Actually, the title of this post refers to two things: one happy and upbeat, the other rather snarky.
First the happy and upbeat. When I was struggling with "Acerba Volutta" the other day one of the things I tried was singing the ending section "lightly" the way I sing Bach. I mean that top note is only an A!!! I can sing arpeggios up to a high C and comfortably up to a B.
Now years ago, when I first began singing with the choir, I had problems with singing too lightly. I was singing with a "white" (although not a "straight") sound that was "spread" and it choked off my upper register and made it shrill. I think that is what prompted my teacher to talk to me about singing "dark vowels". To get rid of that sound and make my sound more mellow. But I am past that now, and actually have a comfortable buoyant sound that I can carry up to an A (I was remembering how much easier the Randall Thomson "Alleluia" was last year compared to several years earlier) without my voice sounding shrill or spread. Even the choir director has mentioned it.
And I only recently was coached to sing "Et Exsultavit" with a lighter sound.
So today I sang the ending to "Acerba Volutta" and pretended I was singing "Et Exsultavit". I didn't sing the whole aria, but I sang from "Verra? M'Obblio", which might as well be singing the whole thing because there's a huge break before that where I can recoup. And it worked!!! I mean she (the Principessa) is all happy and excited because she is waiting for Maurizio and is imagining him arriving soon. So why not be happy? I don't have to drive a mack truck through it!
As for the snark, this is "telling tales out of school", but I am disillusioned enough now that I don't care.
About five or six years ago, when I was involved with the pseudonymous blog and other Internet fora, a young man who happened to be an opera director hit on me. He was probably about 20 years younger than I was. I knew his father ran an opera company so I played footsie with him and said I wanted him to arrange an audition. I wrote about this in my pseudonymous blog and got a slap on the wrist saying that I should "be careful" blah blah blah. So I "locked" the entry (you can't do that with Blogger). Now I don't care. I don't need to worry about my "reputation in the business" because - let's get real! - I'm not in the "business", I'm just a superannuated wannabe with a good voice who has the management skills to produce my own concerts. For example, when I sent a packet of materials to the father (without the blessing of the son) he (the father) called me up and insulted me saying how dare someone with so little experience have the chutzpah to apply to him for an audition!! And if you add to that the fact that the company where the son is a director is the one where I was rejected out of hand for being too old (because I was not a "future investment" not because of how I looked), I really have nothing to lose and might as well have a good laugh, because...
I see this young man just got married. His wife better keep an eye on him. He may run off with her mother HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Further Clarification of My Previous Post
I made a status update on Facebook about how, at this time in my life, I so wished my passion were writing or painting, not singing, because I simply find it almost impossible to muster up the superhuman energy and "bounce" (I can't think of a better word) to nail the big climaxes in my arias, even familiar ones.
This is not an issue of being seriously fatigued. I have had enough sleep and have eaten healthfully, and have not been talking excessively (BTW my teacher said yes indeed the way New Yorkers naturally speak - harsh, nasal, and down on the cords with a tight throat - is very bad for singing and that yes indeed there are not very many opera singers who were born here).
It is an issue of not having that "something extra". Athletes need it (I can see this from watching skaters and gymnasts, really the only athletes I follow other than tennis players), normal people don't. I can't write a good essay (or produce error-free editing) if I have been sleep deprived for several days or am hypoglycemic from hunger, but I certainly can if I am mildly depressed. Which may be what I am. (I hesitate to use that word because I think it is overused and that people these days are overdiagnosed and overmedicated.)
Singing (certainly singing big climactic phrases with high notes) is another story.
One thing the Mentor once said to me is that "all singing stems from joy". This is certainly true. Either from real joy or from physically being able to replicate the physiognomy of joy - the raised palate, the relaxed throat, the buoyant abdominal muscles.
I know that my technique has improved a great deal in the last few months as is evidenced by how I sound when I vocalize. Even this past week, that has held.
But I have not been able to nail the ending to "Acerba Volutta" to my liking, and that is an aria that I thought I had a lock on. If my abdominal muscles are not buoyant, that top A goes "straight". I know it's not a technical thing because if I isolate that phrase I don't have a problem, but when I try to sing the aria from the beginning, or even from the middle (it has a lot of breaks in it) a lot of old bad habits creep in. Most of these have to do with somatized anxiety and depression that result in my "core" becoming rigid and my not breathing. I have said before it is like a horse balking at a fence. And once I get into that vicious cycle with a phrase I am sunk. I know it's not a technical thing because once I isolated that phrase and sang it a half step higher (without realizing it) and the B flat sounded as good as the A does when it's good, which would not have been true several months ago.
"Re dell'Abisso" sounds really good. Whether that's because it's a new piece or because the highest note I have to sustain is a G, I don't know.
The reason I am working on both these arias is that I am supposed to have an audition on October 20. I say "supposed" because I have not heard back from the woman I sent materials to, which included an audition fee, which didn't bother me, although the fact that it had to be a money order did. Are singers really that irresponsible that they let checks bounce? The only people who use money orders are the destitute; the same people who use check cashing places. As a point of reference I hadn't bought one in 40 years, not since I've had a checking account. I sent the package certified mail and in fact I have not even gotten back the slip showing that it was signed for, which is troubling.
The Requiem is not going badly. I seem to be OK with the phrase in "Liber Scriptus" (it is similar to the phrase in "Acerba Volutta" but is a half step lower) but I have not tried to sing it since my partner was taken to the hospital. I think I will do well with the Requiem. It is in a comfortable range and what is at issue is my musicianship. And it will be sung in the church as an offering for Lent, which will take the focus off me and my performance. I have a soprano and a bass, and my teacher gave me contact information for a tenor but he hasn't yet answered my email.
I am just so tired (or depressed?)
A week ago I sat with my partner as she was in the throes of delirium and I thought she was going to die. I have been forced to deal with the idea of her mortality which is like being beaten by a gang of thugs. Yes, she annoys me and yes, she is not supportive of most of what I want to do with my singing, and yes she is a ridiculous prude, and yes, I am glad I have my own apartment and don't have her underfoot 24/7 but my heart is heavy. I don't want to lose her. If she died I don't think I could get up and do anything much more than sit at my laptop and work and read and watch tv and snuggle with my cat for a loooooong time.
She is out of danger now, so I can sleep, but this was a body blow, literally. I don't feel all bouncy and perk-y.
But the serious question is: probably most singers have things like this in their lives that they go through, but whatever technique they have enables their bodies to go through the motions no matter how they are feeling. So how many more years will it take? I am fighting gravity now!
This is not an issue of being seriously fatigued. I have had enough sleep and have eaten healthfully, and have not been talking excessively (BTW my teacher said yes indeed the way New Yorkers naturally speak - harsh, nasal, and down on the cords with a tight throat - is very bad for singing and that yes indeed there are not very many opera singers who were born here).
It is an issue of not having that "something extra". Athletes need it (I can see this from watching skaters and gymnasts, really the only athletes I follow other than tennis players), normal people don't. I can't write a good essay (or produce error-free editing) if I have been sleep deprived for several days or am hypoglycemic from hunger, but I certainly can if I am mildly depressed. Which may be what I am. (I hesitate to use that word because I think it is overused and that people these days are overdiagnosed and overmedicated.)
Singing (certainly singing big climactic phrases with high notes) is another story.
One thing the Mentor once said to me is that "all singing stems from joy". This is certainly true. Either from real joy or from physically being able to replicate the physiognomy of joy - the raised palate, the relaxed throat, the buoyant abdominal muscles.
I know that my technique has improved a great deal in the last few months as is evidenced by how I sound when I vocalize. Even this past week, that has held.
But I have not been able to nail the ending to "Acerba Volutta" to my liking, and that is an aria that I thought I had a lock on. If my abdominal muscles are not buoyant, that top A goes "straight". I know it's not a technical thing because if I isolate that phrase I don't have a problem, but when I try to sing the aria from the beginning, or even from the middle (it has a lot of breaks in it) a lot of old bad habits creep in. Most of these have to do with somatized anxiety and depression that result in my "core" becoming rigid and my not breathing. I have said before it is like a horse balking at a fence. And once I get into that vicious cycle with a phrase I am sunk. I know it's not a technical thing because once I isolated that phrase and sang it a half step higher (without realizing it) and the B flat sounded as good as the A does when it's good, which would not have been true several months ago.
"Re dell'Abisso" sounds really good. Whether that's because it's a new piece or because the highest note I have to sustain is a G, I don't know.
The reason I am working on both these arias is that I am supposed to have an audition on October 20. I say "supposed" because I have not heard back from the woman I sent materials to, which included an audition fee, which didn't bother me, although the fact that it had to be a money order did. Are singers really that irresponsible that they let checks bounce? The only people who use money orders are the destitute; the same people who use check cashing places. As a point of reference I hadn't bought one in 40 years, not since I've had a checking account. I sent the package certified mail and in fact I have not even gotten back the slip showing that it was signed for, which is troubling.
The Requiem is not going badly. I seem to be OK with the phrase in "Liber Scriptus" (it is similar to the phrase in "Acerba Volutta" but is a half step lower) but I have not tried to sing it since my partner was taken to the hospital. I think I will do well with the Requiem. It is in a comfortable range and what is at issue is my musicianship. And it will be sung in the church as an offering for Lent, which will take the focus off me and my performance. I have a soprano and a bass, and my teacher gave me contact information for a tenor but he hasn't yet answered my email.
I am just so tired (or depressed?)
A week ago I sat with my partner as she was in the throes of delirium and I thought she was going to die. I have been forced to deal with the idea of her mortality which is like being beaten by a gang of thugs. Yes, she annoys me and yes, she is not supportive of most of what I want to do with my singing, and yes she is a ridiculous prude, and yes, I am glad I have my own apartment and don't have her underfoot 24/7 but my heart is heavy. I don't want to lose her. If she died I don't think I could get up and do anything much more than sit at my laptop and work and read and watch tv and snuggle with my cat for a loooooong time.
She is out of danger now, so I can sleep, but this was a body blow, literally. I don't feel all bouncy and perk-y.
But the serious question is: probably most singers have things like this in their lives that they go through, but whatever technique they have enables their bodies to go through the motions no matter how they are feeling. So how many more years will it take? I am fighting gravity now!
Monday, September 24, 2012
Singing and Life are Such a Bad Mix - How Do People Do It?
Among the many reasons I gave up singing at age 30, along with that it was too expensive for a hobby and I needed to go to college at night so I could get a decent job, and that it was considered a "politically incorrect" choice for Lesbians in 1980, was that I simply could not manage the amount of self care required. It was too much fun to be skinny, sleep-deprived, and hoarse after a night of clubbing (even if I myself was no longer smoking).
When I went back to singing I was 54, and took good care of myself anyhow so it was no longer as big an issue.
But despite no longer crash dieting or clubbing, well, there's life. And most of life is not lived with the buoyantly lifted ribcage, the serene breath, and the open pharyngeal space.
Even if one eats properly and sleeps adequately, sadness deflates the ribs, annoyance constricts the back of the throat, minor depression makes it oh, so hard to give that extra lower abdominal "push" needed for those high notes to sail out.
When I was growing up, my mother, who loved classical music but had little respect for classical musicians, referred to singers as "bovine". One of her friends (whom I didn't really know) taught voice at one of the big conservatories and when she went to his house she met several singers (and there was an up and coming young male opera singer who lived next door to us). According to my mother, most of these people were placid, very few if any came from New York, and none of them could carry on a particularly intelligent or animated conversation about the issues of the day.
In the "olden days", I think singers led very sheltered lives (remember all the jokes about female singers and their mothers?). They were not exposed to much that would make them want to scream, cry, or sink into the sort of angst that is best fed with cigarettes, alcohol, or if not those, lots of coffee and interminable talking.
If anyone is wondering why I am thinking about this now, it's that for so much of last three years, I have been stressed to the breaking point by eldercare. Not just the sadness of seeing someone you love in decline, but dealing with the logistics of another person's life as well as your own, worrying, being deprived of sleep, arguing to get a point across with a service provider. It's draining, it makes you hoarse, it's sad, and it's extremely difficult to then go (if I can even find the time) and joyfully or pseudojoyfully muster up the superhuman, tension-free, golden throated energy balance to sing my opera repertoire.
I mean I have enough basic technique to enable me to go on autopilot and sing through a church solo that doesn't go above a G. But nothing more strenuous.
I mean there seem to be singers who can keep the back of their throats open and speak musically no matter how angry or sad they are (is that what my mother meant by "bovine"?) but I am certainly not one of them. (That also may be why it seems that there are not a lot of singers who were born in New York City - the way we speak is absolutely the worst thing a singer can do.) Or maybe some people have been blessed with so much natural energy balance and stamina that they can get all that infrastructure to hold up an evening of Amneris or Azucena even if they are depressed, angry, nervous, or tired. I don't know. I am not one of them, certainly not now.
Some days now I so just want to wallow in all the things that are bad for singing (I think that's what 12 step programs call "feeling your feelings") like talking, eating and sleeping too little, letting my body crumple up and my ribcage collapse, and enjoying the pain of exhaustion as it mirrors the pain in my heart.
(I say pain in my heart because even if the immediate danger has passed, this is probably a downhill slope from which there is no scrambling back to wellness and happiness for my loved one.)
But I have fought too hard for what I have.
So I am going to my lesson tomorrow.
And I will see if I can squeeze in a practice some time this week.
When I went back to singing I was 54, and took good care of myself anyhow so it was no longer as big an issue.
But despite no longer crash dieting or clubbing, well, there's life. And most of life is not lived with the buoyantly lifted ribcage, the serene breath, and the open pharyngeal space.
Even if one eats properly and sleeps adequately, sadness deflates the ribs, annoyance constricts the back of the throat, minor depression makes it oh, so hard to give that extra lower abdominal "push" needed for those high notes to sail out.
When I was growing up, my mother, who loved classical music but had little respect for classical musicians, referred to singers as "bovine". One of her friends (whom I didn't really know) taught voice at one of the big conservatories and when she went to his house she met several singers (and there was an up and coming young male opera singer who lived next door to us). According to my mother, most of these people were placid, very few if any came from New York, and none of them could carry on a particularly intelligent or animated conversation about the issues of the day.
In the "olden days", I think singers led very sheltered lives (remember all the jokes about female singers and their mothers?). They were not exposed to much that would make them want to scream, cry, or sink into the sort of angst that is best fed with cigarettes, alcohol, or if not those, lots of coffee and interminable talking.
If anyone is wondering why I am thinking about this now, it's that for so much of last three years, I have been stressed to the breaking point by eldercare. Not just the sadness of seeing someone you love in decline, but dealing with the logistics of another person's life as well as your own, worrying, being deprived of sleep, arguing to get a point across with a service provider. It's draining, it makes you hoarse, it's sad, and it's extremely difficult to then go (if I can even find the time) and joyfully or pseudojoyfully muster up the superhuman, tension-free, golden throated energy balance to sing my opera repertoire.
I mean I have enough basic technique to enable me to go on autopilot and sing through a church solo that doesn't go above a G. But nothing more strenuous.
I mean there seem to be singers who can keep the back of their throats open and speak musically no matter how angry or sad they are (is that what my mother meant by "bovine"?) but I am certainly not one of them. (That also may be why it seems that there are not a lot of singers who were born in New York City - the way we speak is absolutely the worst thing a singer can do.) Or maybe some people have been blessed with so much natural energy balance and stamina that they can get all that infrastructure to hold up an evening of Amneris or Azucena even if they are depressed, angry, nervous, or tired. I don't know. I am not one of them, certainly not now.
Some days now I so just want to wallow in all the things that are bad for singing (I think that's what 12 step programs call "feeling your feelings") like talking, eating and sleeping too little, letting my body crumple up and my ribcage collapse, and enjoying the pain of exhaustion as it mirrors the pain in my heart.
(I say pain in my heart because even if the immediate danger has passed, this is probably a downhill slope from which there is no scrambling back to wellness and happiness for my loved one.)
But I have fought too hard for what I have.
So I am going to my lesson tomorrow.
And I will see if I can squeeze in a practice some time this week.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Pondering What is Really Important
Thursday my partner was rushed to the hospital with weakness, dizziness, and a fever. She may have a kidney infection, she may have pneumonia. Today she is worse. I sat by her bedside from 3 to 9 pm. She was delirious a lot of the time. She didn't want to eat. I kept saying to myself I would go home when she had dinner, but she didn't want dinner.
I finally left when she was able to pull herself together and tell me to leave. Also, I like and trust the night nurse.
I held her hand and she said she loved me. At one point she said "I have to go" and it sent chills through me. I have edited enough articles about palliative care (not to mention sitting at my mother's death bed) that I know those words could mean what they say.
I cried with the nurse, who said no, she doesn't think my partner is near death, only that she has a bad fever.
A month after we first got together, in December of 1976, we each had pneumonia. Actually her fever was higher then than it is now. Hers was 105, mine was 102. I wasn't in the hospital, but after taking her there I was told to stay home. Back then I was still smoking.
Yesterday when I got home from the hospital at 6:30 (when she was not as bad as she was today) I tried to sing through some of my big arias and was too tired. The whole back of my throat felt raw from lack of sleep and bad speaking habits.
If I (or anyone else) wonders why I keep singing in that choir that doesn't pay me, here's why.
I posted something on Facebook about my situation (being discreet, because my partner does not know I use Facebook) and in less than an hour a group from the church got together to make a prayer circle for me and for my partner, even though I am not Christian. This is what is important. If I were singing a big role with a small opera group (basically the extent of my ambition at this point), that would not have happened. People might not even care all that much.
Tomorrow morning, barring a crisis, I am going to sing with the choir.
Requiem plans continue.
But right now I know what my priorities are.
I finally left when she was able to pull herself together and tell me to leave. Also, I like and trust the night nurse.
I held her hand and she said she loved me. At one point she said "I have to go" and it sent chills through me. I have edited enough articles about palliative care (not to mention sitting at my mother's death bed) that I know those words could mean what they say.
I cried with the nurse, who said no, she doesn't think my partner is near death, only that she has a bad fever.
A month after we first got together, in December of 1976, we each had pneumonia. Actually her fever was higher then than it is now. Hers was 105, mine was 102. I wasn't in the hospital, but after taking her there I was told to stay home. Back then I was still smoking.
Yesterday when I got home from the hospital at 6:30 (when she was not as bad as she was today) I tried to sing through some of my big arias and was too tired. The whole back of my throat felt raw from lack of sleep and bad speaking habits.
If I (or anyone else) wonders why I keep singing in that choir that doesn't pay me, here's why.
I posted something on Facebook about my situation (being discreet, because my partner does not know I use Facebook) and in less than an hour a group from the church got together to make a prayer circle for me and for my partner, even though I am not Christian. This is what is important. If I were singing a big role with a small opera group (basically the extent of my ambition at this point), that would not have happened. People might not even care all that much.
Tomorrow morning, barring a crisis, I am going to sing with the choir.
Requiem plans continue.
But right now I know what my priorities are.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
9-11 Wrap Up and Some Reasons Why I am Happiest Singing in Church
Overall, I would say that the September 11 concert was a success. I enjoyed participating in it and I hope the woman who produced it will ask me to sing in her Christmas concert. (She said she would.)
Interestingly (or distressingly) I don't think I sang "Et Exsultavit" as well as I normally do. (I barely got through "salutari", which is usually a walk in the park for me, and took a breath before "meo", which I haven't done in a long time.) I realize that this is probably because I was at the end of the program and so was probably singing it at 8 pm or later. And that there was a huge lag time between my last meal (a cheese omelette at 5, because call was at 6) and when I sang.
There was a videographer there and they are going to put it on the producer's YouTube channel. So I will see what I look and sound like. If I like it I can post it somewhere. I also asked if there would be a CD or DVD so that I could show it to my partner, who does not use computers.
My aria was the first piece after the intermission and during the intermission I could feel my energy flagging. I had a protein bar with me but I worried if I ate it I would have too much phlegm.
In any event, I got a lot of compliments including from two friends whom I just recently reconnected with after over 20 years, so they had never heard me sing.
Mulling this over in my mind made me realize two things about why I love singing in church, which sort of amazes me as I was raised by two atheists, for whom atheism was a prominent belief system, not the result of being too lazy or too busy to attend worship services.
I realize that the reasons for this are twofold. First, unlike most singers, I sing much better at 11 in the morning than I do at 8 at night. I certainly wouldn't describe myself as a morning person, on the other hand I am not a night person either. On the one hand, when I worked in an office I usually arranged things so I could work from 10 to 6, but if I went to the theater or the opera I would always try to go to a matinee (which of course is not in the morning) so that I didn't have to stumble home at night when I was sleepy. (A dangerous thing for me, walking the short distance from Lincoln Center, which involves crossing six lanes of traffic.) Probably the time of day when I feel best is between 11 am and about 4 pm, after a healthy breakfast and/or a healthy lunch. So when I schedule a concert myself it's usually at 3.
Second, and this says a lot about me, I suppose, a church service is about so many other things besides me and my performance that I have spiritual tools right there at hand to keep me calm and centered. There are prayers to say and a great sermon to listen to. So by the time I have to get up and sing (usually the anthem or during communion) I know that God is with me. (Maybe I have such an affinity for church because when I began attending - in 2003, which is when I met the Mentor - I had already spent almost three decades in AA meetings?) And kidding aside, there is something comforting about looking at the stained-glass window depicting Jesus. Whether or not he was divine, or rose from the dead, he is a kindly presence.
Well, when all was said and done it was a good experience and a good connection to have made.
One thing The Artist's Way says is that if you go shake an apple tree, you might get oranges, and that you shouldn't throw the oranges in the trash. So maybe my involvement with this woman has shown me that there are many thing one can do with a lovely classically trained voice that are not as demanding or as competitive as singing opera, but that don't require that you lapse into different vocal idioms (e.g. belting) that are not vocally or spiritually comfortable.
But I'm still going to fill out that application for the Ulrica audition. My artist's "date" for this week is to do that (and reorganize my audition binder) at 4 pm this afternoon.
Interestingly (or distressingly) I don't think I sang "Et Exsultavit" as well as I normally do. (I barely got through "salutari", which is usually a walk in the park for me, and took a breath before "meo", which I haven't done in a long time.) I realize that this is probably because I was at the end of the program and so was probably singing it at 8 pm or later. And that there was a huge lag time between my last meal (a cheese omelette at 5, because call was at 6) and when I sang.
There was a videographer there and they are going to put it on the producer's YouTube channel. So I will see what I look and sound like. If I like it I can post it somewhere. I also asked if there would be a CD or DVD so that I could show it to my partner, who does not use computers.
My aria was the first piece after the intermission and during the intermission I could feel my energy flagging. I had a protein bar with me but I worried if I ate it I would have too much phlegm.
In any event, I got a lot of compliments including from two friends whom I just recently reconnected with after over 20 years, so they had never heard me sing.
Mulling this over in my mind made me realize two things about why I love singing in church, which sort of amazes me as I was raised by two atheists, for whom atheism was a prominent belief system, not the result of being too lazy or too busy to attend worship services.
I realize that the reasons for this are twofold. First, unlike most singers, I sing much better at 11 in the morning than I do at 8 at night. I certainly wouldn't describe myself as a morning person, on the other hand I am not a night person either. On the one hand, when I worked in an office I usually arranged things so I could work from 10 to 6, but if I went to the theater or the opera I would always try to go to a matinee (which of course is not in the morning) so that I didn't have to stumble home at night when I was sleepy. (A dangerous thing for me, walking the short distance from Lincoln Center, which involves crossing six lanes of traffic.) Probably the time of day when I feel best is between 11 am and about 4 pm, after a healthy breakfast and/or a healthy lunch. So when I schedule a concert myself it's usually at 3.
Second, and this says a lot about me, I suppose, a church service is about so many other things besides me and my performance that I have spiritual tools right there at hand to keep me calm and centered. There are prayers to say and a great sermon to listen to. So by the time I have to get up and sing (usually the anthem or during communion) I know that God is with me. (Maybe I have such an affinity for church because when I began attending - in 2003, which is when I met the Mentor - I had already spent almost three decades in AA meetings?) And kidding aside, there is something comforting about looking at the stained-glass window depicting Jesus. Whether or not he was divine, or rose from the dead, he is a kindly presence.
Well, when all was said and done it was a good experience and a good connection to have made.
One thing The Artist's Way says is that if you go shake an apple tree, you might get oranges, and that you shouldn't throw the oranges in the trash. So maybe my involvement with this woman has shown me that there are many thing one can do with a lovely classically trained voice that are not as demanding or as competitive as singing opera, but that don't require that you lapse into different vocal idioms (e.g. belting) that are not vocally or spiritually comfortable.
But I'm still going to fill out that application for the Ulrica audition. My artist's "date" for this week is to do that (and reorganize my audition binder) at 4 pm this afternoon.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Making Plans
I don't usually post more than once in a day, but some interesting things came up during my lesson.
First of all, Ulrica rocks! That low G is sort of a growl, but the rest of the piece sounds really really good. And despite it's being thought of as "contralto", other than that low G it is not a low piece and has quite a few sustained Gs and A flats. And as this is a new piece I have no bad muscle memories.
So my teacher said, yes, I should go to this audition. The man who played for our "Viva Verdi" concert is the pianist for that group, I think, so I wrote to him and asked him if he had any "inside scoop".
Also my teacher agreed that I should make my "top five" more age appropriate. I don't know if I will keep Ulrica in the batch but I will use it for this audition. And I will swap "Voce di Donna" for "Stella del Marinar". I just have to memorize it. And memorize the Ulrica aria. And I will take out the Favorita aria even though I sing it well and replace it with "Dido's Lament" since they usually want something in English. I suppose Dido, as a classical figure, could be any age. Likewise Dalila, so I will keep "Mon Coeur" for now.
I will also try to add new things. There is an aria from Cilea's L'Arlesiana that he said might be nice for the "Viva Verismo" concert - which, BTW he is very excited about. And he said yes, I should get a score of Hamlet and work on Gertrude. I can maybe eventually add her aria "J'ai Peur" into my set.
The bad news is he is not going to sing the Requiem. He said it is too lyric for his voice. So he is going to see if he can find me someone. I have quite a lot of lead time.
First of all, Ulrica rocks! That low G is sort of a growl, but the rest of the piece sounds really really good. And despite it's being thought of as "contralto", other than that low G it is not a low piece and has quite a few sustained Gs and A flats. And as this is a new piece I have no bad muscle memories.
So my teacher said, yes, I should go to this audition. The man who played for our "Viva Verdi" concert is the pianist for that group, I think, so I wrote to him and asked him if he had any "inside scoop".
Also my teacher agreed that I should make my "top five" more age appropriate. I don't know if I will keep Ulrica in the batch but I will use it for this audition. And I will swap "Voce di Donna" for "Stella del Marinar". I just have to memorize it. And memorize the Ulrica aria. And I will take out the Favorita aria even though I sing it well and replace it with "Dido's Lament" since they usually want something in English. I suppose Dido, as a classical figure, could be any age. Likewise Dalila, so I will keep "Mon Coeur" for now.
I will also try to add new things. There is an aria from Cilea's L'Arlesiana that he said might be nice for the "Viva Verismo" concert - which, BTW he is very excited about. And he said yes, I should get a score of Hamlet and work on Gertrude. I can maybe eventually add her aria "J'ai Peur" into my set.
The bad news is he is not going to sing the Requiem. He said it is too lyric for his voice. So he is going to see if he can find me someone. I have quite a lot of lead time.
Synchronicity
Just as the breakthrough with my singing has held, the breakthrough with my spirit has held also.
The Artist's Way mentions the concept of syncronicity, which no matter how hard I try, I can't wrap my head around. Actually reading this Wikipedia entry has helped a little. In some ways it sounds a bit like New Age blather: if you ask the Universe for something and listen, it will appear.
I think what does happen is that if you become unconflicted about something, you are more likely to say "yes" to things along the way, which will bring you closer to your goal.
I am very happy about the relationship I have formed with the woman producing the September 11 concert. She is a highly trained professional classical singer, who is also a teacher and coach, but is not immersed in the world of aspiring opera singers in their 20s, 30s, and 40s who can sing, act, and talk circles around someone like me. She is probably about my age. So, for example, when I asked if I could produce a concert of opera scenes in the space in her apartment complex, she said yes, I could do it if she sponsored me, and that we could talk about it. So "Viva Verismo!" may have a home.
I also am really excited about some new music I discovered - songs by Jake Heggie set to poems by Sister Helen Prejean. Heggie wrote the opera Dead Man Walking which is about Sister Helen and a man who is executed for murder. One of the songs, "I Live My Life in Primary Colors", would be suitable for church, and another, "More is Required" might work for next year's September 11 concert, if I get asked back. And the songs have a flute accompaniment. And this woman knows a flutist and has performed a concert of songs for voice and flute. So who knows where that could lead?
This afternoon I have a voice lesson and will see how I sound singing Ulrica's aria. I don't know about the low G at the end. The rest of it should not be difficult. I have never sung it, but I have heard it numerous times. If not, I will wait for the next audition opportunity, and think about how/whether to make my aria package more age appropriate.
The Artist's Way mentions the concept of syncronicity, which no matter how hard I try, I can't wrap my head around. Actually reading this Wikipedia entry has helped a little. In some ways it sounds a bit like New Age blather: if you ask the Universe for something and listen, it will appear.
I think what does happen is that if you become unconflicted about something, you are more likely to say "yes" to things along the way, which will bring you closer to your goal.
I am very happy about the relationship I have formed with the woman producing the September 11 concert. She is a highly trained professional classical singer, who is also a teacher and coach, but is not immersed in the world of aspiring opera singers in their 20s, 30s, and 40s who can sing, act, and talk circles around someone like me. She is probably about my age. So, for example, when I asked if I could produce a concert of opera scenes in the space in her apartment complex, she said yes, I could do it if she sponsored me, and that we could talk about it. So "Viva Verismo!" may have a home.
I also am really excited about some new music I discovered - songs by Jake Heggie set to poems by Sister Helen Prejean. Heggie wrote the opera Dead Man Walking which is about Sister Helen and a man who is executed for murder. One of the songs, "I Live My Life in Primary Colors", would be suitable for church, and another, "More is Required" might work for next year's September 11 concert, if I get asked back. And the songs have a flute accompaniment. And this woman knows a flutist and has performed a concert of songs for voice and flute. So who knows where that could lead?
This afternoon I have a voice lesson and will see how I sound singing Ulrica's aria. I don't know about the low G at the end. The rest of it should not be difficult. I have never sung it, but I have heard it numerous times. If not, I will wait for the next audition opportunity, and think about how/whether to make my aria package more age appropriate.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Winding Up with The Artist's Way
As usual, I should be working, not blogging, but this is my "lunch hour" and I felt a blog post coming on...
I am now on Chapter 12, the last chapter, of The Artist's Way. One thing they suggest is that before you bid the workbook au revoir, you reread it. So I am doing that. It is sometimes hard to tear myself away from my latest mystery novel, but I exercise discipline.
I notice that I enjoy life more since beginning this journey. I don't know that I am on my way to being more "successful" either as a singer or in a new career path that would use my "diva" soul, but I find pleasure in small things. After all, the book is called The Artist's Way, not The Artist's Career, How to Succeed in the Arts, or How to Excel in the Art Form of Your Choice. It is about a way of life. I think the Mentor had that way of life, and that I picked up quite a bit of it through my painfully yearning to emulate him. In fact, many of the things the book suggests that you do I already did when I was making that painful transition toward art and sensuality: I got rid of a ton of clothing that was too big (not because I had lost weight but because I had dumped the "pc dyke" persona that mandates that you do not show your curves and if you must wear a dress it should be baggy and long or corporate and swimming on you) and a ton of pastel bedding and replaced both with things that signaled Dalila not Miss Marple.
What's interesting is that I find myself feeling more loving toward my partner. It was her "artist's soul" that attracted her to me in the first place. If she had $25, she would buy a ticket to an avante garde dance concert and live on saltines. The place was always a mess but there would be some marvelous colorful object or swath of red somewhere. I think we both held each other back. She didn't like my singing opera, I didn't like her avante garde feminist filmmaking. Interestingly, whatever I feel about her and however that has changed over the years, I pretty much believe that one on one monogamous relationships where the goal is domestic bliss stifle people, full stop. People are better off "single" and then involving themselves in relationships, physical or otherwise, to varying degrees with people they care about and observing strict boundaries. Which is why I have zero interest in same sex marriage. I am more interested in whether or not we can have a single payer health system (marriage as a gateway to a spouse's health benefits is one reason people like being married). I suppose if you have children you should stay together as a couple for the duration of the children's childhood (and probably be monogamous, too) but that's about 20 years. Hardly a lifetime these days!
So how has this affected my singing? I am still holding onto most of the gains with my upper register but unfortunately it has not translated into a surge of confidence. I just have too much baggage. Which is why young voice students (or beginners of any age) are told to stay away from the rep I've been singing for years, until their technique is secure. As I said, I don't think I ever hurt my voice but I created a slew of very bad memories.
Well, I have retooled "Liber Scriptus" which only goes up to an A flat. Maybe I will try something else next.
I read about an audition for Un Ballo in Maschera. Ulrica is not a role I would have thought of for my voice (too much singing below middle C) but I will take a look at the score at my teacher's house. He said he will see how he thinks I sound. To go to that audition I will need to give them a list of five arias. I wonder if I should swap out Laura for Cieca? Cieca is a role I could sing because it does not go very low. There is a lot of low-ish singing around middle C but that is easy for me. It is certainly more age appropriate. And I have always wanted to learn Gertrude's "J'ai Peur" from Hamlet. I don't think it goes above an A or an A flat. Maybe I should eventually swap that for Dalila although that would be hard. That would leave Favorita as the only "young" role represented. The Principessa in Adriana could be older. Or maybe something from Dead Man Walking.
I ordered a set of Jake Heggie songs that are based on Sister Helen's poetry. I heard Joyce DiDonato sing one of them in a concert on tv. They are with flute accompaniment and might be suitable for church solos or something else. I am still enjoying the rehearsals from the September 11 concert. I feel more comfortable singing a non-operatic (but still classical) piece in a group of beginner singers of all ages than I did singing opera rep amidst young people with conservatory degrees and managed singers in their 40s. I think the people who showed up for this September concert are more like what I had expected at the opera singer meetups. People who were working on vocal technique who were not professionals, but had the voice and the passion to sing opera. So we will see how I progress after my work with the Artist's Way workbook is finished. I joined an Artist's Way meetup and will see what comes of that.
And I made a long-range plan to take a short vacation for my partner's 80th birthday, which will be in 2014. I haven't had a vacation since 2009, when I left my last full time job. And this doesn't feel like a bone I'm throwing her to make up for all the time and money I spend on singing. Not everyone gets to have an 80th birthday.
One the The Artist's Way stresses is to keep an open mind. Maybe I will find a niche for myself singing song literature and sacred music, where I can use the solid technique I do have and let go of my love-hate relationship with big arias with high notes. Although not quite yet...
And I may come back from tonight's rehearsals with some photos. The director asked people with smart phone cameras (not me!) to bring them. So I am going to be sure to wear something diva-ish and hot!
I am now on Chapter 12, the last chapter, of The Artist's Way. One thing they suggest is that before you bid the workbook au revoir, you reread it. So I am doing that. It is sometimes hard to tear myself away from my latest mystery novel, but I exercise discipline.
I notice that I enjoy life more since beginning this journey. I don't know that I am on my way to being more "successful" either as a singer or in a new career path that would use my "diva" soul, but I find pleasure in small things. After all, the book is called The Artist's Way, not The Artist's Career, How to Succeed in the Arts, or How to Excel in the Art Form of Your Choice. It is about a way of life. I think the Mentor had that way of life, and that I picked up quite a bit of it through my painfully yearning to emulate him. In fact, many of the things the book suggests that you do I already did when I was making that painful transition toward art and sensuality: I got rid of a ton of clothing that was too big (not because I had lost weight but because I had dumped the "pc dyke" persona that mandates that you do not show your curves and if you must wear a dress it should be baggy and long or corporate and swimming on you) and a ton of pastel bedding and replaced both with things that signaled Dalila not Miss Marple.
What's interesting is that I find myself feeling more loving toward my partner. It was her "artist's soul" that attracted her to me in the first place. If she had $25, she would buy a ticket to an avante garde dance concert and live on saltines. The place was always a mess but there would be some marvelous colorful object or swath of red somewhere. I think we both held each other back. She didn't like my singing opera, I didn't like her avante garde feminist filmmaking. Interestingly, whatever I feel about her and however that has changed over the years, I pretty much believe that one on one monogamous relationships where the goal is domestic bliss stifle people, full stop. People are better off "single" and then involving themselves in relationships, physical or otherwise, to varying degrees with people they care about and observing strict boundaries. Which is why I have zero interest in same sex marriage. I am more interested in whether or not we can have a single payer health system (marriage as a gateway to a spouse's health benefits is one reason people like being married). I suppose if you have children you should stay together as a couple for the duration of the children's childhood (and probably be monogamous, too) but that's about 20 years. Hardly a lifetime these days!
So how has this affected my singing? I am still holding onto most of the gains with my upper register but unfortunately it has not translated into a surge of confidence. I just have too much baggage. Which is why young voice students (or beginners of any age) are told to stay away from the rep I've been singing for years, until their technique is secure. As I said, I don't think I ever hurt my voice but I created a slew of very bad memories.
Well, I have retooled "Liber Scriptus" which only goes up to an A flat. Maybe I will try something else next.
I read about an audition for Un Ballo in Maschera. Ulrica is not a role I would have thought of for my voice (too much singing below middle C) but I will take a look at the score at my teacher's house. He said he will see how he thinks I sound. To go to that audition I will need to give them a list of five arias. I wonder if I should swap out Laura for Cieca? Cieca is a role I could sing because it does not go very low. There is a lot of low-ish singing around middle C but that is easy for me. It is certainly more age appropriate. And I have always wanted to learn Gertrude's "J'ai Peur" from Hamlet. I don't think it goes above an A or an A flat. Maybe I should eventually swap that for Dalila although that would be hard. That would leave Favorita as the only "young" role represented. The Principessa in Adriana could be older. Or maybe something from Dead Man Walking.
I ordered a set of Jake Heggie songs that are based on Sister Helen's poetry. I heard Joyce DiDonato sing one of them in a concert on tv. They are with flute accompaniment and might be suitable for church solos or something else. I am still enjoying the rehearsals from the September 11 concert. I feel more comfortable singing a non-operatic (but still classical) piece in a group of beginner singers of all ages than I did singing opera rep amidst young people with conservatory degrees and managed singers in their 40s. I think the people who showed up for this September concert are more like what I had expected at the opera singer meetups. People who were working on vocal technique who were not professionals, but had the voice and the passion to sing opera. So we will see how I progress after my work with the Artist's Way workbook is finished. I joined an Artist's Way meetup and will see what comes of that.
And I made a long-range plan to take a short vacation for my partner's 80th birthday, which will be in 2014. I haven't had a vacation since 2009, when I left my last full time job. And this doesn't feel like a bone I'm throwing her to make up for all the time and money I spend on singing. Not everyone gets to have an 80th birthday.
One the The Artist's Way stresses is to keep an open mind. Maybe I will find a niche for myself singing song literature and sacred music, where I can use the solid technique I do have and let go of my love-hate relationship with big arias with high notes. Although not quite yet...
And I may come back from tonight's rehearsals with some photos. The director asked people with smart phone cameras (not me!) to bring them. So I am going to be sure to wear something diva-ish and hot!
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