What Goes Up Must Come Down (Reprise)

I was so happy with my plans for my Carmen concert.  Why can't it last?

Yesterday I had a totally crappy morning.

The choir was singing a Spanish anthem with a little solo for two altos.  So I sang the top part and one of the other women sang the bottom part.  I thought it sounded nice.  It was a lovely anthem, mostly in four parts with an occasional middle women's part, so I sang alto and when there were three women's parts I switched to the middle part, which was on the soprano line. There was a high C at the end, so little miss Conservatory (and probably at least one other soprano) sang it.

So guess what?  When we were done rehearsing the choir director said "Thank you LMC for that high C"!!!! Is this mind boggling or what???? Not "thank you Babydramatic and alto for that lovely intro" or "thank you all for the anthem" but "Thank you LMC???"

In all the years I've sung there, this particular choir director has always made a point of stressing (by his behavior) that, as Lutherans assert, the communal voice is more important than the individual voice, and, up until recently, has never thanked anyone in front of the group, other than the usual "thank you tenors [or whomever] for that [whatever]". So as they say in the therapy biz, I  have no idea what this is "about".

But I can tell you it is getting under my skin.  Also, to make things worse, one of the women in the alto section (not my duet partner) made a vague critical comment about the little duet and then when I asked her what I should have done differently made a smarmy kind of "never mind" gesture and then said, looking embarrassed "well, what you need to do is sing it with confidence".  Well, you know what?  I am sure I did.  That little bar of music is in the best part of my range.

I wish these things didn't bother me so much but they do.  I keep thinking if I were a better person, or more "grown up", I wouldn't care.  But that's just not who I am.  Being a diva who loves the limelight is in my DNA and I should stop apologizing for it.  I only wish I could find something as ear-grabbing as a bloody high C.  No, and I don't have a B natural or a B flat either, really.  And no one seems to care if I can sing with a lovely line, or that I can hold a note in the middle of the staff almost indefinitely while everyone else is staggering breaths, or that I can sing pages and pages of heavily ornamented music in a middle register without choking to death.

Speaking of choking to death, I just think those extreme notes are not in my physiology.  They do not materialize no matter what I do.  When I try to sing a B flat off the cuff, for example, I don't squeak or squeal, which would be a start, I make a hideous yowl (probably if it translated to a note it would be an F at the top of the staff) that sounds like a cat being strangled.

I feel so much despair because I haven't a clue what to do about this problem (not the problem of my upper register, but the problem of how to find a wow! factor without it).  I finally said something to the choir director about the fact that we'd had "an awful lot of solos for high sopranos lately", which is when he offered me the top line of the duet in the Spanish anthem (and said he would try to find a spot for "O Rest in the Lord" on Maundy Thursday; if I don't hear from him I will write to him again).  But now it isn't even an issue of being more equitable with solos; it is an issue of being more equitable with praise.  Isn't this something leaders (like bosses) are supposed to be self-aware about?  Also, what's so mystifying is he never behaved that way before.  And no, I don't think he has a crush on this young woman.  He has a gorgeous wife, and this young woman is not all that much to look at.  Yes, she has a stunning voice, particularly in the context of what is, when all is said and done, a "convenience sample" choir, but other people have other vocal assets as well.  And just as a point of accuracy, she is not arrogant or full or herself at all.  She is very sweet.  So my upset is with him, not her.

I was so upset yesterday that even my partner encouraged me to "talk", something she never does.  I think she was worried that if I looked upset it might be about her.  I can't say, though, that she had any helpful suggestions.  Yes, I know I should be grateful to be singing in this choir in this church with a lot of wonderful people, but if I wanted to, I could stop singing there (that would be the acid test - would anyone miss me and say so?) and work in the food pantry on Saturdays and see my partner on Sundays.  And sing with the woman producing my Carmen concert.  She is a lot more sensitive to the fact that everyone wants their moment in the spotlight, whether they're singing a complex aria or a simple song.

One thing I have decided to do is every day, post one clip of a great mezzo singing an oratorio aria that does not go above an E or an F.  Maybe that will educate people that voices come in all ranges and that there are divas who don't sing high Cs.

Reality Checks, but....Maybe I've Found My Gimmick

Carmen is going well.  The tenor is on board.  We have a Micaela.  The accompanist is intrigued by the project.  And I discovered how much I enjoy creating a performance piece.  In putting together the script from the novella I was able to use my playwriting skills.  True, these are Merimee's words,  not mine, but in fact they're not entirely his words because what I have is an English translation.  So a lot of artistry went into selecting which passages to read, where to omit things, and when to change archaic language.

And the wonderful news is that I think this project has legs.  The woman producing it is known for, among other things, a one woman show that she does using readings and songs.  I can easily see how I could turn this into one.  What I like about it is it's its own unique entity.  Yes, I sang the role of Dalila, but other people can do that better, and the Met can produce it more lavishly.  And big orchestras can certainly do better with the Verdi Requiem.  And all these small opera groups can do a better job with a complete production of Carmen.  But I was the one who thought up this project and it is unique.

Maybe feeling happy and artistically fulfilled by this has allowed me to do some reality checks.

I will probably never be a real Verdi mezzo.  I still believe that  I could have been one if I had begun studying when I was younger (or even if I'd just continued on with where I was at 30).  My voice is certainly big enough, it has the right palette of colors, and I have a dramatic temperament.  But as a late starter who started at the age many singers retire, when my body was starting to get weaker, I simply have neither the range nor the stamina.

I also have decided to transpose the last page of the Seguidilla down a half step.  If it was good enough for Grace Bumbry on the recording, it is good enough for me.  I mean even then it's not a sure thing because a B flat is not 100% in my range either, but it's certainly 85% in my range, which a B natural is not (for the B natural I would say 50%, which is not good enough for a peformance).  I also realized that one thing that was causing me problems was trying to sing staccati up the scale and end with that little hiccup where you jump from an F sharp to a B.  I realize that one of the handful of B flats I never had trouble with was in the aria from Sappho, because I sing it legato and use the line, and a portamento effect, to keep it anchored.  So I can do that with the Seguidilla.  I will just ignore the staccati once I progress to the E, take a breath before hand, and make a nice swoopy scale.  And ignore the grace note.

I think what's at issue here is that I realized what I want most is to make a mark somehow as a performing artist.  When all is said and done it doesn't matter if I sing this or that operatic role.  I don't think I could be happy singing nothing but church solos because I have too flamboyant a personality.  But, for example, I could be totally happy taking this pastiche of spoken word and song that revolves around Carmen into various educational venues (my new mentor could help me with that) wearing a fabulous costume and even (just for instance) omit that page of the Seguidilla with the high note entirely.  There are all kinds of things I could do.  I could learn the original Habanera that Elina Garanca sings on her recording.  And combine both Habaneras with the songs by Manuel Garcia from the Spanish song book that I bought.  So there is any number of things to do where I can satisfy  my need to sing, to sparkle, to be center stage, to have fun, and to make an art form the centerpiece of my life.

The Year of Self-Esteem

At the beginning of this year, I made a number of  New Year's resolutions, most of which had to do with nurturing my self-esteem, as I wrote here.

I began with removing people from my Facebook friends list who never commented on anything I wrote, and continued on with my resolve by "unsubscribing" from the email list of opera companies that had treated me badly.  What's interesting is that in both instances I was asked why I was unsubscribing, and in the first instance I said I had been told by the director that I was too old (not because of how I looked - I was auditioning to sing La Zia Principessa in Suor Angelica - but because I was not a "future investment") and in the second instance I said I had had an unpleasant experience with the company (the one with the orchestra that cast me as Mother Jeanne in Carmelites).  So "good riddance to bad rubbish" as they say.

The latest example of my resolve had to do with someone suggested to me for Micaela in Carmen. Now OK, this is my project, and I am sinking a certain amount of money into it, and this is OK (I would rather do this than audition for a pay to sing - I can choose what role I sing and when we rehearse, and people will treat me respectfully), but I have limits.  The accompanist is, of course charging me a (totally reasonable) fee, and as the tenor I am using is an experienced professional singer who is  probably not that much younger than I am (he is certainly over 40 at any rate) I am not expecting him to contribute.  But when he suggested someone for Micaela (who, based on the year she graduated from college is probably no more than 25 or 26) and she said she didn't want to contribute something (I prorated what I would charge her based on the percentage of singing she would be doing) I really blew my stack.  Not out loud, but enough to make me want to move to an island where no one is under 50, none of us had ever performed professionally, and we can have our own theater/opera company/concert venue or whatever. And I decided to make myself a Facebook "fan" page.  If this young squirt can have a web site full of gushing prose (probably written by her) I can certainly make myself into a public figure if that's what I long for.  Long ago my therapist said to me that I should do something like this.  Because so much of my life feels Wizard of Oz-ish in that the issue isn't that I don't have a voice, it's that I don't have a diploma or a testimonial.

Anyhow, I was hoping not to have to talk to her until I had spoken with the tenor, because she was his pick, but she called me on the phone.  I restrained myself from losing my temper, but instead said that "I would not like myself if  I let someone your age piggyback on a project that I had put a lot of time and money into."  She said she didn't want to "pay to sing" (which actually isn't what I asked her to do; the producer of this concert pointed out that if the young woman went to a coach to learn a role she would have to pay that person, so she could think of this rehearsal accompanist that way).  She did say she respected my honesty and wanted to come to the concert.  And I think she is working as a waitress.  She does seem to have gotten cast in one of those community opera productions of the sort that were not interested in me (this particular one doesn't ring a bell) and she has a lovely voice, but then so do lots of young women. I wonder where she will be at my age?  Any happier or more successful?

In other news, I was pleased to see that there will, in fact, be no solos for Good Friday.  The music by Mendelssohn that we are singing is taken from Elijah and other of his oratorios and is in four parts, so I am singing alto.  That is fine.  The part is mostly in a middle register (not down in the basement) and I can enjoy having the biggest voice in the alto section.  There are already three trained singers in the soprano section (who all sing first, so I am in my element leading second) and only one in the alto section who has had some health problems and does not sing out full voice all the time.  And I may still get a solo spot on Maundy Thursday.

Carmen Update and A(nother) Reflection on Today's Young People

Yesterday evening I had a coaching session with the concert producer on the duet "Je Vais Danser en Votre Honneur".  Some interesting things came up.  First, she pointed out that the lower middle part of my range is not strong, so I need to sing all the "La la las" differently.  She said rather than sticking to where the "l"s are in the score, I should put in as many as I want to make the sound more pointed.  Also, I realized that the two pages of "La la las" are not all that interesting musically, so I will need to do something (aka act sexy and move around) to keep the piece vibrant.  She also suggested having the pianist play my notes underneath.  And she said she herself might play castanets!  For some of the later parts of the duet, she also said I should sing the optional higher notes.  These are not high notes; mostly Ds, Es, and one F.  She said she will get back to me regarding where to sing the higher, rather than the lower notes.  As a point of interest, she said she thinks that even though I have a mezzo range, my voice has a soprano color.  Now this could be said of many mezzos with voices of all sizes, including Ebe Stignani, whom years ago I was told I sounded like. It's so odd; I get so many conflicting messages about my voice type; the only thing that's consistent is that no matter what I do with my voice, it doesn't really function outside the Wikipedia mezzo range from low A to high A.

The other thing I've been doing is tightening up the selections I've made from the book.  I have really enjoyed this because it allows me to use the skills I use as a playwright.

So now I really need to dig into this duet!  One thing I am grateful to my choir director for is that he has taught me how to work on music: first the rhythm, then the words, then the notes.  I don't yet have any tools for memorizing, but I will figure it out (it's the words I have trouble memorizing, not the music).

As for how things are shaping up, here's a rundown:

Habanera (could sing in my sleep)
Sequidilla (need to learn the recit and, well, just accept that the B at the end is dicey - or transpose the page down.  I will ask the producer what she thinks.)
Chanson Boheme (in good shape; I may be able to get the Micaela to sing the bridges between the verses)
Je Vais Danser (need to learn from the score, not just by ear, and memorize the words)
Card Aria (may cut; if we keep it, need to memorize).
Death Scene (need to memorize)

We now have a narrator.  She is only 18!!!! (but in all fairness looks older; I would say mid 20s).  She is going to be a musical theater major at a prestigious university, and already has an amazingly pure, well-trained, and facile voice.  It is a small voice, but it sparkles like a jewel, with a flute-like extension at the top that I would kill for (some mezzos have it, but it is often not integrated with the rest of their voice).  She is equally at home singing in the classical style and belting.  She has been performing in public since she was 11, and received intensive vocal training in high school, similar to what young people get in conservatory pre-college programs.  She is really not that different from the two young women who became "stars" in the choir (one left for a paying church job).  Young, trained from a early age, able to sing classical music and to belt, with a focused sound throughout their ranges.

It is in the presence of this that I feel so inadequate.  Voices that are built as they are growing, and molded in the right direction, have something that voices that are discovered when a lot of damage is done and bad habits are ingrained, never will.  There are notes in my range that are full, ones that are not, notes that sound lovely, ones that often do not, passages that are still effortful, no matter how many approaches I try.  Something analogous is that I have very bad scoliosis.  That is why I keep getting shorter and why my legs are not the same length.  Nowadays this can be corrected in young people either with braces, or, as a last resort, surgery.  When I was growing up there wasn't even a name for it.  I just thought I was "klutzy", whereas in point of fact my body was out of alignment.  Everything starts so young now.  The preparation for future excellence doesn't even begin at 18 or 20 the way it did when I was growing up (of course there was always an exception for ballet, certain sports, and playing musical instruments) but now begins practically in grade school.  For example both the star sopranos who took the choir by storm had been singing seriously since before puberty. No one any more has a chance if they discover their passion at 30 or 40, not to mention over 50.  It isn't just "ageism"; it's that muscles are harder to train and shape.

So let's just hope that the musical, artistic, and literary wisdom that I've acquired over all these decades makes my age an asset, since in the scheme of things it is nothing but a liability.

20 Feet from Stardom

Yesterday I saw the movie 20 Feet from Stardom. I don't follow pop music, and loathe the white countercultural music from my generation which I associate with drugs and pretentiousness (and the message to "turn on, tune in, and drop out" that for me was so deadly and had lifelong consequences).  But I always loved Motown its immediate predecessors, like early Tina Turner.  And listening to that music during the peak of the civil rights movement, when girls like that in my school glee club were the chosen few, it brings up a lot of feelings of sadness and old envy.  Also, watching this movie I could really see and hear the throughline from African American (and by extension other) church choir music to this type of pop music.  I may not have heard it before because I did not sing in choirs as a young person, other than the Unitarian church choir which did not sing that type of music.  Which explains why these singers (they were mostly women) looked wholesome and healthy even today in their 70s.

And for the first time, I will humbly say, I was able to really hear and appreciate the artistry these singers were capable of. Lisa Fischer, for example, has a dynamic and vocal range to rival any opera singer's, including the most glorious spun pianissimi.

Much of the movie dealt with themes I have been grappling with: being a backup singer when you are in your soul a soloist; the soloist temperament (which I have to the tenth power); having a "fire in  your belly" that you can't ignore - it will come back to bite you decades later if you do; and, most inspiring, being able to be at the top of your game in your 60s and 70s.

A must see.

Now I am off to run through the Carmen/Don Jose duet and work with one of the people I am considering for a narrator.

Long-Overdue Update on Health, Carmen, and the Plight of Mezzi

I haven't written anything here for a long time, probably because I have been reasonably happy and busy.

The biggest change that has happened is that last week I went to see an ENT because I was having to constantly clear my throat (a separate issue from the heavy sinus drainage, which I can keep mostly under control with the Neti Pot).  I had no idea what she would find, but what she did find was, first (the good news) a pair of pristine looking vocal cords and second (the bad news) that I have laryngoesophageal reflux (who knew?) which means I have to follow certain dietary restrictions.  The main one is that she wants me to drink 8 glasses of water a day (I've heard this mentioned and always thought it was a myth, that this is a healthy thing to do) and to stop all fruit juices and acidic fruit (meaning no fruit other than melons or pears, or bananas, which I don't think of as "fruit" because they're not juicy).  Also to cut back on tomatoes, salad dressings, and various spices.  She also told me to cut back on coffee but I told her this was no deal.  For me coffee is a rich dessert (I drink flavored coffee with vanilla soy milk), an antidepressant, and an ADD medicine all rolled into one, so I ain't giving it up.

Well, to my pleasant surprise, I feel a lot better and am not clearing my throat all the time.  I have less sinus drainage also.  And if I drink water even when I'm not thirsty (something I had no idea I was supposed to do) I don't get that intense dry throat that made me crave juice (mostly mango nectar) to begin with.  I haven't really noticed any difference in my singing (my easy vocalizing still stops squarely on a B and my ability to pluck a note out of the air stops squarely on an A) but probably if I had kept up that constant throat clearing it would have had an adverse effect.

Now as for Carmen, things are moving ahead and going well.  The tenor is on board to sing in the big concert as well as at the musicale.  I have one candidate for a reader.  And we will probably have a Micaela.  And I am sooo enjoying working on this!  And my partner is being (amazingly) supportive.

Last but not least, my struggle for visibility at the church still continues (I know Lent is a time to look at one's character flaws, but a pushy soloist I am and I pushy soloist I will stay).  After this morning yet again having to sing under a high soprano descant sung by a single soloist (referred to jokingly as an "Olympic Event") I was really fuming.  If the communal voice is more important than the solo voice this should not be taken to mean, to paraphrase George Orwell, everyone is equal but high sopranos are more equal than others.

Anyhow, I was ticked off enough that I thought I would speak to the choir director again (rather than waiting until Wednesday) about singing "O Rest in the Lord" or "Woe Unto Them" and he said he would look into it.  He thinks there might be a spot on Maundy Thursday even though that is being led by the director of the other choir.

What I can't figure out (more navel gazing) is whether what bothers me is that this young soprano sings better than I do (she does; however I am still one of the top five singers in this choir of about 20 and  the star turns should be more equally spread around) or whether what bothers me is all the attention she gets.  Certainly it bothers me that someone her age sings better than I do.  I have been studying, even this time around, longer than she has and people have told me the fact that I smoked over 30 years ago should not be a handicap.

On the other hand, all this has strengthened my resolve that other than the precious life of my loved one, singing is the most important thing in the entire world to me and that I will do it until I drop dead, if it means never again eating a mango; if it means waking up at 6 am when we've turned the clock ahead so that I can warm up; and if it means putting as much money, time, and ingenuity into a vanity concert as professionals put into anything they do.