Better Aging Through Practice - NO! - Better Singing Through Practice!

I stumbled upon this article in this morning's TIMES.  I had no idea what it was about, and thought it might help my partner, who is elderly and frail.

Well, lo and behold, to my pleasant surprise, it was about how learning and working to perfect a new skill in late middle age can keep aging at bay.  Who knew?  So I guess singing is keeping me young.  I identified with a lot in the article, but did not identify with all of it.

The author appears to have started playing tennis because he had always loved tennis and was looking for something to do.  My experience was very different.  As long-time readers know, I began singing this time (I had yearned to sing opera since adolescence but had been kept from my personal best by smoking, crash diets, clubbing, the wrong friends, and - at the time - what appeared to be the wrong sexual orientation) because I was "discovered" by a mentor figure.  By the time we were finished with each other, the relationship had become quite toxic, but I was launched on this journey because someone had indelibly imprinted on me that it mattered if I sang or not.

And (fortunately or unfortunately) I don't at all feel that "I am not really concerned about where all this winds up. It’s the getting there I’m enthralled with." I care very very much where this all winds up.

Of course starting at such a late age, I didn't think I would have any kind of serious "career" but I did hope to be one of the "stars" of one of the myriad opera companies in the city that don't pay people.  I sang with companies like that in my 20s when my voice was about one third the size it is now and I had minimal technical expertise, although I did always have perfect intonation and an instinct for "singing on the breath" probably from spending my childhood imitating Julie Andrews.  Back then there were women there who were the age I am now, and sounded about like I do now, who seemed to sing a lot of leading roles, maybe 2 or 3 times a year.

Finding out how far down the food chain I am was a shock, but not enough of one, apparently, to get me to quit.

But singing in the practice room (my bathroom) or at a lesson, or even in a church choir, is not enough.  Unlike athletes, performers are driven by the idea that there is an audience.  I have accepted that it may only be an audience of 10 people, in someone's living room, but that's ok.  I would rather sing two arias or art songs in someone's living room than be lost in a large chorus in Carnegie Hall.

Tomorrow is my performance of Carmen.  I know if I mind my ps and qs I can sing it well.  (Interestingly, the one way in which age has been a handicap is that it is harder to learn music, despite its being easier to sing).

I realize that what I want most, after tomorrow, is to be invited back.  I have never been invited to sing anything, anywhere, not even church solos, at least not since my days at that talent-starved Unitarian church, and that was short lived.

And I hope I get a video and some kind of public thank you.