experiences that they have had, so in their world I have nothing to say.

The same thing happened with that pseudonymous blog. I felt like I had my nose pressed against the windowpane, looking into a glamorous world where people bought gowns regularly, traveled and stayed in hotels, had on-the-job flirtations, and, of course, worked very hard on perfecting their art, needless to say.

This may be a non sequitur, but I was thinking the other day about purging my closet - I probably own enough clothes for four people. So I was thinking I should definitely get rid of a lot of the office attire that I will never wear again (the nicest things I will keep to wear to the opera or an occasional party) but that I will never never never get rid of the handful of gowns that I bought at Housing Works, even though I have worn two of them once, and have two that I have never worn at all. I suppose I want someone to know that even the fact that I bought those gowns says something about me. I am the woman who bought those gowns, even if all I do 95% of the time is sit at a laptop editing manuscripts or sing in a choir robe.

A bitter lesson that I have learned is that I probably am better off staying away from this "community" of singers in which I have no place. I got some suggestions about how to put on an opera or concert so I should just cut my losses and disappear again.

But the problem that remains that I have no community. Which is what I meant when I made that post about a peer group. I wasn't just asking about how to find people to sing in a concert I want to produce, I was asking about how to find a group of people with whom I can find common ground, people (not young vocal performance students, but people closer to my age) who are excited about singing, who want to deconstruct their last practice session or strategize about how to orchestrate an opportunity to be "diva for an afternoon" without feeling pushed out by all the younger more polished people. People who will look at me and see the woman in the gown who sang "O Ma Lyre Immortelle" not the woman in jeans who pounds a laptop and cleans up semicolons.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Unfortunate Synonyms

Yesterday I was all excited hearing about this group which I mistakenly thought would be another venue for singing opera scenes for elderly shut-ins, which I have done before.

They apparently want "young musical theater professionals" (boldface mine).

As this features a genre of singing that is not my forte (I can throw a musical theater number in at the end of a set of arias at one of these events, but I still sound like I am singing opera) I am not going to pursue this but I am deeply offended by the use of the word "young".

Yes, in this age of tv and movies I can understand a director wanting someone who looks young playing a young character. This is just a fact of life, similar to a director not wanting an overweight woman playing Violetta or Mimi.

What I take offense at is that people seem to equate "new, eager, fresh, undiscovered, not quite 'there' yet, but growing and improving every day" with young.

The world is full of people who are not young, who are discovering or re-discovering something for the first time, as was written about in this article who are as fresh, new, and excited as anyone half or one third their age.

What's so strange, is that the one area in which the media has it right is that 60 is the new 40 and so on down the line (I mean everyone agrees now that 30 is the new 21 and has for years). So why haven't people looking for talent, even in the dull, drab corporate workplace, caught onto this?

And of course this again brought home a longing that I have that is never fulfilled: seeing or reading somewhere that there's a group out there looking for someone like me. Someone older in years, starting fresh (well, ok, if I started now 8 years ago it's not quite fresh) who is full of enthusiasm, who can "model" the fact that older people can still be full of energy enthusiasm, and, not only talent, but the self-discipline to hone that talent despite fighting against great odds?

I mean, OK, I am not going to waste time being bitterly disappointed over this, it would just be nice if I didn't have to create every opportunity for myself.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

An Interesting Lesson

One thing I really like about my voice teacher is that he is very eclectic. This is probably because as he's not a "name" teacher and has no academic credentials, he just goes with the flow of what a student needs at the time.

I've been studying with him since December of 2005 now, which is over 6 years (in addition to my studies with him during the late 70s). And yesterday he had a new brainstorm.

He said some of the "stiffness" that keeps my upper voice from spinning has to do with my not being able to move my tongue without moving my jaw. So he has started me on exercises where I sing scales and arpeggios on "la" (or rather "law" - "la" gets spread) and after opening my mouth once, I try to keep my mouth open and only move my tongue, not my jaw. I did this yesterday up to a B flat. I found it tiring (not as in getting hoarse but as in exercising new muscles). So I will do these exercises at home. I don't have much vocally difficult music to work on right now. I have to learn all of the mezzo solo parts to the Verdi Requiem but except for "Liber Scriptus" and "Lux Aeterna" there is nothing vocally difficult. The difficulty is in learning it. Right now I also have to sing the soprano line in the Introit to the St. Matthew Passion into my voice. It has a nice line, so that should not be difficult. I also have the soprano part in a solo quartet in a piece we're doing called "Confitemini Domino" by Urmas Sisask. It is a lovely piece. It sounds like early music but actually it was written in 1988.

Something that surprised me was reading in an article in Classical Singer that "emerging pro" types, just out of school, are encouraged to take "one lesson and two coachings" a month, even if they're broke. What surprised me was that it wasn't the other way around. I absolutely need a lesson every two weeks. Even if I only count my years of study beginning in March of 2004 (shortly after that fateful Valentine's Day, that's 8 years. So I suppose I have studied longer now than an "emerging pro" who just got out of school. As for coachings, I rarely work with a pianist. I usually learn 90% of my music with recordings (I don't mean I try to imitate other singers) but if I look at a score and listen at the same time, I will have it in my ear, and if I'm singing with other people I sing "against" the recording, which serves the same purpose as working with a pianist and it's free.

I do like working with a pianist if I am going to sing something with other people. With the Samson et Dalila concert we rehearsed every other week and at some point we will need to do this with the Requiem as well. Well, if we start in September I will have Social Security in addition to my earnings.

I also talked to my teacher about repertoire. He thought it was a good idea to focus on older characters, but not necessarily "character parts". He thinks I should go back to Azucena and work on the entire role. The highest note I would have to sing is two B flats which I think I can manage. And he wants me to work on the Amneris/Radames duet from Aida. (Of course she's not an older character, but my teacher says that it's a role that really suits my voice; I just have to master those ascending phrases with the B flats.)


As for other roles for me to work on, he said I probably wouldn't enjoy either Herodias or Klytaemnestra. He said the operas are magnificent, but the music for those characters is "ugly". He thought I might look at the Massenet Heroodias instead. I will check to see how high the role actually is written in the score. I have a recording with Dolora Zajick, but she may interpolate some higher notes in. Also Gertrude in Hamlet. I saw Jennifer Larmore in the role and she was stunning. And I looked at the score and I don't think it goes above an A.

Lastly, my CD came back and I am happy with it. The quality of my voice sounds much better than on the mp3 files for some reason. I don't love every single note, but I can live with it. I think it sounds like me singing at my best for now. The engineer said he thought it was too short (about 30 minutes of singing) to be a marketable product but my teacher disagrees. I mean all I want to do with it is sell copies at the church for charity. I left it with my teacher and he said he will listen to it and give me feedback for my next lesson.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

I HAD to Repost this from the TIMES

I hadn't expected to post again today, but when I saw this article in the New York Times I had to repost a link to it here.

You can now only access the Times for free for one day (I actually have an account, as I have home delivery, but I lost my password and can't get them to email me a new one), but if you want to save an article, you can grab a "permalink".

There are two things at issue that I want to write about, one substantive and one "meta". First of all, it makes me feel validated to know that the experience I had that Valentine's Day of 2004, where I became "besotted" (a word from the Times article) with singing (and by extension, with a person whose influence has lingered and will linger always, I am sure), is one shared by other people of a similar age. What is odd, then, is that I haven't found more of these people. The oldest people I have regularly seen on the audition/meetup circuit are in their late 40s, I would guess, and they are extremely polished. I have seen a few much older men (probably my age) but they are still singing on the regional circuit (not hard if you're a baritone or a bass). I have not met any "rough diamonds" (that is really the best way to describe myself - I am not a total beginner nor am I someone with a "modest talent") close to my age. The singers who show up for those things who need technical work are all quite young.

As for what's "meta", I see that so far I have gotten no "likes" or any comments when I posted this article on Facebook. I seem to be always bouncing around between the "lesser of two evils" in that there are numerous singers that I know from "around" and although many of them have let me "friend" them on Facebook, they do not comment on anything I post, certainly not anything to do with singing. I dread, however, asking specifically for feedback because the last time I did that (re: my sound clips here) I got those nasty remarks from Peg. I do seem to have gotten help from some of the more experienced people on the Forum when I asked questions about finding people to sing with, which was a pleasant surprise. Speaking of which, although these people were helpful regarding how to put on an opera or other program, or how to start a formal group (that may be a bit ambitious for me at the moment), I still have not been able to solve my problem re: meeting other older people whose level of expertise is not a fit for our age (another good way to describe myself, because as I said, I am not a "beginner" - I probably have the technical vocal proficiency of someone in an academic vocal performance setting, albeit with a big, mature voice).

One thing I learned from this article is that the Juilliard extension division gives group voice lessons to older people. I may try to contact them to find out how to meet some of these students. If they are taking voice lessons in a group they probably are not at my level, but if they are of a similar age and level of "besottedness", it's a place to start.

Data Bites

I haven't written anything for a while, mostly because nothing all that interesting is happening.

On the church front, I will be singing "Buss und Reu" from the St. Matthew Passion Sunday at 9 am. I learned it quickly - there is just one spot where I have trouble finding my note, so I need to drill it with the recording today, tomorrow, and maybe even Saturday night.

Later that morning we are singing something in a very high range - "E'en so, Lord Jesus" by Paul Manz. The sopranos have two phrases that begin on a high B flat!! Well, this notasoprano is passing on that note and beginning the phrases on an A flat. It's the kind of note where I can just drop my larynx and let it rip, so no problem there.

On Good Friday, I am in the soprano section for the Inroit to the St. Matthew Passion. As the conservatory-trained coloratura has moved on to more prestigious pastures, I guess they need me up there. There is nothing beyond me, really. There is one phrase with a high A, but on those measures he has me (and one of the other second sopranos) singing a "response" word on another staff. The part I have to sing has some nice ascending phrases going up to sustained Gs and Fs, which I can certainly handle. The choir director complimented me on how much better I am able to "control" my voice up there. Well, yes, I have been working my tail off!! I said I use a supported pianissimo, not falsetto. When I tried to sing falsetto up there it choked off my highest notes and some days I couldn't even make it to a B flat. Now that I sing with my larynx down all the time I am going up to high C in exercises every day.

I feel a bit guilty reading about what some of the parishioners are doing during Lent, most notably trying to live on either a bag of groceries from the church's food pantry or the cost of one serving at the community lunch. They are not doing this for all of Lent - just one week each. And they mostly seem to be young. I have been there done that. When I was in my 20s and early 30s often that was all I had for food. I earned almost nothing in a clerical job (this is when I was singing the first time) and in my self-image as an amazon dyke warrior (albeit of the "femme" variety) I wouldn't have been caught dead taking money from my mother. I mean she had very little herself, and certainly couldn't have afforded to pay my rent, for example, but she could have bought me a few groceries.

It's funny. I have never aspired to virtue. Maybe that is because I am not Christian? As I have said, I am a "little bit Christian (the art, music, and Brit Lit lover in me), a little bit Jewish (the New York intellectual in me), and a little bit pagan (the bisexual believer in polyamory in me)." I suppose that translates just fine into Unitarian Universalist. I do try to be fair and just and compassionate, but I feel that my life has put me in a position of being too self-sacrificing (maybe that's uncharitable?) so I am looking to put more, not less, hedonism in it.

On another subject, I put a huge note on my calendar on July 1 to start working on the Verdi Requiem again for two hours a day. In the summer there are no choir rehearsals - just a few ad hoc appearances at Sunday services and the soloists get to have some choice 11:00 anthem spots where we can sing something "upbeat".