Last night I sang at the Hispanic Heritage Month get together held by the woman who produced the September 11 concert.
It turned out there were only two other people there: one singer (female) and one actor (male).
I have mostly good things to report. First of all, I can see that I have a real affinity for Spanish classical song. The organizer (who is of Spanish descent and is a specialist in this repertoire) gave me a book of classical Spanish songs to look at (which contains a song by Manuel Garcia, which was the song that inspired Bizet's "Habanera".)
Most of these songs sit in an upper middle register, which is where my voice is strongest, have a lot of melismatic passages (something I sing well), pretty much no sustained high notes, and nothing below middle C. So they are tailor made for my strengths and avoid my weaknesses.
The organizer also gave me the name of a book to read, called Spain: The Root and the Flower.
So I ordered both of these items.
What heartens me, is that (albeit in a limited repertoire) I find myself getting the kind of mentoring from this woman that I so desperate yearn for and never got from anyone except The Mentor, who of course ended up being toxic. She seems to be eager to teach me all sorts of things related to the music I am singing.
The other woman there was a mezzo, a "real" singer, aka someone who sings with these no pay groups, who has an impressive CV filled with apprenticeships, prizes, and plum high profile assignments (even if not for pay) as well as some paid singing. She is of Hispanic descent and teaches Spanish and Portuguese. She is certainly very knowledgeable about Spanish and Latin American music, and has a huge voice that can easily sing the music I so long(ed) to sing with a wide range, and a huge sound with much head resonance (although a lot of darkness as well). She is going to be singing Carmen with one of these pay to sing readthrough groups, having sung Mercedes with another one of these groups (she knows my teacher), easily sailing up to the high C. So if she is who is paying to sing at these readthroughs, they will never be interested in me.
Maybe I don't have such a big voice after all. It is certainly loud and it can certainly carry over an orchestra, at least from the middle of the staff up. (And - shoutout to the choir director - even my lower register could carry well enough above the small chamber orchestra we use for Reformation Sunday in that alto solo that now isn't.) But it doesn't have a large aureole (this is not a technical term, I know, but I am clear what I mean about it). It has taken me years to get even the tiniest bit of head resonance and that still is not a lot. If it is not my past smoking, or my being from New York and spending a lifetime speaking in chest voice, what is it? My blocked sinuses? My narrow head and narrow nose?
I mean I do have a "voice" and I will never ever ever give up singing until I die or develop a disability that prevents it, but maybe I will never have the range or the stamina for opera? I just don't know. I love it so, but recently I have tried to "unpack" my passionate obsession with singing opera to see exactly what it is that I am so passionate about. I have a dramatic personality and love the spotlight, which is why singing church music only satisfies me somewhat. It is beautiful music, but no matter how well I sing it, in that setting other things are always paramount. Maybe Spanish songs will be the next big thing? I can dress up and be sexy and sing for audiences and convey drama without overtaxing myself vocally.
The best news of all is that the concert organizer told me that I had "the makings of a fine Spanish music singer". I am looking forward to her Spring concert. Probably this other woman won't be interested in it, and even if she is, I am sure there will be room enough for both of us.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
A Few Small Things
After posting a comment on a friend's blog, which will link back here, I wanted to make a brief update.
Yesterday I went to a chamber music concert at the church, which featured a mezzo singing Verdi's "Ave Maria with Strings". This is certainly something I could sing. This woman has a lovely voice, is beautiful to look at, and has an impressive resume full of singing and performing in wildly diverse genres. There are dozens of these women all over New York, which is why there is hardly a nook or a cranny so lowly that is not crowded with them, where I can hardly compete. I am almost positive that she showed up once at one of these get up and sing meetups, the ones where I felt so outclassed and hence uncomfortable. (I can't tell if it was she, or another mezzo with the same first name who looks similar, who was at the meetup, but I think it was she; I remembered her smile.)
I was flattered that the choir director (who runs the series and played the piano for another number on the program) spoke to me afterwards and asked me what I thought of the piece. I said it interested me but I would need a piano accompaniment as I am not going to be able to assemble a whole string quartet! He said there was a version with a piano accompaniment. A day or so earlier he had said that he would try to get me a copy. So at least this means he takes me seriously, which is nice. This is not something I could ever sing as a church solo because it is too long, and we only sing "Ave Marias" on Magnificat Sunday and on a day like that he wants something a little less somber. But it is something I could sing someplace. It didn't sound as if it had a very wide range.
The other thing that pleased me is that the woman who is having the Hispanic Heritage event sent another email in which she mentioned that she is planning a spring concert of Spanish music, and will have several more get togethers so that people can present Spanish songs that they would like to do. I found at least three in the book of Nin songs (it only contains half of what I thought it would) that I can use. One is quite high and has a long cadenza, so I will not try to sing it Monday. The other two will certainly be manageable. My Spanish pronunciation is improving, if not my translating abilities. This book has French translations of the songs rather than English ones, but French is the foreign language I know best, so I am able to figure out what most of the songs mean.
Tomorrow is choir practice. I intend to kick b**t with those low-lying runs in the Handel. I intend for the years of training that I have, and the hours I put in practicing, to show, whether this is noticed or not.
I am having a tooth pulled in the morning, but was told I should be able to sing easily tomorrow night.
Yesterday I went to a chamber music concert at the church, which featured a mezzo singing Verdi's "Ave Maria with Strings". This is certainly something I could sing. This woman has a lovely voice, is beautiful to look at, and has an impressive resume full of singing and performing in wildly diverse genres. There are dozens of these women all over New York, which is why there is hardly a nook or a cranny so lowly that is not crowded with them, where I can hardly compete. I am almost positive that she showed up once at one of these get up and sing meetups, the ones where I felt so outclassed and hence uncomfortable. (I can't tell if it was she, or another mezzo with the same first name who looks similar, who was at the meetup, but I think it was she; I remembered her smile.)
I was flattered that the choir director (who runs the series and played the piano for another number on the program) spoke to me afterwards and asked me what I thought of the piece. I said it interested me but I would need a piano accompaniment as I am not going to be able to assemble a whole string quartet! He said there was a version with a piano accompaniment. A day or so earlier he had said that he would try to get me a copy. So at least this means he takes me seriously, which is nice. This is not something I could ever sing as a church solo because it is too long, and we only sing "Ave Marias" on Magnificat Sunday and on a day like that he wants something a little less somber. But it is something I could sing someplace. It didn't sound as if it had a very wide range.
The other thing that pleased me is that the woman who is having the Hispanic Heritage event sent another email in which she mentioned that she is planning a spring concert of Spanish music, and will have several more get togethers so that people can present Spanish songs that they would like to do. I found at least three in the book of Nin songs (it only contains half of what I thought it would) that I can use. One is quite high and has a long cadenza, so I will not try to sing it Monday. The other two will certainly be manageable. My Spanish pronunciation is improving, if not my translating abilities. This book has French translations of the songs rather than English ones, but French is the foreign language I know best, so I am able to figure out what most of the songs mean.
Tomorrow is choir practice. I intend to kick b**t with those low-lying runs in the Handel. I intend for the years of training that I have, and the hours I put in practicing, to show, whether this is noticed or not.
I am having a tooth pulled in the morning, but was told I should be able to sing easily tomorrow night.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Thank You
Well, you never know.
A friend to whom I forwarded the link to the new video of "Angel" from the September concert (I was happy with how I sounded but not with the videography; the focus should have been on my face and upper body rather than having a long view where the largest item in the frame was the piano) told me that the (first) woman whose blog post upset me had posted a nice comment.
I was totally astounded. Yes, she did, and I know if she said something nice, she meant it.
I have a sneaking suspicion she may read this from time to time (if only to keep her finger on the pulse of what's going on in the world of voice students) so if you drop by, thank you. Thank you very much.
Tonight I went to the Blessing of the Animals service at the church with pictures of my cats. I got to hold a little papillon in my arms because a woman had come with two dogs and that one needed to be held because she had just had dental surgery and anesthesia. This past year and a half is the first time in 40 years I haven't had a dog.
I found the service very healing. One of the women who led the service said that "animals teach us to forgive".
Now I am here with my cat on my lap.
I hope my Spanish song book comes soon.
A friend to whom I forwarded the link to the new video of "Angel" from the September concert (I was happy with how I sounded but not with the videography; the focus should have been on my face and upper body rather than having a long view where the largest item in the frame was the piano) told me that the (first) woman whose blog post upset me had posted a nice comment.
I was totally astounded. Yes, she did, and I know if she said something nice, she meant it.
I have a sneaking suspicion she may read this from time to time (if only to keep her finger on the pulse of what's going on in the world of voice students) so if you drop by, thank you. Thank you very much.
Tonight I went to the Blessing of the Animals service at the church with pictures of my cats. I got to hold a little papillon in my arms because a woman had come with two dogs and that one needed to be held because she had just had dental surgery and anesthesia. This past year and a half is the first time in 40 years I haven't had a dog.
I found the service very healing. One of the women who led the service said that "animals teach us to forgive".
Now I am here with my cat on my lap.
I hope my Spanish song book comes soon.
The Luxury Department
A long time ago, someone at an AA meeting referred to "the luxury department". By that he meant trying to figure out what someone is thinking, or what they mean. You can't ever really know.
For example, I will never know if the two bloggers whose posts really hit me where I lived and insulted me were thinking of me. Maybe they weren't (although it's interesting that, regarding the first one, I was told she was not by other people; she didn't write to me herself). On the other hand, every therapist I've ever met (either as a client or as a colleague - when I was a volunteer counselor at the LGBT center) has said "trust your gut". So if things people say (even if they're about other people, not me) leave a bad taste in my mouth, I perhaps don't need them on my daily reading list.
Now I am onto a whole 'nuther subject entirely.
I am just not happy singing with the Lutheran choir any more, but I can't think of anything else to do with myself. I love the services at the church, although I have no desire to be Baptised, and if/when my partner predeceases me (she is 15 years older and in poor health) I had often thought I would throw myself into some of the social outreach activities there like serving lunch at the soup kitchen.
But I just feel very under-appreciated. If this were a corporate job, what I would be doing now is, first, talking to coworkers about my perceptions/experiences to see if they were reality based, then maybe say something to my boss during a performance evaluation, get coaching on how to approach him/her with some of my sources of dissatisfaction, etc. And look at the want ads (what quaint language; I really date myself).
The problem is, I have no one to check things out with, first of all. If only it were as simple as people getting individual positive/critical feedback, or even having to audition for certain spots, but it's all sort of under the table, and a lot of it (back to trusting my gut?) involves intangibles.
Over the years that I've been there, the bar has been raised quite a bit, for various things. When I started singing there, as people are not paid, I was one of four trained singers, that's it. We still did difficult music, but some of the higher soprano parts were simplified because there was no one there who could sing them (two of the trained singers were myself and another classically trained mezzo who sang soprano, sometimes with difficulty, and the other two were men). Now it's a whole 'nuther ball game. I am sure I can still sing a solo here and there, but probably never again at one of the high profile services.
I had promised myself I wouldn't say anything about the "disappeared" alto solo (I am singing the alto part in that piece, which is fine; I am the only one who can sing that opening line on one breath and I will sing it as if it were a solo.) I didn't, but ended up making a joke about how my lack of enthusiasm for some of the spirituals that we sing wasn't that I'm a snob, but that so many of them have solos for high women's voices or for men, but never for lower women's voices. So the choir director kind of took umbrage and said "well, it's a choir after all", so I said, "yes, I wouldn't care if there were no solos" which seemed to make him angry, and I know he rarely gets angry.
Then he thanked the two soloists who sang in the piece last Sunday. He has never ever ever thanked me for anything I did in front of other people, only privately. Does that have significance? Also I have heard him recommend concerts that other people in the choir are performing in, either orally after the rehearsal, or via email. He never did that for my Verdi Requiem concert; all he did was let me hand out flyers, and then he told people about it a propos of that there was going to be a Good Friday rehearsal afterwards (which I did not attend) and that the ticket money was going to the food pantry and the soup kitchen. So do these things have significance? This is what is meant by "the luxury department". I really don't know. If this were an office situation I would ask someone else, but I am not comfortable doing that.
Last but not least, my main problem is that I haven't a clue what to do with myself otherwise. I have been scared off almost everything other than concerts I organize myself, because too many other people are better, which is just a fact. It doesn't mean I don't sing beautifully. It just means that in my immediate environs if I compare myself to the pool of other classical singers I am way at the bottom. On the other hand (and this is somewhat a propos of my feeling entitled to define myself as an "opera singer") if I compare myself to a random pool of people, I probably sing better than 99% of them. When I open my mouth in a random situation (singing "Happy Birthday" at an office party, for example) I sound like an opera singer, not like someone who enjoys karaoke night.
I am going to try to make working with the woman who produced the September concert more of a priority. Unfortunately, most of what she does seems to involve having "workshops", mostly for people with minimal training, who sing musical theater. But any time she is doing something that seems like it would be a place for classical singers, I will jump on it.
For good or ill, I seem to be someone who needs a lot of "stroking". I don't mean that I don't want constructive criticism (although I think this should be given in private), but I like to feel appreciated, and the point has come when I really don't. I think I would really like to be praised (for something I really do well, and there are things I really do well) in front of everyone for a change.
Now I don't think I'm being given an indirect message that it's time for me to go. I have gotten that message at various jobs, when new management took over. I have been one of a handful of people who were given a hard time (although not threatened with firing) who eventually got the message and went elsewhere, to a better opportunity. I know they still need me if there's a second soprano part, or even from time to time in the alto section, which only has one other trained singer and is not capable of producing a big plummy sound.
So I am not sure what to do next. Other than practice and practice and practice.
For example, I will never know if the two bloggers whose posts really hit me where I lived and insulted me were thinking of me. Maybe they weren't (although it's interesting that, regarding the first one, I was told she was not by other people; she didn't write to me herself). On the other hand, every therapist I've ever met (either as a client or as a colleague - when I was a volunteer counselor at the LGBT center) has said "trust your gut". So if things people say (even if they're about other people, not me) leave a bad taste in my mouth, I perhaps don't need them on my daily reading list.
Now I am onto a whole 'nuther subject entirely.
I am just not happy singing with the Lutheran choir any more, but I can't think of anything else to do with myself. I love the services at the church, although I have no desire to be Baptised, and if/when my partner predeceases me (she is 15 years older and in poor health) I had often thought I would throw myself into some of the social outreach activities there like serving lunch at the soup kitchen.
But I just feel very under-appreciated. If this were a corporate job, what I would be doing now is, first, talking to coworkers about my perceptions/experiences to see if they were reality based, then maybe say something to my boss during a performance evaluation, get coaching on how to approach him/her with some of my sources of dissatisfaction, etc. And look at the want ads (what quaint language; I really date myself).
The problem is, I have no one to check things out with, first of all. If only it were as simple as people getting individual positive/critical feedback, or even having to audition for certain spots, but it's all sort of under the table, and a lot of it (back to trusting my gut?) involves intangibles.
Over the years that I've been there, the bar has been raised quite a bit, for various things. When I started singing there, as people are not paid, I was one of four trained singers, that's it. We still did difficult music, but some of the higher soprano parts were simplified because there was no one there who could sing them (two of the trained singers were myself and another classically trained mezzo who sang soprano, sometimes with difficulty, and the other two were men). Now it's a whole 'nuther ball game. I am sure I can still sing a solo here and there, but probably never again at one of the high profile services.
I had promised myself I wouldn't say anything about the "disappeared" alto solo (I am singing the alto part in that piece, which is fine; I am the only one who can sing that opening line on one breath and I will sing it as if it were a solo.) I didn't, but ended up making a joke about how my lack of enthusiasm for some of the spirituals that we sing wasn't that I'm a snob, but that so many of them have solos for high women's voices or for men, but never for lower women's voices. So the choir director kind of took umbrage and said "well, it's a choir after all", so I said, "yes, I wouldn't care if there were no solos" which seemed to make him angry, and I know he rarely gets angry.
Then he thanked the two soloists who sang in the piece last Sunday. He has never ever ever thanked me for anything I did in front of other people, only privately. Does that have significance? Also I have heard him recommend concerts that other people in the choir are performing in, either orally after the rehearsal, or via email. He never did that for my Verdi Requiem concert; all he did was let me hand out flyers, and then he told people about it a propos of that there was going to be a Good Friday rehearsal afterwards (which I did not attend) and that the ticket money was going to the food pantry and the soup kitchen. So do these things have significance? This is what is meant by "the luxury department". I really don't know. If this were an office situation I would ask someone else, but I am not comfortable doing that.
Last but not least, my main problem is that I haven't a clue what to do with myself otherwise. I have been scared off almost everything other than concerts I organize myself, because too many other people are better, which is just a fact. It doesn't mean I don't sing beautifully. It just means that in my immediate environs if I compare myself to the pool of other classical singers I am way at the bottom. On the other hand (and this is somewhat a propos of my feeling entitled to define myself as an "opera singer") if I compare myself to a random pool of people, I probably sing better than 99% of them. When I open my mouth in a random situation (singing "Happy Birthday" at an office party, for example) I sound like an opera singer, not like someone who enjoys karaoke night.
I am going to try to make working with the woman who produced the September concert more of a priority. Unfortunately, most of what she does seems to involve having "workshops", mostly for people with minimal training, who sing musical theater. But any time she is doing something that seems like it would be a place for classical singers, I will jump on it.
For good or ill, I seem to be someone who needs a lot of "stroking". I don't mean that I don't want constructive criticism (although I think this should be given in private), but I like to feel appreciated, and the point has come when I really don't. I think I would really like to be praised (for something I really do well, and there are things I really do well) in front of everyone for a change.
Now I don't think I'm being given an indirect message that it's time for me to go. I have gotten that message at various jobs, when new management took over. I have been one of a handful of people who were given a hard time (although not threatened with firing) who eventually got the message and went elsewhere, to a better opportunity. I know they still need me if there's a second soprano part, or even from time to time in the alto section, which only has one other trained singer and is not capable of producing a big plummy sound.
So I am not sure what to do next. Other than practice and practice and practice.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Tra la la
Just dropping in to say, yes, I am still singing.
But I do feel ten pounds lighter not having certain people/blogs/online groups on my reading list. If I want to read things from singers and voice teachers I want to hear about roles they're singing, vocal technique, repertoire choices and interpretation, or health tips, and that's it. Let's leave the dishing to the Queens in the Parterre box.
I have gone back to work on Carmen. I have not heard back from the woman who produced the September concert regarding whether and when I can use the performance space, but I know right now she is busy with other things. She made a genuine offer and seemed to like my project.
My teacher is going to ask the tenor who sang in my Verdi concert, who is singing Don Jose somewhere, if he would be interested in this project. I need a tenor, a reader, and a venue, and that's it.
At my lesson today we worked on the Seguidilla. I had made some headway with the B, and it had all slipped away after I didn't sing the piece for a while. Now I feel I am on top of it again, but I need to nail down what I learned today. Also, working on the "Chanson Boheme" I can really see how much tension I have in my jaw/tongue (although not as much as I had in the past) because all that "tra la la-ing" is hard for me. He gave me some pointers about that as well, particularly practicing singing/saying/mouthing "lalalala" without moving my jaw, which is not easy. Certainly the piece sounded much better in my lesson that it did this week when I was practicing.
There are some minor annoyances of course. There was a ready made alto solo in the choral piece from Judas Maccabeus, but the choir director said he is going to have all the altos sing that. So I feel there is a double standard. We continue apace with the endless spirituals with the obligatory high solo descant (I think I have sung backup to 10 or 15 of these in the past 3 or 4 years), but the one time there is a solo for a lower voice we are not doing it??? I still don't know which part I am singing (the soprano part only goes up to a G and the alto part doesn't go below middle C so I could sing either), so I haven't worked on the piece.
On a more positive and enlightening note, I had an interesting talk with a woman at church about how I am not the only one getting tired of all the talks by superachievers (not just in music; it just happens that I haven't attended the others). I don't want to say too much because some people from the church may read this blog, but it is an important issue with regard to how I feel. One reason I love this church (in addition to the music) is the very strong message they give about charity toward the poor and the outcast. They have a soup kitchen and food pantry, which is one reason I make an annual donation. But often the poor are spoken of as "other". I mean *I'm* poor, for Pete's sake, and I am taking care of someone who is really poor, aka on Food Stamps.
I think it might behoove them (although as I am not a member of the church, only of the choir, I don't feel it's my place to say something) to ask someone to talk about what it's like to be a waiter, a harried administrative assistant, or a single Mom working at a low wage office job, not just what it's like to be a Broadway producer, a star in a musical, or a banker on Wall Street. That's one thing I love about 12 step programs. Everyone's story is considered equally worthy of being told.
Well, that's my two cents.
But I do feel ten pounds lighter not having certain people/blogs/online groups on my reading list. If I want to read things from singers and voice teachers I want to hear about roles they're singing, vocal technique, repertoire choices and interpretation, or health tips, and that's it. Let's leave the dishing to the Queens in the Parterre box.
I have gone back to work on Carmen. I have not heard back from the woman who produced the September concert regarding whether and when I can use the performance space, but I know right now she is busy with other things. She made a genuine offer and seemed to like my project.
My teacher is going to ask the tenor who sang in my Verdi concert, who is singing Don Jose somewhere, if he would be interested in this project. I need a tenor, a reader, and a venue, and that's it.
At my lesson today we worked on the Seguidilla. I had made some headway with the B, and it had all slipped away after I didn't sing the piece for a while. Now I feel I am on top of it again, but I need to nail down what I learned today. Also, working on the "Chanson Boheme" I can really see how much tension I have in my jaw/tongue (although not as much as I had in the past) because all that "tra la la-ing" is hard for me. He gave me some pointers about that as well, particularly practicing singing/saying/mouthing "lalalala" without moving my jaw, which is not easy. Certainly the piece sounded much better in my lesson that it did this week when I was practicing.
There are some minor annoyances of course. There was a ready made alto solo in the choral piece from Judas Maccabeus, but the choir director said he is going to have all the altos sing that. So I feel there is a double standard. We continue apace with the endless spirituals with the obligatory high solo descant (I think I have sung backup to 10 or 15 of these in the past 3 or 4 years), but the one time there is a solo for a lower voice we are not doing it??? I still don't know which part I am singing (the soprano part only goes up to a G and the alto part doesn't go below middle C so I could sing either), so I haven't worked on the piece.
On a more positive and enlightening note, I had an interesting talk with a woman at church about how I am not the only one getting tired of all the talks by superachievers (not just in music; it just happens that I haven't attended the others). I don't want to say too much because some people from the church may read this blog, but it is an important issue with regard to how I feel. One reason I love this church (in addition to the music) is the very strong message they give about charity toward the poor and the outcast. They have a soup kitchen and food pantry, which is one reason I make an annual donation. But often the poor are spoken of as "other". I mean *I'm* poor, for Pete's sake, and I am taking care of someone who is really poor, aka on Food Stamps.
I think it might behoove them (although as I am not a member of the church, only of the choir, I don't feel it's my place to say something) to ask someone to talk about what it's like to be a waiter, a harried administrative assistant, or a single Mom working at a low wage office job, not just what it's like to be a Broadway producer, a star in a musical, or a banker on Wall Street. That's one thing I love about 12 step programs. Everyone's story is considered equally worthy of being told.
Well, that's my two cents.
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