I am still in a tangle of emotions about Little Miss and her Master Class (for which she had to audition to audition, which means that she is the cream of the crop even at her prestigious conservatory), so the first thing I need to do, since I can't turn the clock back 40 years, or become someone else (a 22 year old with the voice and technique I have now might be nice), I have to ask myself what do I need that I am not getting and how can I give this to myself.
Well, for starters, I am not getting enough opportunities to sing in front of an audience, even an informal one. I stopped going to auditions because I am too old and physically challenged to seriously think I can perform in a costume opera. I stopped going to the two original meetups that I had gone to (one is now defunct) because I felt I was out of my depth. And the one that was more of a mixed group (a mix of ages, abilities, and genres) has now morphed into something else.
If I didn't have so many caregiving responsibilities, I would try to start something myself, but I can't justify doing that and the time it would take (the money I am willing to throw after it, within reason, and if it was a group of peers, I could ask people to chip in).
I feel entitled to produce one big concert a year (this year I'm doing two because of the birthday concert), and after that, what's left other than three church solos a year, one for Advent/Christmas/Epiphany, one for Lent/Holy Week, and one in the summer? Basically nothing any more. So it just isn't enough. I'm not getting "fed" through performing for an audience, and I'm not getting any polishing other than the technical polishing I'm getting from my voice teacher. And the clock is ticking.
It has taken me all this time to have the technique I need (and even that is still a work in progress, but I am light years beyond where I was), and now I need something else.
I mean students like Little Miss get hours of language instruction, performance classes, movement classes, art song deconstruction, and opera scenes coaching. I have gotten maybe 5 percent of that over the past decade. There is always work to do to pay the bills, caregiving to make my loved one's last years happy (which I would not have otherwise), not to mention just keeping a household, even a household of one, running. And really no one to bounce my artistic obsession and its progress off of other than my voice teacher and one friend that I met online.
Since I don't want to overdo Carmen, maybe it's time to go back to looking at Venus? Not even to try to sing to role yet, but at least to translate the German and learn the notes.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Friday, February 19, 2016
Master Classes and Couch Surfing
Well, today is another Faust Day. Last night at choir practice Little Miss was there and she invited people to hear her sing in a Master Class at her prestigious conservatory with a famous Metropolitan Opera Star. That happens to be the afternoon when I have a voice lesson so I won't be going, but I probably would pass on it anyhow. I love watching Youtube videos of Master Classes featuring young people who are doing what I wish I were doing right now (if the clock could be turned back 40 years) and if they're people I don't know, then the feeling of envy that I have is counterbalanced by the reward of learning something. But if it's someone I know, whom I see almost every week, who is a constant reminder of what I want so passionately that I will never have, it is very very very hard. I have to fight all the time not to let these things eclipse the exhilaration I have felt lately at how well I can sing "Liber Scriptus", or how I can now pick up a choir soprano part and sing a beautiful legato line peaking on an F at the top of the staff, with no effort and perfect breath support.
Of course I would be terrified to try to get into a Master Class with someone famous, if they would even have me.
When I was going through a rough patch with my teacher a few years ago I had a fantasy about writing to Dolora Zajick and seeing if I could sing for her and get her opinion. She has an Institute for Young Dramatic Voices, so I could present myself as someone with an "old dramatic voice". Although according to my teacher, ironically, I actually do have a "young voice" because I started when I was older, so my voice has about as much (or rather as little) wear and tear on it as a 30 year old's.
The other thing that one of my fellow choir members is doing is giving a series of concerts in people's homes, across the country. Apparently he is doing it through a group called Couchsurfing. How enterprising! He is someone my age but runs around like a 20-year-old, and seems to have a family (he has a wife and young adult daughter) who let him fly free. Now concerts in people's homes is definitely a venue I will see about looking into. If I confine it to the NYC area I don't have to sleep on people's couches. I could work up a program (it probably should be art songs, not opera) and see if it would fly. A friend told me about a genre of French art songs called "Salon Music" because people used to sing these in private homes.
Which makes me think that I really really miss the woman who used to give concerts (she called them "Musicales") in her living room. It was a chance to get up and sing for a small audience, as one of several, and to get new perspectives. But she doesn't seem to be doing anything with classical musicians any more.
A few days ago I read this article, which stressed the importance of getting feedback and training from a broad range of people. Probably the fact that I have predominately had one teacher is a drawback. But I am very happy now with all the progress I have made and want to stick with it. Sure it would be great if I could get coachings from different people who could give me new ideas but I simply can't afford it. I am living on a pittance as a freelance copyeditor and even in a few months when I can get Social Security, that will just be enough to keep me solvent, not enough for "extras". I am not a professional singer nor am I on any career path, so how would this expense be justified? When I was doing things with the woman I just mentioned, she only charged each person $20 to be part of a group session (where we would each get individual attention, and listen to the others).
Even if I can't be part of a Master Class, there are things I can do, just not now.
It is always a balancing act. My partner is failing and what I want (what my heart wants, what the part of me that is "good" wants) is to be with her as much as possible. One or two concerts a year and a handful of church solos, combined with a biweekly voice lesson and almost-daily practice is about all I can manage. I have to leave my calendar open otherwise.
Someday I can start a Meetup for late-starting classical musicians over 50 (or over 60?) but not now.
Of course I would be terrified to try to get into a Master Class with someone famous, if they would even have me.
When I was going through a rough patch with my teacher a few years ago I had a fantasy about writing to Dolora Zajick and seeing if I could sing for her and get her opinion. She has an Institute for Young Dramatic Voices, so I could present myself as someone with an "old dramatic voice". Although according to my teacher, ironically, I actually do have a "young voice" because I started when I was older, so my voice has about as much (or rather as little) wear and tear on it as a 30 year old's.
The other thing that one of my fellow choir members is doing is giving a series of concerts in people's homes, across the country. Apparently he is doing it through a group called Couchsurfing. How enterprising! He is someone my age but runs around like a 20-year-old, and seems to have a family (he has a wife and young adult daughter) who let him fly free. Now concerts in people's homes is definitely a venue I will see about looking into. If I confine it to the NYC area I don't have to sleep on people's couches. I could work up a program (it probably should be art songs, not opera) and see if it would fly. A friend told me about a genre of French art songs called "Salon Music" because people used to sing these in private homes.
Which makes me think that I really really miss the woman who used to give concerts (she called them "Musicales") in her living room. It was a chance to get up and sing for a small audience, as one of several, and to get new perspectives. But she doesn't seem to be doing anything with classical musicians any more.
A few days ago I read this article, which stressed the importance of getting feedback and training from a broad range of people. Probably the fact that I have predominately had one teacher is a drawback. But I am very happy now with all the progress I have made and want to stick with it. Sure it would be great if I could get coachings from different people who could give me new ideas but I simply can't afford it. I am living on a pittance as a freelance copyeditor and even in a few months when I can get Social Security, that will just be enough to keep me solvent, not enough for "extras". I am not a professional singer nor am I on any career path, so how would this expense be justified? When I was doing things with the woman I just mentioned, she only charged each person $20 to be part of a group session (where we would each get individual attention, and listen to the others).
Even if I can't be part of a Master Class, there are things I can do, just not now.
It is always a balancing act. My partner is failing and what I want (what my heart wants, what the part of me that is "good" wants) is to be with her as much as possible. One or two concerts a year and a handful of church solos, combined with a biweekly voice lesson and almost-daily practice is about all I can manage. I have to leave my calendar open otherwise.
Someday I can start a Meetup for late-starting classical musicians over 50 (or over 60?) but not now.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Not About Valentine's Day
I am long overdue for a blog post, but have simply been busy and have not had much to say.
Monday it will be 12 years since that fateful Samson et Dalila duet that changed my life forever. Two weeks ago at church, it was Transfiguration Sunday, and there was a guest minister who spoke about transfiguration. About God taking you out of your comfort zone. He asked if anyone had ever had an experience like that that had changed them forever. I raised my hand. As I said to the woman who interviewed me for Classical Singer (she didn't print this quote), when the duet was over, after the audience went wild,I knew then that I wanted that (that mélange of glorious music, sex, glamour, applause, and magic) more than anything in the world and that I would make any sacrifice to have it.
The road has been long, rocky, and filled with disappointments. There is the exhilaration of finally, beginning sometime in my 64th year, being able to let my voice fly free the way I believe it was always meant to, counterbalanced by the knowledge that I am too old for it to matter.
But I would never go back, Never.
And finally, this year, I barely gave a passing thought to The Mentor. A man in his mid-fifties who has a Facebook cover photo that zeroes in on his crotch is rather pathetic, when all is said and done. Yes, I envy that he has managed to make a life out of the arts, and I have not, but that is all.
Carmen is now approaching. I don't work on it too often, lest it get stale.
So next up is finding, with the help of the Director of Music Ministries, an appropriate Lent solo. For Good Friday we will be singing excerpts from the Faure Requiem. I asked about singing the "Pie Jesu" (which I had sung before on Maundy Thursday) but this Director says that Pie Jesus are inappropriate for Holy Week. Who knew? As a singing Jewish/Marxist/Unitarian, my knowledge of these things is a bit spotty, but I want to educate myself. I don't have to believe this or that to become well versed in appropriate liturgy. Church singing has become my craft. It is what I do best, and what I can do best because my age isn't (or shouldn't be) a barrier, and neither is my lack of physical mobility.
So I have revisited "Liber Scriptus". Now that I sing several high C sharps every day, that A flat that I was so nervous about is easy. And the low Ds are rich and plummy, not squawky the way they used to be. And there's the gorgeous "Lord's Prayer" by Malotte. I think there will be some evening services during Lent that center around the Lord's Prayer. And I would love a chance to sing the Rossini "Fac ut Portem" again. Everything is so different now and so much easier.
This week, for the first time ever, I had to miss a big service. My partner was rushed to the ER on Ash Wednesday. She fell as she was letting her occupational therapist into the apartment. The OT called 911. They thought she had broken her pelvis. It turned out nothing was broken but I didn't make it to the 6:30 call. I had alerted the choir director, and as I did not have a solo, I was ok about not singing. I was disappointed, because the piece was in 8 parts, which is when I am in my glory. Second soprano parts are hard, musically, but they are in a better part of my range than alto parts, but because there is still another part above me, I don't have to worry as much about keeping the volume down as I do if I am singing soprano in a four part piece (which is usually vocally healthier than singing alto, and allows me to use my full range). Now of course I worry what if my partner has an emergency when I am supposed to sing Carmen, but I just can't go there. If God wants me to sing, I will. And I will make a plan B, for someone to take care of any emergency my partner might have.
There is a weather alert, so we are taking a rain check on Valentine's Day. We will have lunch out on Wednesday - or have lunch in and watch a movie on demand.
OK, so yes, sometimes I wonder what The Mentor would think if he could hear me now.
Monday it will be 12 years since that fateful Samson et Dalila duet that changed my life forever. Two weeks ago at church, it was Transfiguration Sunday, and there was a guest minister who spoke about transfiguration. About God taking you out of your comfort zone. He asked if anyone had ever had an experience like that that had changed them forever. I raised my hand. As I said to the woman who interviewed me for Classical Singer (she didn't print this quote), when the duet was over, after the audience went wild,I knew then that I wanted that (that mélange of glorious music, sex, glamour, applause, and magic) more than anything in the world and that I would make any sacrifice to have it.
The road has been long, rocky, and filled with disappointments. There is the exhilaration of finally, beginning sometime in my 64th year, being able to let my voice fly free the way I believe it was always meant to, counterbalanced by the knowledge that I am too old for it to matter.
But I would never go back, Never.
And finally, this year, I barely gave a passing thought to The Mentor. A man in his mid-fifties who has a Facebook cover photo that zeroes in on his crotch is rather pathetic, when all is said and done. Yes, I envy that he has managed to make a life out of the arts, and I have not, but that is all.
Carmen is now approaching. I don't work on it too often, lest it get stale.
So next up is finding, with the help of the Director of Music Ministries, an appropriate Lent solo. For Good Friday we will be singing excerpts from the Faure Requiem. I asked about singing the "Pie Jesu" (which I had sung before on Maundy Thursday) but this Director says that Pie Jesus are inappropriate for Holy Week. Who knew? As a singing Jewish/Marxist/Unitarian, my knowledge of these things is a bit spotty, but I want to educate myself. I don't have to believe this or that to become well versed in appropriate liturgy. Church singing has become my craft. It is what I do best, and what I can do best because my age isn't (or shouldn't be) a barrier, and neither is my lack of physical mobility.
So I have revisited "Liber Scriptus". Now that I sing several high C sharps every day, that A flat that I was so nervous about is easy. And the low Ds are rich and plummy, not squawky the way they used to be. And there's the gorgeous "Lord's Prayer" by Malotte. I think there will be some evening services during Lent that center around the Lord's Prayer. And I would love a chance to sing the Rossini "Fac ut Portem" again. Everything is so different now and so much easier.
This week, for the first time ever, I had to miss a big service. My partner was rushed to the ER on Ash Wednesday. She fell as she was letting her occupational therapist into the apartment. The OT called 911. They thought she had broken her pelvis. It turned out nothing was broken but I didn't make it to the 6:30 call. I had alerted the choir director, and as I did not have a solo, I was ok about not singing. I was disappointed, because the piece was in 8 parts, which is when I am in my glory. Second soprano parts are hard, musically, but they are in a better part of my range than alto parts, but because there is still another part above me, I don't have to worry as much about keeping the volume down as I do if I am singing soprano in a four part piece (which is usually vocally healthier than singing alto, and allows me to use my full range). Now of course I worry what if my partner has an emergency when I am supposed to sing Carmen, but I just can't go there. If God wants me to sing, I will. And I will make a plan B, for someone to take care of any emergency my partner might have.
There is a weather alert, so we are taking a rain check on Valentine's Day. We will have lunch out on Wednesday - or have lunch in and watch a movie on demand.
OK, so yes, sometimes I wonder what The Mentor would think if he could hear me now.
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