Public and Private

Well, wouldncha know?  I was in a quasi bad mood yesterday (I say "quasi" because I felt frustrated to be back where things were with the choir director, but still happy at how I had gained ascendancy - good pun - over the "Hallelujah Chorus" as well as happy that I will be singing "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" this coming Sunday), so guess what I did? I just had to take a look at Little Miss's Facebook page to see if there was anything about her Master's recital (which she sang Saturday night after singing the Faure Requiem Friday night).

Obviously I can't be "envious" because she put on a recital, nor would I have wanted it not to go well.

Here's what I just can't bear.  The public nature of all the praise and showcasing that she gets when I basically get none.  Private compliments, dear to my heart as they are, are ephemeral.  I hear them, but the world at large does not.

Basically, the story is, her prestigious voice teacher posted sound clips and photos from the recital with a litany of praise beginning with how she had been blown away by this young woman's audition for the school 7 years ago.

My voice teacher doesn't even know how to use a bloody cell phone camera.

I don't have much else to say about this, other than that I desperately need a publicist.  I do what I can.  I asked the Communications Manager at the church to bring his video equipment on Sunday (he seems to have bought some new equipment) so that he can tape me singing.  He put it in his calendar.  Tomorrow I will remind him.  If I like the video, I can post it on my Facebook page and on my Youtube page (I set one up for myself months ago but have had almost nothing to post there).  In a few weeks I am going to look at the space at the senior center where I am doing Carmen and when I'm there I will ask the Event Planner if he can bring video equipment or if he knows someone who can.  Just to tape something.

As I've said, private compliments are sweet, public ones are a hundredfold sweeter.

In fact what pushed me over the edge with the choir director last year was his endless public praising of Little Miss.  I found it unseemly and at variance with the alleged mission of what we were doing there.

There was a meme circulating on Facebook a while ago (which I didn't do) that asked "What superpower would you want?" Really all I want is to be able to go back to 1964 and do a few things differently and then let my life play out again.  I'm not asking for perfection, or even for all my wishes to come true.  Really, when I think about it, everything that makes me want to put my head down and sob (which I did yesterday) has its roots in some mistakes I made when I was, oh, between the ages of 14 and 20.  Not mistakes I made last week or last year or even ten years ago.

I'm also crying because my partner may be losing her eyesight, because I know that things with her will never get better, all I can do is slow down their getting worse.  And a friend's partner (whom I don't know very well) is dying of cancer, that overtook her very fast.  I'm sad for them and I'm sad for me that I can't insulate myself from everything except being at the top of my game, assisted by a "team" rooting for me, which is of course what people like Little Miss do (and then of course they are also on other people's teams - their peers in these rarefied environments).

Well, this afternoon I have a voice lesson.  Maybe that will make me feel better.

Holy Week 2016

This year Holy Week was a bit of an anticlimax after last year's triumph. We sang the Faure Requiem, which is a gorgeous piece of music, but is rather light, not to mention that there were no solos other than the "Pie Jesu" which we didn't do.  There also were a lot of sopranos in the choir - trained singers who are members of the congregation but don't want the weekly commitment of singing with the choir.

I sang "Fac ut Portem" from the Rossini Stabat Mater in the 3 pm Spanish Service on Good Friday.  I got a lot of compliments.  I felt that I sang well because I sang full voice instead of trying to sound like a light soprano, which is what I have always tried to do when singing anything with the choir director, even solos, because that is the kind of sound he likes.

In the evening I sang the Requiem with the choir.  I got there late because I had gone home in between.  I was only 5 minutes late, but was the next to the last person to arrive, so he had already lined up the light sopranos in the front row.  He asked me to stand in the back (next to a woman who has had trouble learning the music) which was no big deal really.

Despite all this, the work is beautiful, and we did a good job with it, and the church was packed.

When I got there Easter Sunday I was dreading having to sing the soprano part in the Hallelujah Chorus (one of the least vocally friendly things I have had to sing - ever).  One of the light sopranos from Friday night was there and she said she was hoarse, and went up to the choir director and apologized that she might not be able to sing (the anthem we were singing was also rather high) so I told him I had warmed up to a high B (in preparation for the A in the Hallelujah Chorus) and his response was very strange; he told me maybe I would rather sing the alto part in a few measures of the anthem that had a high G in it.  Probably it was just as well, in that having to sing two high pieces was not the greatest thing for me as a mezzo, but it upset me because it made me feel that he mostly just sees me as having this big oafish ugly voice that is a "nuisance" and that I really "can't" sing certain notes which is simply not true certainly now with all the work I've done extending my voice up to a high C sharp.  So this feeds into my low self-esteem and self-doubt and really is not helpful.

This had a funny result, though, in that I was so angry I wailed out the soprano part in "Hallelujah" complete with the high A and singing full voice on the F and G in "King of Kings" (which is manageable if I sing full voice).

After the service the Director of Music (who had been playing the organ) came up and gave me a hug and thanked me for everything I had done that week, so that made me feel better.  All I really want is to be appreciated for the assets I have, rather than being snubbed because of what I am not (a light soprano with a "pretty" voice).

Anyhow, now it's a new day, so I will go back to working on Carmen and also on "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" which I will be singing this coming Sunday.

Fine Tuning

Well, finally I have gotten my solo assignments for Holy Week and beyond. I am going to sing "Fac ut Portem" from the Rossini Stabat Mater on Good Friday at 3, in the Spanish service, and "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" from the Messiah on the Sunday after Easter.

Both of these pieces are things I sang in public about 7 years ago and not since, and boy, do they sound different!  I am still not happy with the decrescendo in "Fac ut Portem", but it's that kind of fine tuning that I am finally beginning to be able to devote myself to, now that the decade-long struggle that I have had with extending my range seems to be at an end.  I am sailing up to Cs and C sharps with little effort, and a B flat (not to mention an A and A flat) feel practically like middle voice!  And my lower passaggio has smoothed out also.

And Carmen is starting to take shape.  I had left it alone for a while, because I had done a lot of work on the difficult spots, mostly the end of the "Sequidilla" and the "Chanson Boheme".  So beginning in April I need to work on it exclusively, which should be fine.  I have rehearsal dates, a date to look at the space, and a possible escort for my partner (which can then, if necessary, morph into someone to take care of her if there is an emergency).