Anyone who has been a reader of this blog, knows how long and hard I have struggled with the Amneris/Radames duet with the two high B flats.
Yesterday, as I don't have anything on my schedule to sing, I thought I would just give it a go and see if all the new technical things I have learned would allow me to sing through this as easily as I have been singing other things.
And - yes!!
OK, one swallow doesn't make a summer, but I was able to do the following:
1. Keep my jaw relaxed and not pound on those repeating E flats at the beginning "Chi ti salva".
2. Keep my jaw relaxed full stop.
3. Sing it sad instead of angry. I actually don't know what it sounds like to an audience (this is too technically difficult to sing in front of the ipad, which would be too distracting) but if I feel sad (and yes, she can be sad!! she is telling him that no one can save him now if he won't give up Aida) everything relaxes instead of tensing up the way it does if I am angry.
4. Sing the ascending scale on "aw" not "or dal ciel" (no one sings it as written anyhow) and not take a breath. Catch breaths can be fatal.
5. Keep my larynx down and raise my palate as I ascend the scale.
Everything just feels about 20 pounds lighter.
So what I have to do now, just like someone who's lost body weight, is believe that this is me, now. That I don't need all that weight, all that tension, and all that work. The work has been done. I just have to relax now.
I will take the piece to my lesson tomorrow and see what happens.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Friday, May 22, 2015
The Best So Far
Yesterday's concert went really well. All the technical progress I made held and I wasn't even affected by nerves once I got past the sustained high A in the Bolena recitative.
A number of people from the choir, whom I was not expecting, came, which touched me very much. Several of them had never come to anything I sang in.
My teacher was pleased, and a neighbor of his, who had heard me sing in the Verdi Requiem and told him I didn't sound all that good, told him I sounded much better. And considering that she had been Marilyn Horne's nanny and traveled all over Europe on the opera circuit, that is saying something.
One big disappointment is that there is no video. The one woman who usually does things like that apparently left her phone at home. My teacher recorded it, and will burn a CD, so that means that I can make mp3 files from it, somehow (either my sound engineer friend can do it, or he can explain to me how to do it, or he can tell me where to take it to have it done).
So now I have to work not to fall into postpartum depression. I think I had such a big letdown after Carmen because the woman who produced it was angry that not a lot of people came, and then when I got back to choir all the buzz was about Little Miss's recital. She is doing something again (with the company that rejected me for not being a "future investment") but at least since five people came from the choir (no one from the choir came to Carmen although two women from church whom I knew from the writing class did) there may be some buzz.
The pianist (the same one who played for Carmen) was pleased with how things went and when I spoke with him about doing the Carmen piece again (I said I thought it had "legs") he told me to contact him because he might be able to find out a way to produce this in schools (he works as an accompanist and coach at the conservatory where Little Miss is a student and I know they produced Hansel and Gretel in schools). So I will do that. Also, apparently my Don Jose spoke to my teacher (they are friends and colleagues) and said he had gotten my email about the Mozart Requiem and that he would get back to me. (The performances are in February so they may have more auditions.)
And the choir is singing a choral piece from Elijah again so I will see if I can sing "O Rest in the Lord" on the same day, or perhaps the Schlosser piece "He that Keepeth Israel".
And here's a photo of me and my teacher, which his wife took.
A number of people from the choir, whom I was not expecting, came, which touched me very much. Several of them had never come to anything I sang in.
My teacher was pleased, and a neighbor of his, who had heard me sing in the Verdi Requiem and told him I didn't sound all that good, told him I sounded much better. And considering that she had been Marilyn Horne's nanny and traveled all over Europe on the opera circuit, that is saying something.
One big disappointment is that there is no video. The one woman who usually does things like that apparently left her phone at home. My teacher recorded it, and will burn a CD, so that means that I can make mp3 files from it, somehow (either my sound engineer friend can do it, or he can explain to me how to do it, or he can tell me where to take it to have it done).
So now I have to work not to fall into postpartum depression. I think I had such a big letdown after Carmen because the woman who produced it was angry that not a lot of people came, and then when I got back to choir all the buzz was about Little Miss's recital. She is doing something again (with the company that rejected me for not being a "future investment") but at least since five people came from the choir (no one from the choir came to Carmen although two women from church whom I knew from the writing class did) there may be some buzz.
The pianist (the same one who played for Carmen) was pleased with how things went and when I spoke with him about doing the Carmen piece again (I said I thought it had "legs") he told me to contact him because he might be able to find out a way to produce this in schools (he works as an accompanist and coach at the conservatory where Little Miss is a student and I know they produced Hansel and Gretel in schools). So I will do that. Also, apparently my Don Jose spoke to my teacher (they are friends and colleagues) and said he had gotten my email about the Mozart Requiem and that he would get back to me. (The performances are in February so they may have more auditions.)
And the choir is singing a choral piece from Elijah again so I will see if I can sing "O Rest in the Lord" on the same day, or perhaps the Schlosser piece "He that Keepeth Israel".
And here's a photo of me and my teacher, which his wife took.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
First Rehearsal Went Well! Can This Be the "New Normal"?
After not being able to sing for a week, and practicing very carefully, I sang through the entire concert program yesterday, and with one or two exceptions, I was thrilled with how things sounded.
For starters, the Bolena duet, which is in a high tessitura, sounded fabulous and felt so easy! The sustained high A in the opening recit felt like I could hold it forever. It just sailed up into some head space that I never had before and shimmered. This is the sound I have longed for for so many years and could never find. It can't all be because of my cleaning out my sinuses with the Neti pot, can it? I have also been taking Mucinex twice a day now. Maybe that helps also. Maybe I should just take it forever. It seems like a pretty benign medication. Of course I am sure a lot of it is technique, and learning new muscle habits. Laura's aria didn't sound quite as good, probably because I use a heavier sound and it is something I sang for the first time in 1980, then sang a lot in my early days of study this time around.
The only thing that did not sound good was the Dalila and Daddy duet. I am still having some trouble with my lower passagio (not the lowest notes, but the notes around E and F at the bottom of the staff) and at one point my voice actually cracked on an F. But I would rather have to deal with that than with high notes not happening. I also need to work on the run at the end of the duet. It starts on middle C and goes up to a high A flat and back down. The problem is, I think, that that duet uses a heavy sound in a low tessitura and suddenly I have to get my voice to move. I had no trouble with the ornamented phrases in the Bolena.
So now the question is: will this new technical proficiency, particularly with my top notes and the big head space that I have found (and I have a tiny little head, not your normal singer shape with wide cheekbones) become the "new normal"? Will I be able to replicate what I did yesterday?
Here are three signs that things are going well. The pianist, who hasn't heard me since Carmen, told me how good I sounded. My teacher said he was pleased. My teacher invited a lot of his friends.
I only hope that someone will make a video, even just a cell phone video. My teacher said he will make a "recording" but that means a CD, which is not something I can use for post and boast (presuming that there is something to boast about!!!) And at the very least I hope someone takes a still photo. The lack of these things is one of the many things about being my age that are a bummer. I don't have techie friends.
For starters, the Bolena duet, which is in a high tessitura, sounded fabulous and felt so easy! The sustained high A in the opening recit felt like I could hold it forever. It just sailed up into some head space that I never had before and shimmered. This is the sound I have longed for for so many years and could never find. It can't all be because of my cleaning out my sinuses with the Neti pot, can it? I have also been taking Mucinex twice a day now. Maybe that helps also. Maybe I should just take it forever. It seems like a pretty benign medication. Of course I am sure a lot of it is technique, and learning new muscle habits. Laura's aria didn't sound quite as good, probably because I use a heavier sound and it is something I sang for the first time in 1980, then sang a lot in my early days of study this time around.
The only thing that did not sound good was the Dalila and Daddy duet. I am still having some trouble with my lower passagio (not the lowest notes, but the notes around E and F at the bottom of the staff) and at one point my voice actually cracked on an F. But I would rather have to deal with that than with high notes not happening. I also need to work on the run at the end of the duet. It starts on middle C and goes up to a high A flat and back down. The problem is, I think, that that duet uses a heavy sound in a low tessitura and suddenly I have to get my voice to move. I had no trouble with the ornamented phrases in the Bolena.
So now the question is: will this new technical proficiency, particularly with my top notes and the big head space that I have found (and I have a tiny little head, not your normal singer shape with wide cheekbones) become the "new normal"? Will I be able to replicate what I did yesterday?
Here are three signs that things are going well. The pianist, who hasn't heard me since Carmen, told me how good I sounded. My teacher said he was pleased. My teacher invited a lot of his friends.
I only hope that someone will make a video, even just a cell phone video. My teacher said he will make a "recording" but that means a CD, which is not something I can use for post and boast (presuming that there is something to boast about!!!) And at the very least I hope someone takes a still photo. The lack of these things is one of the many things about being my age that are a bummer. I don't have techie friends.
Friday, May 8, 2015
Juliet, Cio-CIo San, and the Love that Dare Not Speak Its Name
I haven't written anything here for a long time, because I haven't been singing. Tuesday week I lost my voice to laryngitis, which, I was told by my ENT, whom I saw a few days later, was caused by a virus. My vocal cords were in perfect shape apparently. So I spent a week coughing and spitting and blowing my nose. I sang for the first time this past Wednesday (just a few exercises; I didn't go to choir practice) and had a lesson yesterday. The concert is now only two weeks away. My voice is mostly back (except that I am still coughing and blowing my nose, somewhat) but I need to get my stamina back. Wish me luck please!!
As for the title of this post, as I have not been singing, I have been revisiting my other persona, the writer. Monday I went to look at the performance space, and one of my colleagues from the choir (who lives in the building where the performance space is) agreed to swap plays to read. I gave her Duet, the light and frothy fictionalized version of my experiences with the Mentor, including his $64,000 question, asked with a smirk, after I translated Dalila's aria "My heart opens at your voice like a flower" "So what kind of a flower do you think she's talking about?" It will be interesting to see what she makes of it. Maybe she will have an idea for someplace that wants to produce it. Rather ironically, her play was produced in a church where a friend of the Mentor is the music director. Wouldn't it be rich if it were produced there??
Her play was about a Lesbian minister. I don't want to say more than that because there are things that are confidential. In any event, if nothing else, it brought back lots of memories. Back in my activist days, this was exactly the sort of bandwagon I would have loved to jump on with a group of women. I was not raised to be religious, and would not have chosen this as my battleground, but anything high profile where there might be reporters was right up my alley. And in fact we had already been there before. This play was set in the 90s but in the 70s there had already been an ordination of a Lesbian minister (I don't remember with what outcome) and a song was dedicated to the whole thing called "You can't be in the closet with God". It has so fallen off the map that it took me a while to find it online, but I did, and I will give a copy of it to my friend.
Now here's where things get weird. Am I the only person who thinks half the fun of being gay was being an outsider? I don't mean an outsider who will get run out of town on a rail or have my house burned down, but the kind of outsider who is, well, not welcome at family or other "respectable" gatherings. If I had yearned to be part of that world (something I am ambivalent about) I would have married a rich man who would have bought me a brownstone to live in and let me pursue a career in the arts for no money in exchange for supervising the housekeeper and entertaining his business associates. The whole gestalt of being with a woman was that I chose love and romance over respectability and practicality. (I could easily see myself marrying a man I was not in love with for practical reasons, but a woman never!) We didn't want to be invited to the family Thanksgiving. It was much more fun to make our own community get togethers. Like being part of a sect or a cult (which had its downside, I later discovered) or a family of outlaws.
I grew up with Romeo and Juliet, Madama Butterfly and La Traviata. Even though I was never a lyric soprano, there was a period when I played my recording of Butterfly over and over again because almost every word she sings could have been sung by a Lesbian in love. All of it. Being rejected by her family, being told her marriage is not "real". Of course it simplifies things that she kills herself because then she doesn't have to wonder what to do later.
But the point I'm making is that the more "society" didn't want us, the closer we became, either as individual couples or as a community. Being outsiders didn't make it harder to bond as couples, it made it easier because we could set our own terms. (Actually many straight feminists envied us our freedom and open ended approach to relationships and were looking to us for leadership on how to create alternatives to marriage. How ironic!) Now there's nothing. You have women pairing off, getting a marriage license, making nuclear families. The whole thing leaves me totally cold.
But as I said in an earlier post, maybe it's just as well. Thirty-five years ago I gave up singing for my community and it norms. Now I can just sing.
As for the title of this post, as I have not been singing, I have been revisiting my other persona, the writer. Monday I went to look at the performance space, and one of my colleagues from the choir (who lives in the building where the performance space is) agreed to swap plays to read. I gave her Duet, the light and frothy fictionalized version of my experiences with the Mentor, including his $64,000 question, asked with a smirk, after I translated Dalila's aria "My heart opens at your voice like a flower" "So what kind of a flower do you think she's talking about?" It will be interesting to see what she makes of it. Maybe she will have an idea for someplace that wants to produce it. Rather ironically, her play was produced in a church where a friend of the Mentor is the music director. Wouldn't it be rich if it were produced there??
Her play was about a Lesbian minister. I don't want to say more than that because there are things that are confidential. In any event, if nothing else, it brought back lots of memories. Back in my activist days, this was exactly the sort of bandwagon I would have loved to jump on with a group of women. I was not raised to be religious, and would not have chosen this as my battleground, but anything high profile where there might be reporters was right up my alley. And in fact we had already been there before. This play was set in the 90s but in the 70s there had already been an ordination of a Lesbian minister (I don't remember with what outcome) and a song was dedicated to the whole thing called "You can't be in the closet with God". It has so fallen off the map that it took me a while to find it online, but I did, and I will give a copy of it to my friend.
Now here's where things get weird. Am I the only person who thinks half the fun of being gay was being an outsider? I don't mean an outsider who will get run out of town on a rail or have my house burned down, but the kind of outsider who is, well, not welcome at family or other "respectable" gatherings. If I had yearned to be part of that world (something I am ambivalent about) I would have married a rich man who would have bought me a brownstone to live in and let me pursue a career in the arts for no money in exchange for supervising the housekeeper and entertaining his business associates. The whole gestalt of being with a woman was that I chose love and romance over respectability and practicality. (I could easily see myself marrying a man I was not in love with for practical reasons, but a woman never!) We didn't want to be invited to the family Thanksgiving. It was much more fun to make our own community get togethers. Like being part of a sect or a cult (which had its downside, I later discovered) or a family of outlaws.
I grew up with Romeo and Juliet, Madama Butterfly and La Traviata. Even though I was never a lyric soprano, there was a period when I played my recording of Butterfly over and over again because almost every word she sings could have been sung by a Lesbian in love. All of it. Being rejected by her family, being told her marriage is not "real". Of course it simplifies things that she kills herself because then she doesn't have to wonder what to do later.
But the point I'm making is that the more "society" didn't want us, the closer we became, either as individual couples or as a community. Being outsiders didn't make it harder to bond as couples, it made it easier because we could set our own terms. (Actually many straight feminists envied us our freedom and open ended approach to relationships and were looking to us for leadership on how to create alternatives to marriage. How ironic!) Now there's nothing. You have women pairing off, getting a marriage license, making nuclear families. The whole thing leaves me totally cold.
But as I said in an earlier post, maybe it's just as well. Thirty-five years ago I gave up singing for my community and it norms. Now I can just sing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)