Critiques

First, I got back the CD of the Requiem.  I like how "Liber Scriptus" sounds.  It is better than the two earlier recordings I made of it.  And "Lux Aeterna" has an ethereal quality to it that is appropriate, and kudos to us for ending the long a capella section right squarely on pitch.

That being said, my voice is sooo much smaller than the other singers' which is odd, because I think of my voice as being so big (because I am told this by other people).  Well, my voice is certainly loud, unless I am singing piano or pianissimo, but it is small, if that makes sense.  It has a cutting edge.  So I know I could be heard in a big house.  But it is not "large".

Where does vocal perfection come from?  I hear it in the 20 year old soloist who sang tonight.  Is it something one is born with?  Is it something achieved if you take a fresh natural voice and "build" it, instead of taking a damaged misused voice like mine and try to "fix" it? (I am referring now to the first serious lessons I had at 26 after 13 years of smoking and 8 years of drinking and drug abuse, not to mention bellowing Gilbert and Sullivan contralto roles and screaming my way through "Condotta" for my own amusement; not to the lessons I had after my voice was "rediscovered" at 54 after 29 years of sobriety and 28 years of not smoking.)

I mean my voice is much smoother than it was 8 years ago.  But it is still not enough.

This afternoon I sang "Qui Sedes al Dextram Patris" in a service for people who speak Spanish.  There were probably fewer than 20 people there, but I found the service very moving.  The subject was "Stations of the Cross" and having been raised in an atheistic household I didn't really know what that meant, so it was a huge revelation to me (this was never part of the Lutheran Good Friday services that I have sung in).  There were just two people reading, while the assembled looked at beautiful artwork (in the program) of the 14 stations of the cross.  Several depicted Jesus falling down in exhaustion.  I got caught up in the pathos of it all and almost forgot I was going to sing!

Tonight I survived being only an alto chorister in the Brahms Requiem while someone one third my age sang a beautiful solo.

So I made sure I had the most glamorous dress and the biggest piece of jewelry.  (Many of the women were just wearing what used to be called "slacks" and black sweaters.)

Where My LGBT Persona and My Singer Persona Meet

All the talk about LGBT issues (most notably marriage, which doesn't interest me on a personal level - I would only marry someone with a lot of money, gender immaterial) made me think of my exciting past as an LGBT crusader, back when being out was something brave and novel to do, and I decided, as I was not going to post the equality sign on Facebook (too ordinary now) I would post this picture, from my days as a baton twirler with the Big Apple Corps Marching Band.

Seeing this I had a real "epiphany".  This is what I want, full stop.  It's so obvious.  I was not a great baton twirler.  I learned a few tricks at the age of 40 because a friend in the band said they wanted some "girlie" interest.  They had men in sequins and the band in its uniforms (once a female clarinet player showed up in a tux and nothing but fishnet tights) but no real girls.  So the friend said I could probably learn a few twirling moves and I did.  No fancy splits or jumps, but I could do a few high tosses and lots of choreography (I had studied ballet as a child).  But the outfit!!!  I had it specially made for me.  A dream come true.

Now how can I replicate this?

I was thinking that as far as singing is concerned, what I would probably like best is being an alto/mezzo soloist with a group that performs oratorios.  Then I would never have to sing any high notes, and I could be one of four "stars" in a big group.  Technically my age wouldn't matter and my smashed up knee (from an accident in 2004) wouldn't be a liability.

So I thought of the Oratorio Society of New York.

But if you look at their solo competition rules, it says: "The Solo Competition is open to singers of all nationalities who were born on or after January 1, 1973 and who have not made a formal oratorio debut in a major concert hall."

I think this is outrageous!  I can understand wanting younger people to play younger roles, and I can understand wanting someone with more experience than I have to play a role like Azucena or Ulrica, even for no money, apparently, but to sing in an oratorio???

I am just so tired of having to think of everything myself.

In other news, I enjoyed last night (rehearsal where I am an anonymous chorus alto for the Brahms Requiem) more than I thought I would.  Although I don't consider low notes my special star turn, I am the only one in the section who can produce a real, old-fashioned Italian mezzo-style (or Wagnerian, if you like) chest tone on a middle C or a B.

Why I Did Not Change My Facebook Icon Today

Today the Supreme Court is voting on bills to do with same-sex marriage, or, rather, on those to forbid it.

So many, many of my Facebook friends, most not LGBT and many who were not even born when the Stonewall riots occurred, have replaced their regular Facebook profile pictures with

I did not.

I wore a button with this symbol 30 years ago or more.  In those days, I think, it was black with a white equal sign, or maybe a yellow one.

Back then few people knew what it meant, but if someone did, technically you could lose your job.  I say "technically" because New York City did not pass a bill banning discrimination based on sexual orientation until 1986, as you can read here, but working in the publishing industry, it was unlikely that I would have been fired for being gay or, more to the point, for being out.

On the other hand, it may well have kept me in lower level jobs for longer than would otherwise have been the case.

When I wore the button I always had to decide how to answer people if they asked me what it meant.  If I felt threatened, I would say "oh, it just means equal rights for everyone," and leave it at that.  Sometimes I would say that it stood for gay rights, and usually this would embarrass people,  even people with whom I had spoken freely about my female partner (they were called "lovers" in those days, which I much prefer).  Many of the people who were embarrassed were embarrassed about being embarrassed.  They wanted to be on the side of what was right.

Seeing all the brouhaha about gay rights coming from straight quarters these days makes me feel odd.  And seeing all those equality symbols on Facebook makes me feel very very odd, as if I saw someone wearing clothing that had belonged to me, long ago, and that didn't really belong to them.

I know this is silly, uncharitable, and probably totally off base.  For example the civil rights movement would never have swept through this country if hundreds of white people hadn't marched singing "We shall overcome".

I shouldn't look allies in the mouth.

And yet to me this so doesn't matter all that much.  Job discrimination, yes that matters, and the ability to inherit the pension of a loved one.  But so much of what is wrong in this country is really about other things, not about marriage, which in many ways seems to me a failed institution (and one that always was primarily an economic arrangement, based on the assumption that an older male would be the richer partner and would die first).

Even if my SO and I still had "that kind" of relationship, I would not want us to be married.  She is older, and will probably die first, and I am the one with the assets (they don't amount to a lot, but they will see me through my 80s and 90s if they are untouched until then).  If we were married, they would have to be spent down before she could get Medicaid, for example.  Which is why the AARP advises seniors in new relationships to remain legally single.

What I am more concerned with is that there should be a single payer health insurance, and that a person can designate any significant other, not just a family member or lover, to inherit their estate tax free, or their pension. Many people of all persuasions have made a family of friends.

Of course, like all of my friends "wearing red", I hope the Supreme Court does the right thing.  But I was a lot more concerned about Obamacare, for example.

And I am keeping the beautiful smiling choir picture on Facebook.

Requiem Went Well

Today's Verdi Requiem concert went well.  I let it rip with "Liber Scriptus", was solid on all the ensembles, and got through most of "Lux Aeterna" pianissimo,  except for that top G, which I sang full voice, but everyone ended together. I really felt that I held my own with three other experienced singers, two of whom are working professionals.

My only disappointment was that there weren't very many people there, but the people who were there were very appreciative and we got a lot of applause.

My partner was there with the visiting nurse, and she was genuinely happy for me and said I sounded great.

The sound engineer (with whom I have had so many ups and downs) recorded it, and he said this was the best he had ever heard me sing.  (And we have had many ups and downs, as I have written about.)

So now my goal is not to get depressed.

I will be singing "Qui Sedes al Dextram Patris" from the Bach B Minor Mass in the Spanish service at 3 on Good Friday.   I am only a chorus alto in the Brahms Requiem in the big evening service but how I will look at it is that this is a major work, and if I can say I have sung the alto part, this is something marketable.  And actually the alto choristers sing quite a bit on their own and having me there will noticeably beef up the sound.  (I have worked a lot of my lower register for the Verdi and now have a usable low G.)

The two solos have gone to the two new young people from the big conservatory.  The woman singing the soprano solo is only 20!!! and her singing is near perfect.  She has a voice like silk.  And she is not a very light soprano.  Her voice has a lot of maturity.  It's when I hear someone like that that I feel tremendous despair.  I don't feel despair when I listen to the soprano who sang with me today.  She has a spectacular voice but she is a few years younger than I am and has been singing all her life.  But to feel that someone who is 20 (this is someone one third my age!) already has a handle on such vocal perfection and I have so far to go, makes me want to cry and cry and cry, and believe me, I have.  I definitely feel everything is moving in the right direction (other people say this, so I can believe that it is true and not just my perception) but it has taken me almost nine years now and I still am not secure with the top notes, and my voice still has "grit" in it (my teacher says some voices are like that - I think of Callas and Agnes Baltsa, for example).

I think what made me feel so sad at the last choir rehearsal was that when this young woman finished singing through her solo (and she just sort of tossed it off, really sitting there in jeans looking unprepossessing) everyone in the choir looked bowled over.  And I realized that there is nothing I can do that will ever ever ever elicit that kind of response.  Certainly not from that crowd.

So now I have to think about my next project.

For church solos, since there is a new crackerjack violinist there (he is a paid staff member who teaches music to the children and is the boyfriend of the young soprano) I was thinking of "Domine Deus" from the Vivaldi Gloria, which I sang in the past with the elderly violinist who has since become too ill to play (or even to listen to music - it is telling that he was not there this afternoon). That is quiet enough for communion, but the words are upbeat enough for the Easter season.

And then I'm hoping the two of us can do the Bach "Laudamus te" in the summer (something else I sang with the elderly violinist).

But for a big project.  Originally I was going to do a concert called "Viva Verismo" as a sort of companion to the "Viva Verdi" but I have lost interest in it.  There are too many people who sing that sort of material better.

Maybe excerpts from Hamlet?  I am going to buy a score, because I think the role of Gertrude will be perfect for me.  She is an age appropriate character who also has a lot of sex appeal and the music is very lush, and sits high-ish, but I don't think goes above an A or an A flat.

Or some kind of song recital (with someone else - I am not interested in, nor do I have the stamina for, singing one by myself).  I have really quite fallen in love with Spanish art songs, and I also have started looking at the song cycle by Jake Heggie with words by Sister Helen Prejean.  And maybe throw in a a few gay 90s songs, which my partner loves so much.

My therapist (who did come to the concert, by the way) was talking about how if you can't get into something through the front door, you have to use the back door.  So if no one is going to cast me as Azucena, or even La Zia Principessa, I have to find something else.

Because when all is said and done, although it would be wonderful to be able to sing through a role like Azucena in a full scale production, all I really want is that applause.  I have a very magnetic stage personality (that I have been told by dozens of people).  So I just need to find something that no one else is doing.

There are All Kinds of Divas: My Year with "Toots DeVille"

First, just to update y'all, the second and final rehearsal of the Requiem went like gangbusters.  If I can sing that well Saturday I will be thrilled.  So the recipe is basically: get plenty of rest and don't talk any more than necessary. If I want my voice to keep that buzz, I have so keep off the cords.  Thank goodness for email!

Now to the import of this post.

The other day, I was in a "what ever happened to?" mood, so I began googling an old roommate of mine from the late 60s, when I was heavily into drugs (for me that mainly meant amphetamines, poppers, lots of booze, and the occasional joint).  She was one of my glamour heroines, and, yes, in her way she was a diva.

Well, imagine my surprise when I found out that she was someone rather famous in the world of punk rock.  Her husband (they married shortly after she and I lost contact) was named Willy DeVille and was apparently a famous rock musician. I am actually surprised I had never heard of him, because although I spent most of my life listening to predominately classical music or Broadway show tunes, I nonetheless hadn't totally lost touch with the world of rock and pop until the mid 90s. (Did I ever mention that Madonna, before she became famous, was my upstairs neighbor in 1981 or thereabouts?) In any event, she apparently went by the name Toots. For more on her real name and persona, much of which is fabricated or surmised, see this interesting blog post.

When I knew her she was Susan Berle (she's dead, so I see no reason to use a pseudonym) and had been the classmate of a girl I was rooming with, whom I had gone to acting classes with. (I say "girl" deliberately, as we were all 18 and none college bound.) Susan/Toots was quite shocking to me. Not because she used drugs or even because she had brought a pregnancy to term at 18 (having sex as a teenager was commonplace in middle class circles, illegal abortions were not uncommon, but having babies was extremely rare), but because she didn't really do anything except shop at high end mod stores like Paraphernalia and go clubbing at night leaving the baby with her parents. She had not finished high school, and had a stint as a junkie (and a stint in rehab) behind her. From all the reading I did the other day, I see that when she was with Willie she went back to using heroin. When I knew her she was not (even in those days, I would have considered shooting up beyond the pale) but only took amphetamines. She never ate, and was contemptuous of anyone who did. She got me to start taking amphetamines and I went from my natural state of a size 12 (I am using today's sizes) down to what would today be a size 6 but compared to her I was still fat. I eventually lost touch with her after she got married (this was to her first husband, who BTW was not the father of her baby) but her influence on my idea of style remained for some time, and I continued to use amphetamines for another year. 

Yesterday in a fit of boredom I sent an email to the woman who had authored the above referenced blog post and still haven't heard back. I wanted to clarify a few things, about Susan's ethnicity, for example. Her parents were Jewish, but she was adopted and was indeed Native American (or part Native American). Unless that was a story she made up. But it rings true. I know people who adopted female babies (of all races and ethnicities) and even if the adoptive families are upper middle class, a lot of these girls get pregnant and have babies when they are still in their teens.

What I am most interested in is Susan's later life., She stayed with Willie for several decades, apparently, and was deemed in some ways a bad influence on him. He is alleged to have used her family's money and when he became successful they apparently broke up. She is alleged to have cleaned up her act afterwards and went to become a nurse's aide (?) upstate (odd, considering her family's money) and died in her mid 50s, I'm not sure from what, but not from drugs. FWIW, here's are two photos:

which in some ways don't look that afield from

So my idols do have things in common, at least on the surface.

Needed to write this post.  If nothing else, people apparently have been googling "Toots DeVille" so it may get me more hits.

First Rehearsal Debriefing

I should be working (I have a mountain of work here) but I wanted to write something about how the first rehearsal went.

I was extremely nervous about "Liber Scriptus" but it went well (not that I can take that for granted - I will have to psych myself up for it every time!)

Everything, in fact, went well, until I totally imploded on "Lux Aeterna".  In simple English, I got tired and this not only affected my singing (I really had to push that G out) but I lost my place in the syncopated ending.

In fact I was so tired I literally felt like a limp dishrag that had been wrung out.  Like there wasn't enough glucose getting to either my brain or my muscles.

The tenor, who is also a voice teacher, said some nice things.  He said my singing was "clear" (yes, that is one of my strong suits....I have perfect intonation and don't "muddy" the voice like a lot of mezzos).  He also asked me about being tired, asked where I was tired, and I said mostly around the midsection, certainly not my voice, so he said that that meant I was singing correctly.

So why do I get so tired?  It's  not age.  I actually get less tired than I did singing in my 20s or even when I began again in my 50s.  When I go to a doctor for a physical I always get a mostly clean bill of health and I don't have any vitamin deficiencies.  I eat a healthy diet and get a lot of sleep.

I don't "exercise" other than going to Pilates class once a week (although like all New Yorkers I walk a lot, including up and down subway stairs).  

Now I never was a night person, which is probably one issue here.  I eat my last substantial meal of the day usually by 6 (earlier if I have an early rehearsal) and after that there's really no fuel left for me to run on, although I did bring a carton of "muscle milk" to the rehearsal.  I mean historically I have always done my socializing in the afternoon: lunch, matinees, etc.

Even though the problem is with my whole body, not my vocal cords, once the support conks out it is harder to sing correctly, to spin the voice out with that  light buzz.  And I rely more on "push".

Again, it's the question of not having the "something extra".  If I weren't doing something like singing that requires superhuman stamina, I probably would never notice that I was tired, although if given a choice, I would opt for the 3:00 not the 8:00 curtain if I want to see a performance.

Exhibitionism

What I have just done is a first.  In essence deleted a post and replaced it with a new one not because I was ashamed of it but because it didn't really convey what I want to say.  

But if I hadn't written it, I wouldn't have had what might be the biggest insight I have had almost since this journey began eight years ago; certainly it's the biggest insight I've had in several years.

I am an exhibitionist.  This is mostly viewed as negative or pathological (think subway flashers, or, more benignly, people who inappropriately push other people out of the spotlight) but in its milder form, really, it's just a personality trait.

When I look back at times in my life when I've felt really fulfilled, they've been times when I have had something in my life to satisfy that exhibitionism.  This isn't all that I'm about - I also like to cuddle and be cozy and do nice things for people - but if the exhibitionist isn't getting any air time I am not a happy camper.

For years, I think, my exhibitionism was satisfied by being "out" as a Lesbian, back when no one was, certainly not a woman like me who wore pretty dresses.  It was all so exciting.  Back then the world of LGBT (and it wasn't even called that then) was an exciting, highly sexualized, subculture with an element of danger lurking in the background.  It was a very exciting place to be, and I had a great deal of fun (something I seem never to have much of now) shocking straight people by coming out and shocking Lesbians by showing up at their events all dressed up.

Of course singing is a form of exhibitionism, albeit one requiring a great deal of work.  But the payoff, for me, is feeling like a star in front of an audience.  Which is why I would rather star in a homemade event than be in the chorus of a prestigious one.  And why I am feeling depressed and disheartened by the choir these days.  It is now flooded with young conservatory graduates who are really out there doing it so I am basically just a mature woman with a nice enough voice to sing a few solos (which are always things I have to pick and then ask the choir director to find a spot for).  None of the solos interspersed into choral pieces are for my type voice, so it seems, and these are the only ones that get assigned to people.  And as I've said, really my biggest "high" would come, I think, from being a soloist with a group of non-soloists.  (It's really too bad I don't like pop music - then I could make myself a little group with myself at the front.  There are always people who enjoy performing but don't want the spotlight because it makes them nervous.)

So, it seems that there is nothing I can do, in the city where I live, in the circles in which I move (you can't go anywhere  that isn't crawling with people doing something in the performing arts, which makes the idea that I define myself as a "performer" sort of pathetic), that would impress, surprise, or elicit oohs and ahs or bravas from, anyone.  

I suppose in a sense my search for "awesomeness", which I wrote about here, is really about the same thing, it just hadn't crystallized in my mind yet.

At least it's good to know what's wrong.  And that may be why I view my life as "depressing".  If I were the type of deeply religious person, for example, who wanted to be saintly, I would be in my element, taking care of someone frail and vulnerable, and sitting quietly at my little laptop, but I'm not. Nor am I a team player.  I can behave like one if I get some star time as payoff, but that is not who I am in my soul.

So I will have one star moment: singing "Liber Scriptus".  So I had better be ready.  One thing I felt a little better about is that I heard from several singing colleagues that all mezzos are nervous about that A flat, not just me.  But I can't blow it.

And then there will be "Qui Sedes".  If there's too much young talent in the choir now I plan to focus on the Spanish service.  They don't have any musicians, and...they applaud!!

Which still doesn't solve the problem of where to go and what to do to find more of that exhibitionistic rush.

Better

I thought several times about deleting my last post but decided to let it stand.  On the other hand, I felt it would be unfair to let that hang as my most recent post, which is the reason for this one.

I am feeling a little better than yesterday.

I think I have to give some credence to the fact that yes, I do have a very depressing life, and it takes its toll.  I have many blessings, things that many people don't have: a nice apartment in a nice neighborhood for very little rent, good health, people who love me, people who like me, good looks (people are always asking me if I'm an actress, which is nice), talents.

On the other hand it is very wearing to spend all day editing medical manuscripts and then have to be constantly dealing with the problems of someone elderly, ill, and often disagreeable.

Most people I know who are my age have a lot more fun than I do and it isn't because they're more imaginative and more optimistic people.  It's because they either have another breadwinner (helpmeet) in their life or they have no one and can do what they please, they do something for a living that fulfills at least some of their spiritual needs, they see, hear, smell, taste, and experience a much broader range of things than I can right now.

But I am going to have my Requiem.  I am going to do what I can to neutralize my fear about that note in "Liber Scriptus" (it is a bear of a note: you have no set up time) and otherwise I am going to enjoy myself.  This is a huge opportunity even if it is one I organized myself.

And I am going to sing "Qui Sedes" in the Spanish Good Friday service and sing an art song called "Asturiana" by de Falla on "El Salvador Sunday".

I will live to strut my stuff another day.

An Exhausted End to a Bad Day

I felt really depressed all day and if I were to ask myself "Why?" it all sounds so trivial.

First of all, I have to honestly say I have a pretty depressing life, certainly compared to most people I know.  I don't have a tragic life: nothing really terrible has happened to me, although I could say nothing really wonderful has happened to me either, certainly not in recent memory.

I know I'm better off than a lot of people, although this is mostly in the abstract.  I am healthy (not to be taken for granted at my age) and despite living on a tight budget have not been devastated by the economic downturn, as many people have.

On the other hand, I spend about about 50% of my waking life working at something dull, monochromatic, sensually arid, and totally devoid of human interaction, and 40% of it taking care of a loved one who is physically, mentally, and financially deteriorating.  So the other 10% has to compensate for everything.   I rarely do anything frivolous or fun, and the thing that I placed so much hope in, namely singing (and feeling special being front and center performing for people and getting applause - with or without actual applause) seems further and further out of reach.

I used to say that I would never have fallen hook, line, and sinker for The Mentor if I hadn't already been filled with unfulfilled longings of all sorts.  Some of these have been taken care of (I have to be careful what I write about here) but that is few and far between and has to be kept private, so it's not something I can claim bragging rights to.  As for the singing part, what he did wasn't just remind me that I had a voice, but provide me with a few moments of magic via which I was able to feel special in front of an audience in a venue that was rather talent starved.  And while I was never ever stupid or delusional enough to think that I was going to have a career singing at this late date, I don't think I quite fathomed how far down the food chain in the world of classical singing I actually was.  I certainly thought I would have been considered good enough to sing in someone's amateur opera production or concert, to be a sought after church soloist (as distinct from being someone who chases the choir director around with ideas for things I want to sing), or to get invitations to sing at someone's wedding, party, or (sad to say) funeral.  But this has not happened.

OK, let's get specific.  There is now a whole new crew of conservatory students in my little avocational choir, and competition for the solos spots is really heating up, not to mention that there almost never are any for lower women's voices, certainly not interspersed in choir music.  And here's the thing.  The older people who went to conservatories are interested in the younger people who are going to conservatories and it's like an exclusive little club.

I know when I had that conversation with my therapist about "awesomeness" one of the things I mentioned was that I liked the idea of seeming "interesting" to people and having people be curious about me.  Well, something that I have really noticed is that no one is curious about me at all.  I don't recall anyone asking whom I studied with, how I began singing, when, where, and under what circumstances I began singing, what I did before I joined this choir, or really anything at all.  People have thanked me for singing and told me I sounded nice.  Some people just look through me.  There is one in particular, the man whose wife recommended a voice teacher to me (it turns out I couldn't find one thing about this teacher online and it isn't whom her husband studies with anyhow!), who has never ever ever said anything to me when I have sung, but today he thanked some of the people who sang today.  That really rankled.

I am just so tired of thinking up everything for myself, whether it's suggesting solos to the choir director, planning concerts, whatever.  On the other hand if I don't do that I will have nothing.

I wish I were someone who wanted to be "good" but I'm not. (I try to treat people I know with fairness and compassion but I am hardly interested in sainthood, in fact I would like a big fat vacation from taking care of other people that lasts a long long long time.) I am basically self-centered and I want to be in front of an audience getting bravas.  Of course I know I have to work hard, but I didn't think it would be this hard.  I don't even mean I didn't think it would be this hard to sing well, I meant I didn't think it would be this hard to pique someone's interest enough that they would offer me some opportunity to do something  in front of some group of people who would think I was fabulous.

A friend said maybe I should try burlesque.  If my SO weren't such a prude I would do it in a heartbeat. Remember what Mazeppa, Electra, and Tessie said: "You gotta have a gimmick".  Mine could be singing "Mon Coeur."

FWIW, I had a pretty decent runthrough of "Liber Scriptus" when I got home.  I determined I would sing the daylights out of it.  Why not?  I had hardly tired myself this morning.

And now I'm glad the day is over.  Maybe I'll like tomorrow better.

"Letting it Rip"

This post is mostly addressed to Zachary, if he's still reading this blog, or to any other vocal technique people.

One of my ongoing problems, even with the high notes that I solidly do have, is finding that little bit extra that I need to make them spin on big climaxes.  It is sort of akin to what a skater or a gymnast does before a high jump of some kind.  What surprises me, given that I've seen many top notch, Olympic medal winning skaters and gymnasts fall on their butts on some of these jumps, in prime time, is that this doesn't happen to more world class singers when they go for those high notes.

Zachary had asked me what I meant by "letting it rip" and I don't think I came up with a satisfactory answer, but I think I perhaps can now.

First of all, in the interests of full disclosure, Friday I had a very very very bad runthrough of "Liber Scriptus".  Not the worst.  If that top A flat came out like that in the performance and I sang everything else well, I could live to see another day, but I was not happy.

Which is the key.  A lot of the time I am not happy and I am convinced, as I wrote here, is the key to the problem with some of those climaxes.

There is a way I can sing that is technically correct, where I sing on the breath, keep my support going, stay aware of what I am doing (will I ever get to the point - like people I hear in Master Classes - where I don't have to think about this all the time and can move to the next stage?) and it works if I don't have to sing high climactic notes.  It even works as high as A natural if I am singing music that moves lightly, like some of the soprano parts in Bach cantatas that I have sung with the choir.  The G sharps in "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" and "Fac ut Portem" from the Rossini Stabat Mater are a walk in the park.  But to sail up to something like that A flat in "Liber Scriptus" I need something extra, which is what I mean by "letting it rip".  At that moment (or more precisely at the moment before) I have to take a deep breath, let everything lift and feel buoyant, and make space.  It is a very similar feeling to what one does when one is full of excited anticipation, unbounded joy, and so forth.  And it seems to be very very very hard for me to do considering that there is this mild depression lurking underneath a lot of the time.  (I say mild and that's what I mean.  I have read enough medical literature - and my therapist agrees - to know that I would rather feel that way 24/7 than take antidepressants just as I would rather have sinus drainage than take antihistamines.)

But the point is that that "happy" feeling can be manufactured. I am an actress after all.  It is something physiological.  I suppose the great, or even just the good polished singers can do that at will, just as I know how to sing the long run in "Et Exsultavit" on one breath which many professional singers seem not to be able to do.  And it is probably easier for women with smaller voices.  I have heard a lot more of those ugly "straight" notes (caused by lack of that  "little bit extra") from male singers than female ones.

Well, I said a prayer for my Requiem and not only my therapist, but also my partner (with her visiting nurse) will be coming.

Let's hope that makes me  happy.

In Search of Awesomeness

If anyone's interested, I have given this blog a subtitle.

At today's therapy session I decided, that despite my dislike of young people's slang, what I really am looking for is more of a sense of "awesomeness".  I can't think of a better word.

For example, someone with my level of/lack of technical vocal expertise might be thrilled to be singing in a prestigious chorus in a work like the Verdi Requiem in a prestigious venue.  I most decidedly would not, unless I were getting paid as much as I make now working as a copyeditor.  I definitely care more about visibility than I do about venue.

The more I think about it, the more I wish I had been born in a small town.  I remember one of the biggest "ups" for me was when I went to Port Aransas, Texas to hold auditions for my play Duet, and demonstrated for the women auditioning how to sing "Mon Coeur S'Ouvre a ta Voix".  People literally fell on the floor.  They said they had never ever ever stood next to anyone with a voice that size with that type of sound.  Hey!  I could do with a little bit of that on a weekly basis!

But for someone who grew up here, what is there?  I have a rent regulated apartment around the corner from Lincoln Center, and unless something goes awry, they will carry me out in a pine box.  Not to mention that there is no small town I could move to where I wouldn't need a chauffeur, which is rather a sad commentary on the lack of public transportation options in most of this country.

My therapist suggested that maybe I might feel better if I found a place to sing outside of New York that was accessible enough that I could come and go in one day at minimal expense.  I rolled my eyes.  I would have to go very very very far afield to find someplace where my singing of "Mon Coeur" or anything else would be considered special or awesome.

Although that is not entirely true.

One of my intermittent sources of frustration with this high level avocational choir (which I only sing in because most of the time I feel that it "matters" if I am there or not) is that the only opportunities for awesomeness seem to fall to high sopranos or men (the latter because there are so few of them).  What would be awesome a propos of my voice (that it is huge and basically drowns out all the other women even when I'm singing mezzo piano in middle voice) is only an annoyance to people not a crowning glory.  And the odd bits of this and that that I can do better than anyone (for example hold a G above middle C for 24 counts without sneaking a breath) mostly pass by unnoticed.

But getting back to my moment of awesomeness, even on the Upper West side.  Two years ago, after having white knuckled it through the 8th or the 9th solo bit by the woman I have referred to as the "Young Coloratura" in various choir pieces, I set myself the task of finding something to sing with no high notes, not even any "mezzo high notes" (Fs and Gs) that was totally awesome.

What I came up with was the alto cantata "Erfreute Zeit"

http://youtu.be/Dpj5N9lTnHM

and someone in the audience  congregation came up to me afterwards and said "Babydramatic, that was  awesome."

So yes, it's still possible.

My therapist asked me what I do when I feel depressed, angry, and frustrated that other people (in  my immediate surroundings, even virtual ones) are being/perceived as "awesome" and I am not.  I thought for a minute and said "I work harder".   I guess that's just another spin on my mother's "Don't mourn - organize!"

So it's back to "Liber Scriptus".  Yesterday I had 6 out of 7 good runs with it (I kept re-singing the difficult passage because the first time I sang it the piece had gone a half tone flat for some inexplicable reason.)  So today I will try again.  "Lux Aeterna" shouldn't be a problem.  I will breathe where I need to, sing that G as loud as I need to, hold if for 3 counts, and then decrescendo.

My therapist also said we needed to work on my awesomeness.  What would give me that rush?  (Being dressed up with a ton of stage makeup helps, and I love my new hairdo, which is basically the old one courtesy of lots of little rollers instead of a perm, which looks bigger, curlier, and flashier, and is probably better for my hair.)

And she said she will try to come to the concert.  I hope that helps with nerves.