I haven't written anything here for a while, partly because my modem was out for five days, so I couldn't access this site (I'm not adept enough to do anything more complex than a simple Google search on my smart phone), and partly because nothing has been going on.
Today brought back some memories. I have written ad nauseum about my "discovery" by the Mentor, which I link to Valentine's Day of 2004, but actually, this journey began with my singing Dido's Lament on the "Day of the Dead" service at the Unitarian Church on October 31, 2003.
That was the first time I had sung a solo piece in public in 23 years. That was when I developed a belief in God, which I had never had before, even after, at that point, 28 years in 12 step programs. I think I believed that if I got my voice back (it was not 100% secure, but it was pure and true, and in the classical style) in God's house meant that s/he must really be there. I had fantasized about singing, dreamed (as in what happens when one is asleep) about singing, fooled around with singing (I even screamed my way through "Condotta" once for someone's entertainment, probably in the mid 90s or thereabouts), but I had never stood up and really sung. And it gave me a rush that I wanted to feel again. The singing, the mastery of a difficult task, the applause, the compliments.
So is this an addiction?
I have recently gone back to AA meetings, not because I was worried about drinking, but because I wanted to be around people who had more serious problems and more difficult lives than I do, and get a different perspective. Alas, I don't get that perspective in church, despite their serving meals for the poor and taking Christian charity very seriously, because the poor and those employed in drudgery seem to be "other", not congregants, or at least they're not the congregants I meet in the choir or at the free classical music concerts I attend.
So of course the subject of the Fourth Step has come up.
I feel at an impasse with this. I am not starting from ground zero, I am not recently recovered from drinking or another uncontrollable addiction. Is my desire to get attention from an audience an addiction? Here is where I am not clear. There is an inappropriate kind of self-centeredness, one that harms or attempts to deprive others, but to some extent this is just a personality trait, as I wrote about here.
Is the fact that I am happier as a solo singer, even in the humblest of venues, than I am as a choral singer, a character flaw? I would hardly think so. Is the fact that I like applause and compliments a character flaw? I have worked really really really hard this past nine years and would like some time in the spotlight, and some appreciation.
Is it a character flaw that I am less happy singing with the choir now that there is this influx of "emerging pros" from conservatories?
Being bitter is a character flaw, and I am trying to be less bitter. There is no point to it anyhow. If I feel underappreciated I can work harder and/or find someplace to sing where there is less talent and I can shine more (and have more solo opportunities).
So what's next?
When the Advent Season schedule comes out I am going to ask the choir director (via email) if I can sing "Nun Wandre Maria" on Magnificat Sunday (or something else on another Sunday, but right now I'm drawing a blank, as all my music seems to be for that day or for Christmas). If I don't get a solo spot in one of the regular services before 2013 is over, I will see if I can sing the Bach Gounod "Ave Maria" in the Spanish service. They like things in Latin, and I hear now that there are at least 40 people at each service, sometimes more. I am pretty sure I will be singing one of the Nin songs (I am looking at "El Cant deis Aucells", which is an homage to Debussy, and refers to the birth of Jesus) at one of the Spanish services during Epiphany, if not on Epiphany itself. One of the pianists for that service said "we are always happy to have you". And if the Spanish woman produces a Christmas/Holiday concert I will sing in it whatever day it is unless I have a solo at the church.
And then there's Carmen. Next week I am going to start planning about doing that in the Spring, unless the Spanish music concert is definite. The Sequidilla and the Chanson Boheme are sounding much better. Learning how to flip my tongue around an "l" without tiring my jaw has made all the difference.
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