Even though I don't consider myself Christian (I do consider myself partially Christian as Unitarianism is a blend of everything), I like the idea of observing Lent. As I jokingly said, observing one or more spiritual disciplines for 40 days definitely beats the Jewish alternative of making yourself sick for 24 hours by not eating or drinking water.
This year there was an article circulating on Facebook about 10 ways to observe Lent, and I have picked four, the last one being the most relevant here.
The first two have to do with not acquiring and getting rid of "stuff", which is always a good thing to do, and the third said "no gossiping". I am not always sure what constitutes "gossiping", but I will try not to pass along stories I have heard about people that sound "juicy" but that come from a third party and may not even be true. I suppose "gossiping" can also be construed to mean repeating things told to one in confidence, which of course I would never do, unless I found a way to tell the story anonymously if I thought it was necessary in a particular context, to help other people.
The fourth observance that I really plan to stick to is "no complaining". For me that means in writing as well as out loud. Who knows? Maybe it will make me feel better. I feel that I am constantly working at feeling grateful, which sometimes feels as hard as working out. I know that a lot of my bad feelings come from what my therapist calls "affluenza" (in my case the issue has less to do with money than with artistic and professional success), that is, being surrounded by extremely successful people all the time because of where I live.
So I will focus on positive things. We got the choir schedule running from Lent through Easter so my task now (in addition to learning all that music) is to look around for an occasion to sing an appropriate solo, either at the regular service when there is no choir or at one of the Spanish services. The "sexy Agnus Dei" is too long, but it might be OK for the Spanish Good Friday service, or I could make a cut in it. I would also love to do the Bach "Qui Sedes" again. Maybe on the Sunday when the choir is not singing (I think the informal choir sings on that day) I could sing it during communion. (I have already sung it in the Spanish service, on Good Friday two years ago.) Or there are two other settings of the "Qui Sedes" text, both by Vivaldi. On Good Friday the choir will be singing the Dvorak Requiem. I am going to see if there is a mezzo solo. If so, I will see what the politic thing to do would be a propos of finding a place to sing it. Or I could look at the Inflammatus from the Dvorak Stabat Mater. This is a favorite with some contraltos I know, but it is not terribly low (in a similar range to "O Rest in the Lord").
Lastly, the issue of Classical Singer for which I was interviewed has come out. The article was about singers who started late. From reading it, I can see that we run the gamut from people who began in their mid 30s who are singing either professionally or in high level amateur productions, to people like me, who really didn't develop our voices fully until we were much older. If there was a takeaway from the article for me, it had less to do with singing per se than with he fact that people (because everyone is living longer) are starting all sorts of things when we're older and it's stupid to write us off. I mean there's the issue of looks, but there's all sorts of classical singing going on where looks shouldn't matter. As I said in my quote about ageism, if it's about looks, that's one thing, but to write people in their 50s and 60s off because we are probably on a downward trajectory is very wrong-headed nowadays.
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Monday, February 16, 2015
More Spit than Polish
I got the video of "Et Exsultavit" back and am giving it a mixed review.
I think I sound much better than the last time I sang it (other than that I gulped for air after the long run; on the other hand I got through it) but I looked like a complete mess.
The temperature had been in the single digits with 40 mph winds (I took a car service to the church) so I was wearing heavy wool pants, a heavy sweater, snow boots, and, when I was outside, a hat, which I never do because I don't want to squish down my hair. My hair is naturally straight as a stick, which I do not like at all, and at some point I got tired of perms (the last ones I got fried my hair but kept it straight notwithstanding; it sort of looked like straightened brillo) so I began putting tiny little foam rollers in it after I washed it. Usually I manage it with a fro pick and hair spray, which is fine if my head is uncovered when I leave the house, if it is not windy or raining. I actually did look in the mirror before the service, but I guess I didn't realize how bad it looked from the sides and in the back.
And often I just look awkward. I look like an older woman with glasses who is not all that graceful. I think that was magnified by the fact that the video was full length rather than just zooming in on my face.
And to boot, the pianist made a mistake while he was accompanying me. This is totally out of character for him. He probably was overextended and we hadn't rehearsed it enough.
Anyhow, what makes me so sad (yet again) is I know I need a lot of polishing that I am not getting and don't know what to do about it or where to get it that is affordable, or even better, that is an organic part of my life.
I had asked to have this video made because I was miffed yet again by a video of Little Miss that someone had circulated, with gushing praise. So I thought, OK, I will have my own video. But it is not good enough to post anywhere, although I did send it to one friend, with various caveats.
The problem is I just don't have the resources I need. I can just about manage to see a voice teacher twice a month and work on technique and repertoire five or six days a week. I am going to take Spanish in the Fall, as the Spanish service is resource-poor venue right now, where I can be appreciated (and one of the coaches I've been to thinks my voice is ideally suited for Spanish art songs) but I don't have either a "team" (like you do in a conservatory) or a personal circle of family and friends who buzz around me fussing with my hair or asking me to stand up in front of them and "present" an aria so they can comment on my body language.
If I want "polish" I need to have these kinds of things going on regularly, not twice a year at best. I didn't even have a personal friend there with me (as distinct from supportive buddies in the congregation) who would have taken me aside and said "BabyD, let me see what we can do with that hair!"
The one woman who did help students with these kinds of things (the coach who told me to work on Spanish songs) is not producing the kinds of concerts or programs that I would be interested in right now. She is producing some kind of a musical comedy, that is definitely not my kind of thing. There are traditional musical theater roles (very few, actually, for older women who sing "legit" - only Nettie in Carousel and the Mother Abbess from Sound of Music come to mind) that I would love to perform, but clowning it up is not my thing.
At least I am (mostly) happy with how I sang that piece. Now I will look for something for Lent, as soon as I get the choir schedule.
ETA: A friend to whom I emailed the video said she really liked how I sounded and complimented me on my posture (!) and said it didn't matter what I was wearing as it was a church service not a concert. So tomorrow I will email it to the pianist and ask if he minds if I post it on Facebook (it was a joint endeavor so I wouldn't post it otherwise). I do plan to email it to my voice teacher, though.
I think I sound much better than the last time I sang it (other than that I gulped for air after the long run; on the other hand I got through it) but I looked like a complete mess.
The temperature had been in the single digits with 40 mph winds (I took a car service to the church) so I was wearing heavy wool pants, a heavy sweater, snow boots, and, when I was outside, a hat, which I never do because I don't want to squish down my hair. My hair is naturally straight as a stick, which I do not like at all, and at some point I got tired of perms (the last ones I got fried my hair but kept it straight notwithstanding; it sort of looked like straightened brillo) so I began putting tiny little foam rollers in it after I washed it. Usually I manage it with a fro pick and hair spray, which is fine if my head is uncovered when I leave the house, if it is not windy or raining. I actually did look in the mirror before the service, but I guess I didn't realize how bad it looked from the sides and in the back.
And often I just look awkward. I look like an older woman with glasses who is not all that graceful. I think that was magnified by the fact that the video was full length rather than just zooming in on my face.
And to boot, the pianist made a mistake while he was accompanying me. This is totally out of character for him. He probably was overextended and we hadn't rehearsed it enough.
Anyhow, what makes me so sad (yet again) is I know I need a lot of polishing that I am not getting and don't know what to do about it or where to get it that is affordable, or even better, that is an organic part of my life.
I had asked to have this video made because I was miffed yet again by a video of Little Miss that someone had circulated, with gushing praise. So I thought, OK, I will have my own video. But it is not good enough to post anywhere, although I did send it to one friend, with various caveats.
The problem is I just don't have the resources I need. I can just about manage to see a voice teacher twice a month and work on technique and repertoire five or six days a week. I am going to take Spanish in the Fall, as the Spanish service is resource-poor venue right now, where I can be appreciated (and one of the coaches I've been to thinks my voice is ideally suited for Spanish art songs) but I don't have either a "team" (like you do in a conservatory) or a personal circle of family and friends who buzz around me fussing with my hair or asking me to stand up in front of them and "present" an aria so they can comment on my body language.
If I want "polish" I need to have these kinds of things going on regularly, not twice a year at best. I didn't even have a personal friend there with me (as distinct from supportive buddies in the congregation) who would have taken me aside and said "BabyD, let me see what we can do with that hair!"
The one woman who did help students with these kinds of things (the coach who told me to work on Spanish songs) is not producing the kinds of concerts or programs that I would be interested in right now. She is producing some kind of a musical comedy, that is definitely not my kind of thing. There are traditional musical theater roles (very few, actually, for older women who sing "legit" - only Nettie in Carousel and the Mother Abbess from Sound of Music come to mind) that I would love to perform, but clowning it up is not my thing.
At least I am (mostly) happy with how I sang that piece. Now I will look for something for Lent, as soon as I get the choir schedule.
ETA: A friend to whom I emailed the video said she really liked how I sounded and complimented me on my posture (!) and said it didn't matter what I was wearing as it was a church service not a concert. So tomorrow I will email it to the pianist and ask if he minds if I post it on Facebook (it was a joint endeavor so I wouldn't post it otherwise). I do plan to email it to my voice teacher, though.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Transfiguration Sunday
I have had a very stressful few days, emotionally. Right now I feel like I've been through a wringer.
Just as I was really feeling happy for the first time in a long time, one of my Facebook friends reposted a blog entry by the woman I refer to as "Miss Blowhard" (a singer with a minor career - albeit a gorgeous voice - who is also a teacher and writer) about the whole issue of should you/shouldn't you sing for free, which went back and re-hashed the whole bookstore singing gig, which I really thought had been put to bed.
I am not even sure where her post was going, because first she said singers shouldn't sing for free, then she said yes, there were avocational singers and that that was an esteemable thing. She did rehash in great detail a conversation she had with the woman from the publisher stating that she would not let her students (I have no idea what level they are at) sing something like that for free nor would she let them sing at a church for free. In the process of all this she referred to me as "a dedicated avocational singer who appeared to have gotten a lot of enjoyment out of the experience". Part of me feels lucky to have escaped the barbs of her sharp tongue, and that that description of me was "charitable enough". Later, though, I felt that there was something "booby-prizeish" about it and that my considering it a compliment shows how little self esteem I have. I think if that posting had a "point" it was that people were entitled to use avocational singers but that they needed to be "educated" that they then were using a "lower tier of service". So that's what I am then? The Wal-Mart version?
Reading these sorts of things is really not helpful and just makes me unhappy. So, I'm the Wal-Mart version. Can't I have break from being reminded of that? How can being told that possibly help me have a happier life using my talents as best I can?
Then I ended up really losing my temper (figuratively speaking) on Facebook about another perceived diss (I don't want to say who, what, because I learned my lesson about being tactless) and had a tiff with someone that did not do me any favors. We hugged and made up without endless palaver, which is a good thing. It was yet another incident involving Little Miss getting more than her fair share of attention.
Here's what I think bothers me so much, and it really ties all these themes together.
No, I don't think grieving is a good metaphor for whatever it is I'm feeling. It's more like yearning. An enormous yearning that nothing can assuage, that hurts more than anyone will ever know. Yearning for recognition, for attention, for applause (not for nothing, but for all the hard work I've done, and how much better I sound each year than I did the year before, particularly now). And then I realized that this is not the first time I've yearned and yearned and yearned for something I don't or maybe can't have. But this is the first time that I've yearned and yearned and yearned for something for so long and not eventually found a viable substitute, which would then enable me to move on. In high school if I yearned after Charlie and he wouldn't give me a second look, I could date Timmy, and eventually, I would be happy with Timmy. If Beth made me feel fat and coarse, I could stop spending time with her and find a few other friends who thought I was glamorous and interesting. But there is noplace I seem to be able to go with the talents and abilities I have now where they matter all that much. I am not a masochist. At some point I realized I would be happier if I cut myself off from the world of professional singers (or emergings, or semi-pros), stopped reading their posts and stopped going to see performances given by the opera groups that have rejected me. I "unsubscribed" to emails from those groups, finally, so that I would not know what they are doing. But you see, "Little Miss" has brought that world right into what I thought was a "safe haven" where I could be special - a choir that doesn't pay people. And the whole tone has changed, which is why I lost my temper over something basically pretty trivial.
Well, today was Transfiguration Sunday, so maybe I will be transfigured. And soon it will be Lent, so maybe I can meditate on my sins, of which envy is absolutely the biggest.
I actually had a nice day today. I sang "Et Exsultavit" from the Magnificat in D at the Spanish service and everyone loved it. Someone told me I should sing there more often. And I may get a video. And my Spanish is improving. I understood at least half of the sermon. In the Fall I plan to audit a course in Spanish at Hunter College. People over 60 can audit courses there for $65 a semester.
Just as I was really feeling happy for the first time in a long time, one of my Facebook friends reposted a blog entry by the woman I refer to as "Miss Blowhard" (a singer with a minor career - albeit a gorgeous voice - who is also a teacher and writer) about the whole issue of should you/shouldn't you sing for free, which went back and re-hashed the whole bookstore singing gig, which I really thought had been put to bed.
I am not even sure where her post was going, because first she said singers shouldn't sing for free, then she said yes, there were avocational singers and that that was an esteemable thing. She did rehash in great detail a conversation she had with the woman from the publisher stating that she would not let her students (I have no idea what level they are at) sing something like that for free nor would she let them sing at a church for free. In the process of all this she referred to me as "a dedicated avocational singer who appeared to have gotten a lot of enjoyment out of the experience". Part of me feels lucky to have escaped the barbs of her sharp tongue, and that that description of me was "charitable enough". Later, though, I felt that there was something "booby-prizeish" about it and that my considering it a compliment shows how little self esteem I have. I think if that posting had a "point" it was that people were entitled to use avocational singers but that they needed to be "educated" that they then were using a "lower tier of service". So that's what I am then? The Wal-Mart version?
Reading these sorts of things is really not helpful and just makes me unhappy. So, I'm the Wal-Mart version. Can't I have break from being reminded of that? How can being told that possibly help me have a happier life using my talents as best I can?
Then I ended up really losing my temper (figuratively speaking) on Facebook about another perceived diss (I don't want to say who, what, because I learned my lesson about being tactless) and had a tiff with someone that did not do me any favors. We hugged and made up without endless palaver, which is a good thing. It was yet another incident involving Little Miss getting more than her fair share of attention.
Here's what I think bothers me so much, and it really ties all these themes together.
No, I don't think grieving is a good metaphor for whatever it is I'm feeling. It's more like yearning. An enormous yearning that nothing can assuage, that hurts more than anyone will ever know. Yearning for recognition, for attention, for applause (not for nothing, but for all the hard work I've done, and how much better I sound each year than I did the year before, particularly now). And then I realized that this is not the first time I've yearned and yearned and yearned for something I don't or maybe can't have. But this is the first time that I've yearned and yearned and yearned for something for so long and not eventually found a viable substitute, which would then enable me to move on. In high school if I yearned after Charlie and he wouldn't give me a second look, I could date Timmy, and eventually, I would be happy with Timmy. If Beth made me feel fat and coarse, I could stop spending time with her and find a few other friends who thought I was glamorous and interesting. But there is noplace I seem to be able to go with the talents and abilities I have now where they matter all that much. I am not a masochist. At some point I realized I would be happier if I cut myself off from the world of professional singers (or emergings, or semi-pros), stopped reading their posts and stopped going to see performances given by the opera groups that have rejected me. I "unsubscribed" to emails from those groups, finally, so that I would not know what they are doing. But you see, "Little Miss" has brought that world right into what I thought was a "safe haven" where I could be special - a choir that doesn't pay people. And the whole tone has changed, which is why I lost my temper over something basically pretty trivial.
Well, today was Transfiguration Sunday, so maybe I will be transfigured. And soon it will be Lent, so maybe I can meditate on my sins, of which envy is absolutely the biggest.
I actually had a nice day today. I sang "Et Exsultavit" from the Magnificat in D at the Spanish service and everyone loved it. Someone told me I should sing there more often. And I may get a video. And my Spanish is improving. I understood at least half of the sermon. In the Fall I plan to audit a course in Spanish at Hunter College. People over 60 can audit courses there for $65 a semester.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Not Grieving Today
I feel the need to drop by today to reassure readers after that lengthy and perhaps maudlin post of yesterday (although I didn't mean it to be such; it was more of an essay on the nature of grieving than a plaint), that today I am feeling really happy.
First I have to say that some of the personnel changes at the church that are in progress are making a difference.
The new Director of Music Ministries was trained as a choral conductor. He teaches at a city college and directs their community chorus. Community choruses are often places where late blooming talent blooms, so I feel that he can relate.
Last night this new Director led the choir and it just "felt" different. He got there late and told us to "warm up on our own" so Little Miss (the one he had called because her boyfriend works at the church and therefore she has keys) and I actually led the warmups as a group effort!! It was fun. And when we got to singing the choral pieces I never felt that I had to pretend to sound like a light soprano or I would get a snarky look. I just sang with my real voice and followed the dynamics. And you had better believe that people noticed that in one place there was an E at the bottom of the staff that I was able to hold for four (slow) measures.
After rehearsal we went through "Et Exsultavit" for the Spanish service. It was fun, and he provided a supportive accompaniment. I didn't worry that I was singing too loud, I just went with the flow of the piece (and, in the Director's words "nailed" that long run).
After that I just blurted out "now I have to find something to sing for Lent". So we discussed different denominations' take on Lent and the music they wanted to use. Then I asked him if he had ever heard the "sexy Agnus dei"
http://youtu.be/LMO9Yk41LUM
He told me yes, that he had done the choral version with one of his community choruses (I don't know if this was as a director or a chorister). And I. may. get. to. sing. it. this. Lent. Not with the choral backup, and perhaps with a cut, but it is a possiblitiy!!!. And if not, I will find something else.
First I have to say that some of the personnel changes at the church that are in progress are making a difference.
The new Director of Music Ministries was trained as a choral conductor. He teaches at a city college and directs their community chorus. Community choruses are often places where late blooming talent blooms, so I feel that he can relate.
Last night this new Director led the choir and it just "felt" different. He got there late and told us to "warm up on our own" so Little Miss (the one he had called because her boyfriend works at the church and therefore she has keys) and I actually led the warmups as a group effort!! It was fun. And when we got to singing the choral pieces I never felt that I had to pretend to sound like a light soprano or I would get a snarky look. I just sang with my real voice and followed the dynamics. And you had better believe that people noticed that in one place there was an E at the bottom of the staff that I was able to hold for four (slow) measures.
After rehearsal we went through "Et Exsultavit" for the Spanish service. It was fun, and he provided a supportive accompaniment. I didn't worry that I was singing too loud, I just went with the flow of the piece (and, in the Director's words "nailed" that long run).
After that I just blurted out "now I have to find something to sing for Lent". So we discussed different denominations' take on Lent and the music they wanted to use. Then I asked him if he had ever heard the "sexy Agnus dei"
http://youtu.be/LMO9Yk41LUM
He told me yes, that he had done the choral version with one of his community choruses (I don't know if this was as a director or a chorister). And I. may. get. to. sing. it. this. Lent. Not with the choral backup, and perhaps with a cut, but it is a possiblitiy!!!. And if not, I will find something else.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Grieving: Is it a Bad Metaphor?
Yesterday for the first time I was really angry with my therapist.
She had told me that the fact that I was angry so much of the time meant that I probably felt sad (true), and that maybe I needed to do "grief work" about my past mistakes.
What possible purpose could that have, other than to make me feel worse?
I told her that I thought that was the wrong model. If I were really grieving (over the loss of a loved one), the "silver lining" would be all the support I would get. True, I didn't get much of that when my mother died, but then we really didn't like each other (she wanted to control me, I resented her) so in a way it was disingenuous for me to have been miffed that her friends didn't offer "condolences". On the other hand I think I had a right to be appalled by their lack of manners. Sitting and watching someone die in an environment where you get no sleep and there is no food or caffeine in the house is stressful, and deserving of sympathy however much you did or did not love the person who died. I did my duty. The last words my mother heard were my saying "I love you".
But I know that if my partner died (a real possibility as she is 80) I would get support. I could cry as much as I wanted and no one would yell at me to pull up my socks and get on with it. People would understand. I would get invitations. I could join a support group.
I could even do these things if I were grieving a breakup, a job loss, or the loss of my home.
But about the past????
One thing that I found shocking, but telling, was how many people got angry with me, mostly at the other blogging place (which is why I ended up deleting that blog), but also on Facebook, because I expressed regrets, sadness, and anger about all the bridges I burned regarding my talent as a singer (I am talking about between the ages of 14 and 30). About my attempts to do something now and how almost all of them have been thwarted (except that I keep singing better and better, particularly this past year). I don't know what it says about me, or the other people involved, but I find it bizarre that people who hardly knew me (and didn't know me at all in real life) thought it was ok to give me insulting and humiliating lectures about my expressing my sadness and anger. I couldn't imagine doing that to someone. I have said, in person, to numerous people (mostly decades ago when I was active in 12 step programs) that I didn't want to hear any more about _________, because they had been talking about it for [a year, two years, 5 years] and never seemed to do anything about it. But if I get bored or annoyed by someone's blog posts, I can just skim and move on, or unfriend or unfollow them. But a lecture??? One of these told me I had no right to complain because of all the people who had suffered real tragedies (and then she went on the enumerate friends and relatives of hers who had experienced everything from agonizing cancer deaths, to loss of limbs, to seeing a relative shot).
I don't think my own personal friends would be quite that uncharitable, but as I explained to my therapist, they would not provide any kind of support system around this grieving process. They are for the most part extremely sympathetic about my problems with my partner, my physical challenges in dealing with bad weather, even the feeling of isolation that I have working at home. But any time I have broached this subject (except with one woman who began singing late as well) the responses I get vary from telling me to "stay in the now" (a 12 step slogan), to politely changing the subject. One woman even said "je ne regrette rien" in a snotty tone (this was in writing) and blew me off about the whole subject despite that she herself was a therapist. And there are no bereavement groups for failed performing artists, I might add.
Also, what would constitute "closure"? When a loved one dies (or you lose a job or a relationship) you grieve, and even though you may never "move on" (particularly in the case of losing a loved one who dies unexpectedly and too soon) eventually life "happens" and you get distracted, even for a little while. Yes, things remind you of your loss, and that may always happen, but as time goes by it happens a little less.
So where is the analogy? I am not going to give up singing. I have worked too hard and made too much progress, and, for example, being able now, to open up my mouth and wait out a high B flat with little effort feels too good to stop now. I have tried to shut out the whole world of "singers on the professional cusp" (the ones I feel the most competitive with; obviously I am not competing with Jamie Barton!!) whether on Facebook, my blog feed, or elsewhere (unless they have personally been kind to me), and have pretty much stopped going to hear performances that these singers appear in.
Then there's choir. It is my anchor right now for a variety of reasons and I am not going to give that up either. Of course the way the director behaves with Little Miss is galling. (The Wednesday before the "Gloria" he buzzed around her anxiously asking her to reassure him that she would be there because there were only two other sopranos. There were nine altos, including me, so we were expendable. I fantasized about falling into a snow drift on the way there and staying there until noon but decided that that would be "cutting off my nose to spite my face". I actually did deliberately leave the house late, but somehow managed to get there only 5 minutes after "call" and nothing had started yet.)
So what exactly is going to "happen" to move things along after I start this so-called "grieving process" anyhow? Nothing "happens" to stay at home freelancers who spend most of the rest of their time taking care of a loved one. And anyhow I think it would be disrespectful of people who are really grieving to use that nomenclature.
All that being said, being a dutiful patient (or "client" as they are called now), I looked up "grief" online. I tried variations such as "grieving process" and "grieving over past mistakes". (All I got from the latter was an article on things one wished one had said to or done for someone who has died.)
So now I have gone from - I suppose - grieving, to brooding about grieving.
If only someone would "get" it. I'm not just being a nuisance or a bore.
She had told me that the fact that I was angry so much of the time meant that I probably felt sad (true), and that maybe I needed to do "grief work" about my past mistakes.
What possible purpose could that have, other than to make me feel worse?
I told her that I thought that was the wrong model. If I were really grieving (over the loss of a loved one), the "silver lining" would be all the support I would get. True, I didn't get much of that when my mother died, but then we really didn't like each other (she wanted to control me, I resented her) so in a way it was disingenuous for me to have been miffed that her friends didn't offer "condolences". On the other hand I think I had a right to be appalled by their lack of manners. Sitting and watching someone die in an environment where you get no sleep and there is no food or caffeine in the house is stressful, and deserving of sympathy however much you did or did not love the person who died. I did my duty. The last words my mother heard were my saying "I love you".
But I know that if my partner died (a real possibility as she is 80) I would get support. I could cry as much as I wanted and no one would yell at me to pull up my socks and get on with it. People would understand. I would get invitations. I could join a support group.
I could even do these things if I were grieving a breakup, a job loss, or the loss of my home.
But about the past????
One thing that I found shocking, but telling, was how many people got angry with me, mostly at the other blogging place (which is why I ended up deleting that blog), but also on Facebook, because I expressed regrets, sadness, and anger about all the bridges I burned regarding my talent as a singer (I am talking about between the ages of 14 and 30). About my attempts to do something now and how almost all of them have been thwarted (except that I keep singing better and better, particularly this past year). I don't know what it says about me, or the other people involved, but I find it bizarre that people who hardly knew me (and didn't know me at all in real life) thought it was ok to give me insulting and humiliating lectures about my expressing my sadness and anger. I couldn't imagine doing that to someone. I have said, in person, to numerous people (mostly decades ago when I was active in 12 step programs) that I didn't want to hear any more about _________, because they had been talking about it for [a year, two years, 5 years] and never seemed to do anything about it. But if I get bored or annoyed by someone's blog posts, I can just skim and move on, or unfriend or unfollow them. But a lecture??? One of these told me I had no right to complain because of all the people who had suffered real tragedies (and then she went on the enumerate friends and relatives of hers who had experienced everything from agonizing cancer deaths, to loss of limbs, to seeing a relative shot).
I don't think my own personal friends would be quite that uncharitable, but as I explained to my therapist, they would not provide any kind of support system around this grieving process. They are for the most part extremely sympathetic about my problems with my partner, my physical challenges in dealing with bad weather, even the feeling of isolation that I have working at home. But any time I have broached this subject (except with one woman who began singing late as well) the responses I get vary from telling me to "stay in the now" (a 12 step slogan), to politely changing the subject. One woman even said "je ne regrette rien" in a snotty tone (this was in writing) and blew me off about the whole subject despite that she herself was a therapist. And there are no bereavement groups for failed performing artists, I might add.
Also, what would constitute "closure"? When a loved one dies (or you lose a job or a relationship) you grieve, and even though you may never "move on" (particularly in the case of losing a loved one who dies unexpectedly and too soon) eventually life "happens" and you get distracted, even for a little while. Yes, things remind you of your loss, and that may always happen, but as time goes by it happens a little less.
So where is the analogy? I am not going to give up singing. I have worked too hard and made too much progress, and, for example, being able now, to open up my mouth and wait out a high B flat with little effort feels too good to stop now. I have tried to shut out the whole world of "singers on the professional cusp" (the ones I feel the most competitive with; obviously I am not competing with Jamie Barton!!) whether on Facebook, my blog feed, or elsewhere (unless they have personally been kind to me), and have pretty much stopped going to hear performances that these singers appear in.
Then there's choir. It is my anchor right now for a variety of reasons and I am not going to give that up either. Of course the way the director behaves with Little Miss is galling. (The Wednesday before the "Gloria" he buzzed around her anxiously asking her to reassure him that she would be there because there were only two other sopranos. There were nine altos, including me, so we were expendable. I fantasized about falling into a snow drift on the way there and staying there until noon but decided that that would be "cutting off my nose to spite my face". I actually did deliberately leave the house late, but somehow managed to get there only 5 minutes after "call" and nothing had started yet.)
So what exactly is going to "happen" to move things along after I start this so-called "grieving process" anyhow? Nothing "happens" to stay at home freelancers who spend most of the rest of their time taking care of a loved one. And anyhow I think it would be disrespectful of people who are really grieving to use that nomenclature.
All that being said, being a dutiful patient (or "client" as they are called now), I looked up "grief" online. I tried variations such as "grieving process" and "grieving over past mistakes". (All I got from the latter was an article on things one wished one had said to or done for someone who has died.)
So now I have gone from - I suppose - grieving, to brooding about grieving.
If only someone would "get" it. I'm not just being a nuisance or a bore.
Thursday, February 5, 2015
Musing on Voice Fachs
In line with my attempt to get more readers by using frequently searched key words in my titles, I have come up with this one. Voice Fachs is certainly a term that people want to know about.
I am a dramatic mezzo-soprano. I have some disagreements with the statements on the page that you get if you click on "dramatic mezzo-soprano" in that I would have chosen different roles and arias (I would not have included Adalgisa and would have included Azucena, for example and I would have used Dolora Zajick as the prime example) but that is my voice fach. I don't (yet) have the range required; I basically sing comfortably in the two octave range from low A to high A (although my B flat is getting better by the minute and I am vocalizing solidly up to a high C every day), but I would most definitely have had the range if I had studied seriously even from my 20s on. Certainly I believe that if I had kept studying I would have had a full dramatic mezzo voice with all its technical capabilities by the time I was 40. (What type of "career" I would have had is anyone's guess, but that's another matter.)
What's frustrating in my life now, is that my primary outlet for singing is a church choir (and the occasional solo).
Most of the time I sing second soprano although if the parts are high, I will sing first alto. If there are only two women's parts I usually sing soprano, which almost never involves singing above a G. This is more satisfying than singing alto because I get to use my head voice regularly, bu if I sing soprano I have to alter the color of my voice to sound like a lyric soprano. Having grown up imitating Julie Andrews and the sopranos on my mother's Gilbert and Sullivan recordings, I know how to do that without choking off my voice, but that sound is not me. If a piece has only two women's parts and the soprano part sits in too high a tessitura (requiring one to "float", say, a high A) I will switch to alto, which is usually frustrating because I never get to sing above a D, and often have to do a lot of singing below middle C or smack in the middle of my lower passaggio break.
So my dramatic mezzo voice is rarely showcased in any way. It's always "sing softly" or "sing lightly", which of course I can do, but again, it is not what I do best.
One of my endless sources of frustration is that in this choir any time someone shows up with a high soprano voice with any training, that person becomes a "Golden Child" and everyone buzzes about and oohs and ahs. So sometimes it feels like there is a choir, which is meant to be a group endeavor (I have certainly had the Diva in me squelched often enough to have had that drummed into me), but that really, to paraphrase George Orwell "Everyone is equal, but the highest soprano is more equal than others."
No one seems to really know that my voice fach is much much rarer than that of a lyric soprano, because the range I sing in is not that different from the ranges of female choral singers with no training.
Ditto when there are solos interspersed into choir pieces. These seem to always be for whoever the highest soprano is that season, never for women with lower voices. If something is marked "solo" and it is written for a woman with a lower voice, the choir director asks everyone to sing it - because they can.
This coming Sunday we will be singing Argento's "Gloria", which, because it is from an opera, sits in a high range for all four parts. So I am singing the alto part which goes repeatedly up to an F sharp. It is a dream of a part for me because it sits in the best part of my voice, but because it is an alto part, I can sing with my real dramatic mezzo voice. And it has high visibility, which is a big treat. But, you see, there are now a total of 9 altos including myself (one of the other second sopranos just decided to switch) and only 3 sopranos. This is of course the exact opposite of how things are in the real classical singing world, where lyric sopranos are plentiful and dramatic mezzos, not to mention contraltos, are rare.
So how do I educate people about the fact that my voice fach is special and unusual?
P.S. This post covers some ground that I have covered in other blog posts, but I have tried to make it more informative and less personal, in case I decide to post it somewhere a little more public.
I am a dramatic mezzo-soprano. I have some disagreements with the statements on the page that you get if you click on "dramatic mezzo-soprano" in that I would have chosen different roles and arias (I would not have included Adalgisa and would have included Azucena, for example and I would have used Dolora Zajick as the prime example) but that is my voice fach. I don't (yet) have the range required; I basically sing comfortably in the two octave range from low A to high A (although my B flat is getting better by the minute and I am vocalizing solidly up to a high C every day), but I would most definitely have had the range if I had studied seriously even from my 20s on. Certainly I believe that if I had kept studying I would have had a full dramatic mezzo voice with all its technical capabilities by the time I was 40. (What type of "career" I would have had is anyone's guess, but that's another matter.)
What's frustrating in my life now, is that my primary outlet for singing is a church choir (and the occasional solo).
Most of the time I sing second soprano although if the parts are high, I will sing first alto. If there are only two women's parts I usually sing soprano, which almost never involves singing above a G. This is more satisfying than singing alto because I get to use my head voice regularly, bu if I sing soprano I have to alter the color of my voice to sound like a lyric soprano. Having grown up imitating Julie Andrews and the sopranos on my mother's Gilbert and Sullivan recordings, I know how to do that without choking off my voice, but that sound is not me. If a piece has only two women's parts and the soprano part sits in too high a tessitura (requiring one to "float", say, a high A) I will switch to alto, which is usually frustrating because I never get to sing above a D, and often have to do a lot of singing below middle C or smack in the middle of my lower passaggio break.
So my dramatic mezzo voice is rarely showcased in any way. It's always "sing softly" or "sing lightly", which of course I can do, but again, it is not what I do best.
One of my endless sources of frustration is that in this choir any time someone shows up with a high soprano voice with any training, that person becomes a "Golden Child" and everyone buzzes about and oohs and ahs. So sometimes it feels like there is a choir, which is meant to be a group endeavor (I have certainly had the Diva in me squelched often enough to have had that drummed into me), but that really, to paraphrase George Orwell "Everyone is equal, but the highest soprano is more equal than others."
No one seems to really know that my voice fach is much much rarer than that of a lyric soprano, because the range I sing in is not that different from the ranges of female choral singers with no training.
Ditto when there are solos interspersed into choir pieces. These seem to always be for whoever the highest soprano is that season, never for women with lower voices. If something is marked "solo" and it is written for a woman with a lower voice, the choir director asks everyone to sing it - because they can.
This coming Sunday we will be singing Argento's "Gloria", which, because it is from an opera, sits in a high range for all four parts. So I am singing the alto part which goes repeatedly up to an F sharp. It is a dream of a part for me because it sits in the best part of my voice, but because it is an alto part, I can sing with my real dramatic mezzo voice. And it has high visibility, which is a big treat. But, you see, there are now a total of 9 altos including myself (one of the other second sopranos just decided to switch) and only 3 sopranos. This is of course the exact opposite of how things are in the real classical singing world, where lyric sopranos are plentiful and dramatic mezzos, not to mention contraltos, are rare.
So how do I educate people about the fact that my voice fach is special and unusual?
P.S. This post covers some ground that I have covered in other blog posts, but I have tried to make it more informative and less personal, in case I decide to post it somewhere a little more public.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Don't Mourn, Organize!
I don't think I have used this phrase as a blog post title, although apparently I quoted it in another post. Good. One thing my therapist told me to do was try to make this blog more searchable through key words. And this is a saying that people will search, albeit for totally other purposes. But then, who knows?
Yesterday I had another "Little Miss"-related source of fury. Apparently she sang something this past Sunday (our choir wasn't there) and someone made a videotape (she has oodles of these whereas I have only one - from church at any rate, and not many more otherwise) and then I saw it because a woman from church (who is actually a personal friend of mine and did come to my Carmen and make a video from her phone, which she posted to my Facebook page although she didn't circulate it) posted it somewhere for public viewing with a gushing paean to Little Miss saying how lucky the church was to have such wonderful young talent.
When I was going over my New Year's resolutions with my therapist, she was confused by number 5
Talk about myself and write about myself broadly. I still believe there is someone out there who would find my whole "package" intriguing, even with all the imperfections and the lack of a traditional history (and the uncertainty of my "future"). Remember, there are guys who love girls with acne and scars (I hope this doesn't offend anyone).
and asked me what I was looking for here, friends? a "guy"? (The latter, no! I used that as a metaphor.)
What I am looking for is someone who is interested in me because I am 64 and singing so much better than I did when I was 54 (in fact, I feel that I have made more progress in the past year than I made in the preceding 9, probably because all those tiny muscles are finally doing what they are supposed to). To stop seeing myself as a less-desirable version of what people desire most: a singer in her 20s or at least her 30s (there are almost no singers in my fach in their 20s), but to see myself as valuable for what I actually am. That was what prompted the comment about acne and scars. I need to appeal to someone - a journalist, a physician, a DMus who is studying older singers - who wants to showcase me (or other people whose studies took a similar trajectory) just the way I am.
The other problem with being older is that younger people (I mean today, in 2015) have access to all sorts of technology, and, more importantly, their friends and family do too (and their family is still living). I am probably more tech savvy than most people my age, because of what I do for a living, but I don't have friends who come to hear me sing equipped with recording devices that they will automatically whip out. The one friend who tried to do this on September 11 had problems, and the woman I referred to earlier managed to make one short video of Carmen but that was it. My teacher always would make an audiotape of my performances but this was in the form of a CD of very poor quality and anyhow CDs have gone the way of the Edsel. Also, young people are more likely to have a gaggle of "fans" whether they be blood relatives, parents, or BFFs who have a quid pro quo setup with attending performances and applauding. My friends who are my age are either too busy or have too many health problems, or would rather go hear free chamber music at Juilliard.
So as for the title of this post, after noticing the video posting (I did not play it or comment on it) I messaged the man who started the Spanish service (who is lovely and always made nice comments about my singing) and asked if he would bring his video camera or phone with video capabilities on the 15th when I am singing "Et Exsultavit" in the Spanish service and he said "it would be his pleasure".
Speaking of "Et Exsultavit", I sang through it after not having sung it for several years and it is like the difference between night and day. I am singing it now with my big, dark, dramatic voice (although it is a melismatic piece, not a dramatic one) and my voice moves as easily as it ever did, and the long run (which many professional singers opt out of and break up) was easier than it ever was, singing full voice with a big pharyngeal space. And Giovanna Seymour continues to rock.
I just now need a claque. One that loves older women.
Yesterday I had another "Little Miss"-related source of fury. Apparently she sang something this past Sunday (our choir wasn't there) and someone made a videotape (she has oodles of these whereas I have only one - from church at any rate, and not many more otherwise) and then I saw it because a woman from church (who is actually a personal friend of mine and did come to my Carmen and make a video from her phone, which she posted to my Facebook page although she didn't circulate it) posted it somewhere for public viewing with a gushing paean to Little Miss saying how lucky the church was to have such wonderful young talent.
When I was going over my New Year's resolutions with my therapist, she was confused by number 5
Talk about myself and write about myself broadly. I still believe there is someone out there who would find my whole "package" intriguing, even with all the imperfections and the lack of a traditional history (and the uncertainty of my "future"). Remember, there are guys who love girls with acne and scars (I hope this doesn't offend anyone).
and asked me what I was looking for here, friends? a "guy"? (The latter, no! I used that as a metaphor.)
What I am looking for is someone who is interested in me because I am 64 and singing so much better than I did when I was 54 (in fact, I feel that I have made more progress in the past year than I made in the preceding 9, probably because all those tiny muscles are finally doing what they are supposed to). To stop seeing myself as a less-desirable version of what people desire most: a singer in her 20s or at least her 30s (there are almost no singers in my fach in their 20s), but to see myself as valuable for what I actually am. That was what prompted the comment about acne and scars. I need to appeal to someone - a journalist, a physician, a DMus who is studying older singers - who wants to showcase me (or other people whose studies took a similar trajectory) just the way I am.
The other problem with being older is that younger people (I mean today, in 2015) have access to all sorts of technology, and, more importantly, their friends and family do too (and their family is still living). I am probably more tech savvy than most people my age, because of what I do for a living, but I don't have friends who come to hear me sing equipped with recording devices that they will automatically whip out. The one friend who tried to do this on September 11 had problems, and the woman I referred to earlier managed to make one short video of Carmen but that was it. My teacher always would make an audiotape of my performances but this was in the form of a CD of very poor quality and anyhow CDs have gone the way of the Edsel. Also, young people are more likely to have a gaggle of "fans" whether they be blood relatives, parents, or BFFs who have a quid pro quo setup with attending performances and applauding. My friends who are my age are either too busy or have too many health problems, or would rather go hear free chamber music at Juilliard.
So as for the title of this post, after noticing the video posting (I did not play it or comment on it) I messaged the man who started the Spanish service (who is lovely and always made nice comments about my singing) and asked if he would bring his video camera or phone with video capabilities on the 15th when I am singing "Et Exsultavit" in the Spanish service and he said "it would be his pleasure".
Speaking of "Et Exsultavit", I sang through it after not having sung it for several years and it is like the difference between night and day. I am singing it now with my big, dark, dramatic voice (although it is a melismatic piece, not a dramatic one) and my voice moves as easily as it ever did, and the long run (which many professional singers opt out of and break up) was easier than it ever was, singing full voice with a big pharyngeal space. And Giovanna Seymour continues to rock.
I just now need a claque. One that loves older women.
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