A Father and a Daughter, and Some Sadness

Several months ago, I wrote about my sadness over a father's pride in a daughter's blog post. Well, there was a deja vu this afternoon, when the father, once again, referenced one of his daughter's blog posts with pride.

This father, this daughter, their respective lifestyles, their "issues", and, not least, the father's (non)relationship with me, hit so many nerves.

First, the father is a professional musician.  He has been extremely helpful to me, giving me guidance about one or two things when I asked for advice, and his advice was sound.  If it hadn't been for that advice, I wouldn't be doing some of what I'm doing today.  On the other hand, based on our interactions on Facebook (we have never met) it is obvious that I am not part of the "inner circle".  There is a way that professional musicians talk with each other that is "clubby" and exclusive that does not include serious hobbyists and to this serious hobbyist, at least, this is quite obvious.

Second, he is genuinely proud of his daughter.  As an adult, a separate person.  My parents loved me, but only as a child.  When I began to have adult concerns (am I pretty?  why am I not popular?) I was just blown off.  My father died when I was in high school, at the height of our estrangement.  Would he have encouraged me to sing, I wonder?  (I know he would have beaten me bloody if he had ever seen me smoking.)  And my mother, who died fairly recently (I was 60) never was able to relate to me as a person, only as a piece of property, which as the years went by, so obviously did not meet with her expectations.  She wanted me to be "an intellectual", most particularly a writer, but only on her terms.  She could never remember what I actually did for a living (making it harder for me to learn to like it and have any self-respect in that area) and when I did have a small success with a piece of writing (a play that I suppose would qualify as "chick lit"), she kept the bound copy in her bedroom, while keeping the typescript of a friend's son's postmodern novella on her living room coffee table.

Then there is his daughter's lifestyle.  She is a housewife.  How fortunate!  I would love to have (or at least to have had) the experience of living off someone else's earnings, even briefly.  And obviously I don't mean family.  I mean someone who chose me because in some way I was romantically attractive to them.  I learned from this recent blog post that this young woman had problems with mental illness.  Well, so have a number of people I've known, and most of them have had to soldier on, bouncing from dead end job to dead end job, using the "reasonable accommodation" HR law to get them through if they needed time off.  Most of them could not maintain a long-term relationship, certainly not with someone willing to support them!

In all honesty I can't say that I have ever had a major mental illness (other than active alcoholism, in the very distant past) but I have had various degrees of mental un-wellness that have probably interfered with my fulfilling my potential.  I had a keen eye for jobs where I didn't have to work too hard and could take long lunches to go to AA meetings, spend hours with a phone tucked under my ear while I sized art, and, more recently, blow off steam in email and chat room exchanges.

There are people who like me and people who love me.  I know that.  I suppose sometimes I yearn to feel "showcased" the way that daughter was by that father.

And the bad weather doesn't help.  I know I will have Carmen rehearsals starting soon.  And I will have to fight with my partner, who got angry when I mentioned how fond I was of my new "sponsor" and how much that relationship means to me.  And I was pleasantly surprised at choir practice last week when the choir director asked me, in front of the group, how my concert went.

Concert Went Well - And a Whine about the Weather

I was going to wait to post about Sunday's concert until I got pictures (two people took really nice pictures of me with the producer) but I haven't gotten them yet.  I did take a "selfie" which sort of shows my outfit and also shows a wall hanging I bought in honor of the Mentor (about 5 years ago).  I have gotten better at selfies (remembering not to grimace the way I would if I were just trying to frame a photograph) but I still can't get them to show anything below my shoulders.

I thought I sang well; the only problem was that the silk rose somehow got stuck in my lace sleeve, and flipped backwards instead of out into the audience (also, there was no attractive man or woman I felt that I wanted to honor with the rose!).  Also, although using the chair as a prop was a great idea (I had no trouble sitting down, standing up, or standing with my foot on it), when it came to "toss it aside" gracefully, it was too heavy and I could barely move it.

Plans for the Carmen concert continue.  I now have an accompanist.  I have not gotten a confirmation email back from the tenor, so I will contact him again.  There will be two runthrough rehearsals with the accompanist (I don't know yet if we will have a Micaela and an Escamillo) and before then I will try to go to 4 or 5 meetups with the producer/sponsor.  She posted several for the end of January and the beginning of February, but I want to avoid going out unnecessarily until there is less snow on the ground.  I am figuring I can get to maybe one at the end of February, two in March, and two in April.  

I finally had a lesson yesterday after not having had one for five weeks, and not singing any exercises (or anything) above an A for a week.  I sang through "Chanson Boheme" like a house afire, and today during my practice I sailed comfortably up to a high C on a long arpeggio.  Not a squeak that got stuck in my throat but a real note.  Maybe at some point I will go back to the difficult repertoire (meaning Verdi) that I have taken a break from.  

As for the weather, I am frightened for my safety in this storm.  I had a doctor's appointment this morning, but am in for the rest of the day.  Tomorrow night is choir practice.  The choir director has said the rule is that if the subways are running, we are on.  If I want to stay competitive with all the new talented young people I can't be a sissy and stay home because of a snowstorm, unless an advisory is issued (it has been for tonight).  I mean I now have a whole "old lady" protocol all the way from using a cane, to taking buses not subways, to, now, since my last fall, asking the bus driver to let me exit using the wheelchair platform if the bus has steps (a lot of them don't).  But staying home is not an option, I wouldn't think.  Of course this is an endless source of friction with my SO who would love to keep me in a little box until it's time for me to come do chores for her.  What bothers me is I have lived with inclement weather for over 6 decades and this is the first year I have really been frightened by it.  As a child it was fun, as a teenager it signaled a welcome holiday from school, and as an adult going to work it was a nuisance (I remember waiting for a bus standing in a foot of snow and thinking my legs were going to freeze off, for example, as well as having to clamber over huge snow drifts to cross the street) but  not a hazard.

Well, now it's back to Carmen.  I need to get serious about memorizing the second half of it!

ETA: Here is a photo of me with the woman who produced the concert and will sponsor my Carmen.  Note the stunning view from her window!

Some

Particularly in view of my last post, I want to write here about the fabulous time I had last night working on the "Habanera"!  I have been singing this piece for 49 years yikes!! yet it is always fresh.

Last night I got the kind of holistic coaching that I had not gotten since working with The Mentor.  Some of the vocal things are not 100% in synch with what my teacher tells me, but as the piece is in a comfortable middle register, it doesn't matter.  The Spanish coach (she considers Carmen like Spanish music, and is very excited about working on it with me) told me to pronounce the French like spoken French, very forward and nasal, and to emphasize the consonants. She also wants it more self-contained and sneery.  There won't be room to walk among the guests, so she suggested using a chair (which will be by the piano) as a prop.  I am a little nervous because with my bad arthritis, standing up and sitting down gracefully is not easy, but this chair is high enough (unlike a church pew) that it should certainly be manageable.  She also gave me a silk rose, and there are all sorts of things I can do with that that will be quite titillating.

I was going to wear these shoes, which I had worn at the bookstore, but the buckle is broken and I won't have time to get it repaired by Sunday, so I will wear black ones.  I am a little nervous about walking in heels, but they are not high and the shoes have rubber soles.

And the date for the Carmen concert is confirmed!! I reminded the tenor, and asked him about finding a Micaela and an Escamillo.  I said that if these were people from the pay to sing group it would be "nice" if they chipped in to pay the accompanist for the performance and 2 or 3 rehearsals.  I hope that didn't put him off.  I know he has sung with that pay to sing group but I have no idea if he has paid anything.  He is a member of the Met chorus.  I would not ask him to pay anything, but when he mentioned finding the other singers he implied they would be "emerging" types.

I also sent an email to the accompanist the coach suggested.

Of course when I mentioned this to my partner, she made a snide remark about tenors (I had told her about the concert several months ago when I first had the idea) referring back to the Mentor.  But this morning she apologized.

My back is about 95% better, and I have not taken any Advil since Monday.  So I am going to try to schedule a lesson for next week and go back to my regular practice routine.

What I Yearn for and How to Get It

I rarely post twice in one day, but I came across this post on my reading list and had to share it, because it is this that I feel so desperately deprived of, as a mature, now officially "physically challenged" church and concert soloist.

I yearn to dress up, get into mischief, flirt, play with props.  Especially in the realm of make believe on someone else's dime.

Sure, I could try to stage "fancy dress" parties (as the British call them) but it would probably cost a fortune (I can hardly see doing this in my studio apartment!) and the little bit of mischief I get into has to be very discreet.

If I can barely get on and off a bus and am so terrified of slipping on the sidewalk that I use a cane not only if it's snowing but even if it's just raining (and this has nothing to do with my recent back injury), I can hardly run all over a stage engaging in high jinks.

OK, so what can I do?

Lean back against the piano singing "Moonfall".  My SO won't be at the concert so I can wear something low cut.

Slither among the guests singing the "Habanera" and hand out flowers.  The producer is going to give me some beautiful silk roses so I won't need to buy any.  And even I can walk indoors in heels, and if I think the floor is slippery, I can wear ballet flats.

Recovering from an Injury, and

Saturday January 4, after the big snowstorm, I slipped and fell on the steps of a city bus because they were covered with ice and snow, and banged my lower back.  For the first week it just felt a little stiff and a little sore, but the Sunday following (the 12th) I woke up in agony.  Monday was even worse.  It was worst when I woke up and then sort of subsided during the day.  Yesterday I went to see an orthopedist.

Nothing is fractured.  He called it a "contusion".  The thing that was most upsetting was seeing the radiograph of my spine. (Surfing the Internet - I'm a medical editor, after all - the picture I found that most resembles it is this,)

Actually, I think my condition is even more extreme, curving farther to the left.  It has gotten worse in recent years, which explains why I keep getting shorter.  He (and several other health professionals) have said there is nothing to be done about it.  He also said I have "age-related degeneration of the lumbar spine".  This latter may explain why my recovery from the fall has been slow.

The orthopedist said if it is not better in a week to go for physical therapy.

Part of me believes that the MTA should be liable, because if the bus driver had stopped the bus and cleaned the steps, or put the steps out of action and had people exit using the wheelchair platform, this never would have happened.  I already was using a cane and hanging on to the railing.  There are now new buses that don't have steps, Just a platform that allows almost flat exit to the sidewalk, but some lines still use the old ones.  I don't blame this particular bus driver as he probably wouldn't have known or been told what to do, but there should be better safety measures.  So I will see how many out of pocket medical expenses I have.  Anything strictly medical is paid for, but I don't know about physical therapy.

The interesting part of this post, though, is about what my voice teacher said.  I was supposed to have a lesson Monday (I hadn't had one for a month due to scheduling conflicts for both of us; my teacher still performs regularly) and he said not to come, particularly as I had taken Advil that day.  (That was the only day I took it; I hate "taking things".)  He said Advil thins the blood and if you do strenuous singing it can cause vocal hemorrhage.  He also said if my body is not aligned properly, I can get into bad habits.  So basically it's no strenuous vocal exercises, just light warmups before choir practice and rehearsals for this Sunday concert.  Neither the "Habanera" nor "Moonfall" is strenuous and nothing I have to sing at choir practice goes above a G.  (By "light warmups" he meant staying out of my extreme upper register, which requires a lot of support.)

I was even more pleased by his saying that I don't really "need" lessons to sing correctly in the limited range that I use to sing art songs or church solos.  He said at this point, the purpose of lessons is to grow my skills: build my stamina, increase my facility at the ends of my range, tweak and refine things.

Last night we had a rehearsal for the Sunday concert.  I like working with this group because it is a very diverse group in terms of genre, skill level, and age.  There was one woman there with a magnificent voice (a rich full sound with easy, spun pianissimi) whom the director is encouraging to try to pursue a career (she has the "goods", just doesn't know what to do as she is not a conservatory graduate), and then another woman at my level (a classically trained singer a little younger than I am who started late and who sings art songs), as well as a young woman who never had singing lessons who sang a ballad from a musical.

What heartens me is that this director is really interested in me, in a way that no one has been since the Mentor.

And I had a ball singing "Moonfall".  For those of you who don't know it, here are the words.

Between the very dead of night and day

Upon a steely sheet of light, I’ll lay

And in the moonfall, I’ll give myself to you

I’ll bathe in moonfall, and dress myself in dew.

Before the cloak of night reveals the morn

Time holds its dream while it conceals the dawn,

And in the moonfall, all sound is frozen still,

Yet warm against me, your skin will warm the chill

Of moonfall. I feel its fingers

Lingers, the veil of nightshade,

Light made from stars that all too soon fall,

Moonfall, that pours from you.

Betwixt our hearts let nothing intervene

Between our eyes the only sight I’ve seen

Is lustrous moonfall as it blinds my view

So that soon I only see but

YOU

An Auspicious Beginning

Well, so far 2014 is off to an auspicious start.

Yesterday I sang "Cant deis Aucells" in the Spanish service.  I sang well, and the accompanist complemented me.  He said the piece was in a good range for me.  I think the Spanish song literature in general is in a good range for me.  Really mezzo; not soprano or alto.  The best chunk of my voice is really from the A in the middle of the staff up to the F at the top of the staff and that's exactly where these pieces sit.  Ditto most of Carmen.

I must be doing something right because I am singing scales and arpeggios up to a high C and back every day.  I think I am finally relaxing my jaw in a way I didn't know how to do before.

For the concert on the 19th I am going to sing "Moonfall" as well as the Habanera.  We are supposed to have the first rehearsal Wednesday, so I won't be at choir practice.  The choir director didn't seem to be too upset about it.  If I am singing soprano in the piece we will be singing on the 12th I can listen to it on Youtube and have the melody in my head when we have the runthrough Sunday morning.

I am really sick of this weather.  I worry about my safety.  Sunday I almost slipped and fell on the icy sidewalks and had to take a cab to church.  I already have to walk with the cane and can't use the subways when there's too much snow and ice.

New Year's Resolutions, Refined

I thought I had done with this subject in my last post of 2013, but I was inspired to be a little more articulate as a result of reading a blog post by one of the most articulate women I know, who is also one of the most creative women I know and one of the best writers, despite living with numerous challenges.

So here are my resolutions, refined.

1. Get off the following merry-go-round: Working at home alone makes me depressed, not working enough hours gives me financial anxiety which makes me more depressed, and the idea of using my pittance of free time to try to find something else to do for a living is the most depressing of all.  To do instead: Work as many hours as I have to, admit that I hate doing it, that this is something that it is too late to change, as finding a new livelihood at my age would require a prohibitive amount of time, money, or both, and make the rest of my life as colorful, richly peopled, sensual, and right brain as possible.
2. Do everything I can to jump-start my imagination.  My imagination is a muscle, and after 35 years working for large corporations, it has atrophied.  Re-read http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Artist's_Way, revisit the exercises in the back of the book, find ways to put more sights, sounds, smells, and tastes into my life. Savor and milk every teensy weensy interpersonal interaction I can find.  Although I (surprisingly) got a very low score on a depression screening test, I got a high score on a loneliness screening test.  Treat my loneliness (which is caused by my livelihood: editing at home on a laptop) as an illness and look for antidotes everywhere.
3. Tell myself every day that yes I am an artist (singer, writer) even if this isn't what I do for a living. I am more creative than probably 90% of women in their 60s with bachelors' degrees, I just don't spend enough time with "ordinary folk".
4. Spend more time with "ordinary folk" (not easy when you live on Manhattan's Upper West side).  By this I mean people with boring jobs who try to find pleasure in life where they can.  There are more of us than there are working artists and if I do that, my situation looks less pitiable.
5. Stop reading blogs from working performing artists who one way or another, find ways to disparage amateurs, whether it's me or Miss Kansas, and get these people off my Facebook list (mostly done).  All this does is make me feel terrible about myself and I don't really learn anything from them that I don't already know.  (I still read blogs from voice teachers and coaches who talk about technique, health, and repertoire.)
6. Treasure every minute with my SO.  She is almost 80.
7. Always have a solo singing gig in my future.  These can be choir solos; or songs and arias to sing with this new Meetup group that I found, at which I am one of the singers with more training (some people who show up have never even had a singing lesson, so the fact that I can sing an art song in a limited range with a nice line garners praise, which I never got at the other meetups full of "real" singers on the opera audition circuit); or material for self-produced concerts.
8. Spend more time working on the non-technical skills I need to sing.  These include languages, trying to learn to read key signatures, and maybe learning to sightread (have yet to make myself do this).
9. Write more, even just this blog.  Also try to get more readers.  Sometimes there are things here that I don't want people to know about, but if I am timid, I will die anonymous, which is something I do not want.
10. Take more risks. There isn't that much time left.