A Real Beginning to Something Real?

Last night's Carmen was the best experience I have had singing to date.  I sang well, I acted well (we were singing from books and there was no staging, but I did use some movement, gestures, and facial expressions), and I knew all my music.

Best of all,  there was an audience of 150 people!  The venue was an LGBT senior center (not a residence) and of course a lot of gay men love opera (the audience was mostly male) and the program was scheduled to follow dinner.

My teacher wrote to me to say how "proud" he was of me, and that he hoped we could do something there again.  He said his wife loved narrating and that she would be happy to provide some kind of narration for a concert of opera scenes in the future.

The woman coordinating the event took video clips, so when I get them (if I don't get them by next week I will contact her) I will mention that we would be happy to sing there again.  I'm sure that they would be happy to have us because we got tons of compliments.

My partner was there with her friend, who has spent her life as an actress, and they both loved it.

So maybe this will be the beginning of my being "sought after", even on a small scale?

I hope to have videos soon, as well as some stills that my former boss took.  In the meantime, here are two selfies I snapped as I walked to the elevator.

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.

The Bitter and the Sweet - 2016 Iteration

First, the sweet.

We had the first of two Carmen rehearsals today and boy, can I see a difference from 2014.

First, I sang the "Seguidilla" in the original key.  I nailed the B natural. Now, that does not mean that I can do it in the performance when I am not as relaxed as in a rehearsal, but there's hope.  First of all I no longer gird my loins, take a deep breath, brace myself, and hope for the best.  I now have some idea of what to do with my larynx and mouth, and seem to be able to stay "on task".  I mean I am now vocalizing up to a C sharp (however it sounds) several times a week (my teacher has told me not to attempt it every day).  I was also pleasantly surprised by how well I sang all the recitatives and bits and pieces of the duets which are very hard to work on alone, without an accompaniment and the other singer.  The only thing I'm shaky on is the entrance to "Chanson Boheme" and the recitative before the "Card Scene".  And it will also be easier this time because I can use the music.

I am not making a big deal of inviting people because I was told it is mostly for the clients and members of this LGBT senior center.  I was told I could invite 5 guests who are over 60.  I already have my 5, plus my partner, who will be escorted by a friend, also someone her age.  They don't count toward the total because my partner is a client of the organization.  I am especially touched that this friend is coming because (even at 80) she has a grueling job and I never thought she liked me all that much.  Anyhow, I am very touched that she will be coming.  And my old boss from the 90s, and his wife, will be coming.  He is a professional photographer but I have no idea if he would know how to make a video with a cell phone camera.  For all I know he takes stills (the only work I have seen) with an old fashioned film camera.

As for the bitter, the accompanist for Carmen works at the conservatory where Little Miss is finishing up her MMus, and told me that she will be going to Caramoor as one of their young artists.  It is just very very painful to have someone living the life I wish I had lived, succeeding at it (she is obviously the best of the best of the best at that conservatory - many students graduate from there and end up only teaching or being paid church singers and not even soloists at that), and still floating around my little world.  Probably she will have less and less to do with the choir.  I actually am happy to have her there if we are singing a piece with two soprano parts because there isn't anyone to sing those high parts.  I am fine being a second soprano (although I wish there were not now six of us).  My only source of unhappiness was that I felt I was not as highly prized as she was, nor ever as publicly praised.

Also, my therapist said I should "grieve" over what I feel were my lost opportunities, the life I now know I will never have.  She said I am always angry, which probably means I am really sad.  I said what good would it do to be sad? At least if I am angry that can sometimes motivate me to work harder.  Sure, if I let myself I could just put my head down and sob for a week over that teenager who thought it was more important to weigh 15 pounds less (which I thought I could achieve by smoking) and be "mod" than to honor the gift of a voice I had been given, who slacked her way through school (I mean all these successful people I envy were involved with clubs and extracurricular activities from the time they were 14, when I was cutting classes and sitting and smoking in Prospect Park), got in with the wrong crowd, caught up first in the zeitgeist of "the Sixties" and then with politically correct Dyke-dom.  But what good would any of this do?  No one seems to understand how much gut-wrenching sadness I feel.  Everyone just platitudinizes and says things like "I don't regret anything because it all made me the person I am today."  Well I certainly don't feel that.  Not at all.

So now it's time to go to bed.  I have 12 days to take care of myself and polish my performance.

Exit Laughing

Well, today ended with a bit of a giggle.

I went with my voice teacher to look at the performance space at the LGBT Senior Center. As we were getting ready to leave, after looking at the space, an attractive young woman came into the waiting room and announced "I'm having a workshop on sex. Is anyone interested? Pass the word along." She saw me and my teacher standing with our coats on and said "Do you want to stay and talk about sex?" so my teacher said "We're going uptown to my apartment because she's having a voice lesson" and I said "In a few weeks we will be putting on Carmen, it's got lots of sex." It was pretty surreal. 

And may I add, I had a really great lesson and the role is sounding really good?

Easter Joy

Keeping to my promise to write when things go well, not just when they don't, I want to let you know that "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" went well yesterday.  I hadn't sung it in public in about 7 years, and there is certainly a difference.  The Director of Music accompanied me and said I had a "good sound".  The Communications Director made a video (I haven't seen it yet) which he will send me.  He also said if I want, he can cut it so that I can have a smaller segment to post or send people. The choir director was there with his family and said it sounded good also.

So now it's back to Carmen.  I seem to be having trouble with the B in the "Seguidilla" again, which is frustrating, because I'm doing well vocalizing up to a C sharp.  I'm having terrible allergies, maybe that's why.

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).

New Stuff

Finally, I have some new things to report a propos of my singing.

My teacher and I have decided to put Carmen to bed now until April, except for drilling the notes in Act IV, which I am expanding beyond what I had sung a few year ago.  The last few times I sang the "Seguidilla" I was confident with the high B, so it's a good idea to leave it alone.

I just love, love, love the solo version of the Lauridesen "O Magnum Mysterium".  It is a big piece, compared with what I usually sing in church, so it would have to be for a special occasion, probably not when the regular choir director is there because he doesn't like the sound of a big voice singing high, and that's his preference.  If there's a spot for me to sing early in the season I can sing "Bereite Dich Zion".

My teacher just saw the HD version of Tannhauser and he said, yes, I should look at Venus.  Working on that in German would be a good companion to singing the Bach.  German is my weakest language, so I need to improve it.

He also said I should sing through Santuzza's "Voi lo Sapete".  This surprised me as he once told me that the role was for a soprano and it wasn't for me.  Years ago I tried to sing the "Easter Hymn", hoping it was something that I might sing in church (HAH!) but found the tessitura too high.

I told my teacher I felt guilty that after successfully nailing the phrases with the high B flats in the Amneris/Radames duet I just didn't feel like singing it again right now (didn't want to push my luck?) and he said that was fine.

In other news, I had mentioned working at the church after-school program, and last week I got to work with a child one on one for the first time and I really loved it.  I never wanted any children and have never spent much time around them, but I volunteered for this because they urgently needed people and Monday afternoon is an ideal time for me to do something (weekends are for eldercare and I am not crazy about being out at night, particularly once it gets dark early and there might be snow on the ground).  I figured if I have trained lots of editors over the years I can help a child with English homework (I begged off helping with the math homework!)  Well, once I sat down with a real live little boy, it just made me so happy!  I felt connected, which I never do sitting here editing at my laptop alone in the apartment.  And I got to use my imagination and intuition, faculties that have rusted over the years in corporate environments.  Anyhow, I now really believe that God was at work once again in my life, bringing me something joyful, in addition to singing, to break up the tedium of my dull work and dreary (and sad) eldercare.  It was refreshing to be at the other end of the life cycle, which I never am, because I never had children and don't have siblings.

Save the Date

Well, metaphorically speaking.

I now have a definite date for my Carmen concert.  It will be at the LGBT senior center where my partner gets services, after they have dinner, on Monday May 2, 2016.  My voice teacher will be singing Don Jose.  His wife may be the narrator.  She is a contralto who is a good actress and would definitely be able to give it the right tone.  We are getting the same, superb pianist we had before.  He told me he has played for operatic concerts there before.  My teacher will look for a Micaela.  If we can get the woman who sang before, that would be lovely.  Whether or not she can sing from memory (or whether or not I am wearing my glasses) will not be relevant, because we will be singing from books (note to self: remember to find out if they have music stands; if not, remind teacher to bring one, and we can share it).

I asked if I could invite guests and was told yes, but that they had to be over 60.  That makes perfect sense, as they don't want to have to turn away clients because young people are hogging the seats (not that I think we will get that huge a turnout).  Most of my personal friends are that age anyhow, with a few exceptions.  If someone wants to bring my SO as a carer I don't think it will matter how old that person is.

I am mostly over this cold.  Today when I warmed up I sang a high C sharp.  The B in the Seguidilla (and all those low chest tones) are still not the best notes I can sing, but then that piece is not something that shows off my voice all that much.  We have opened the cut in the last act as well as the cuts that the previous producer made in the "castanets" scene, so I need to rework those.

As for choir solos, I am going to see if I can sing "Bereite Dich Zion" during Advent.  Once the choir schedule comes out (after Thanksgiving) I will see where there is an empty anthem spot.  Then next year I would like to order the piano/vocal arrangement of the Verdi "Ave Maria with Strings" so that maybe I can excerpt something for the following year.  Otherwise I seem to have run out of new pieces for Advent.

And we will see about the rest of the church year.  I like to do something every season.

This is not the most inspired post I have written, but I want to say thumbs up that I now have a date on my calendar to sing something!

The Heroine of My Own Blog

I have been needing to make a post for quite some time, but have been very busy with my health issues (an eye infection necessitating a trip to my ophthalmologist in Brooklyn), new glasses (see photo), my partner's health issues (taking her to the dermatologist), and work (booooring).

Of course I am still singing!

On Sunday the 23rd I sang both the "Laudamus te" from the Bach Mass in B Minor and "Domine Deus" from the Vivaldi Gloria.  Because there was no air conditioning in the church (they need a whole new unit, which is very expensive, so they have been taking bids) I was excused from singing at 9 and just sang at 11.  The "Laudamus te" went really well.  We even got applause!!  "Domine Deus" went less well; we hadn't rehearsed it enough, and at one point the violinist seemed to be fumbling for the right note, so I ended up doing that also (which I am sure no one noticed) so I didn't get enough breath for the longest phrase at the end.  I apologized afterwards to the pianist (who is also our new Director of Music Ministries) and he said there was no problem, because I had made it work.

So now there is nothing on my calendar - which means I need to fill it up!!  Tomorrow I have an appointment with my partner's caseworker at the LGBT senior services center, which is where I also sent in a request to put on my pocket version of Carmen.  When I am done with my appointment I will see if I can talk with the woman who coordinates the space usage, and see what the status of my bid is.  I will need to set a date and line up other singers (and a pianist) before the year is out, so I want to get this moving.

I have gone back to working on the "Seguidilla" (never an ideal fit for my voice) and I am solidly able to nail that B (I have been vocalizing up to a C sharp every day), but staccati are just not my thing, so I have to sing the scale legato, then take a breath, and portamento from the F sharp up to the B.  As I said, this is just not my style of singing.  My teacher and I discussed the fact that a lot of it is low, but light, like a pop song, but I have to be careful at some point to get back on task with my low larynx position and strong support or I will not make it up to that B.

One disappointment is that the woman who used to produce the September 11 concerts and who helped me produce Carmen really isn't doing anything with classical singers any more.  She posted something about a series of Christmas concerts, which I said I would be interested in, and she emailed me back and said that she really only wants pop or folk singers, as well as people who will help her organize the whole process of finding venues and booking the group into them.  "Planning and organizing" (ah, yes, that was a category on the 100s of performance evaluations I administered when I was working, as well as on my own) is something too tied in with what I did for a living for me to ever want to do it on a volunteer basis, other than as the sole mechanism that enables me to sing anywhere, which I resent, but that's a waste of energy.

I suppose the last thing (and no doubt what prompted me to decide to write) is that I see that Little Miss's performance with The Opera Company That Said I Was Not A Future Investment has been reviewed by a well respected opera blogger.  It was not reviewed in the TIMES (although another opera in that series was, probably because it was something new and different), but this blogger has a wide readership and he gave her the highest praise for her singing and acting.

As it is unlikely that I will ever even be noticed by anyone of that ilk, I have to content myself, as did David Copperfield, by being the "Heroine of My Own Story" here in this blog.

Carmen Videos

I finally got back the Carmen videos.  They are extremely well done (by the narrator's father, for no charge - other than my giving him all the leftover food because the number of attendees was so much lower than I had budgeted for).  He knows how to pan in to the singers' faces, which is key.  The woman who was paid to video the September 11 concert did not do nearly as good a job, mostly because she just videoed the entire stage, with the piano at the left, and the singer at the right, leaving the singer very small.

First of all, I will say that except for the B flat (written as a B natural) at the end of the Sequidilla, I am happy with how everything sounded.  I sound better than I ever have.  A lot of things have come together this past year (except that my range has not increased and perhaps never will).  My voice is much bigger, has less tension, and the notes that I do have at the top and the bottom within my "Wikipedia" two octave range from low A to high A sound much better and are just easier to sing.  I also think I acted well with one or two exceptions.  I am certainly pleasantly surprised by how well I move onstage, considering that I have bad scoliosis, age-related deterioration of the lumbar spine, arthritic hips, and a fractured knee that never healed properly.  The only concession I made to "disability" was to change into my flat shoes for the final scene because I wasn't able to fall easily in heels.  If anything, my one shortcoming is that I still use my upper body a lot as an aide to vocal technique (raising my arms, for example) rather than to create a character.  And of course the humongous gaffe was that my glasses were on a lot of the time.  This was not a staged reading from books (other than Micaela singing her aria from a book, which should not have happened) and I had all my music and words memorized.  I had my glasses on when I was offstage so I could look at the score and read the narration.  As I said in another posting, if this had been a professional performance or even a well organized amateur one, there would have been a stage manager of some kind who would have noticed that I had my glasses on and taken them off.

The only video I am almost completely happy with is Act IV, so I have sent it to friends and posted it on my Facebook page.  I sent all of them to the concert producer, the other singers, and my voice teacher, and will of course send more to any friends who ask for them.

I am mostly happy today, of course, but also a bit sad, because I can see all the rough edges that need smoothing, and I know that people who went to conservatories and young artist programs got to get up and sing in front of people over and over and get constructive criticism that would help them smooth those rough edges, and of course I do so rarely. So I fall further and further behind.  Even if I count from when I started singing again at 54, which is 10 years ago, I have not advanced as far as someone like Little Miss Conservatory, who at 22 has probably been studying for less than that, because she has had total immersion and I have not.  It's a miracle even that I practice 6 days a week.

In other news, the producer got back to me about the Handel and said it was too long, and that she would find two shorter songs for me to sing on September 11.  I am game for anything, I am just now wondering what she has in mind, as she thought the two shorter churchly pieces in English ("The Call" by Vaughan Williams and "He that Keepeth Israel" by Schlosser) were "dull".

I debated whether or not to post the video here and have decided not.  I posted it on my Facebook page.  If anyone here wants to see it, just leave a comment with your email address.  I screen all comments, so it won't be public.

Brief Debrief

Before I take my computer to be repaired, I just wanted to make a brief post about yesterday's performance, and post some pictures.

All in all, I was happy about how it went.  I sang well,  I acted well, and I had a ball.  I did make one huge gaffe which simply would not happen in a professional performance: I was reading along with the script offstage, so when I came on for one scene I had my glasses on!  Of course in a professional performance there is someone in the wings who checks you before you go on stage, so something like this would not happen.

Eight of the 13 people I invited showed up, and they all enjoyed it.  My sense is that the producer was lukewarm about it.  I don't know what that means.  There are some people who only make critical suggestions and don't pay compliments, so maybe she is one of them.  That is ok.  I just hope I can sing with her again.  What she said was that it needed "tweaking" (not a surprise! we only had two runthroughs and this is the first time I did anything with staging that had to be memorized in 35 years).  She mentioned that I had to stay in character when came on and off the stage, which was a useful piece of feedback.  The problem is that I do these things so infrequently that I don't have a chance to tweak or refine anything really.  She did compliment me on having memorized all that music, and implied that there would be a "next time" for this piece.

Next up: she is producing a concert for Hispanic Heritage month, so I am hoping I can sing two Manuel Garcia songs that inspired the Habanera.  I also hope I can sing "Erfreute Zeit" as a summer anthem.  And I keep hearing from the filmmaker intermittently about singing the Bach aria in her film, but she seems not to understand that she can't just give me a week's notice.  If nothing else, I will need to reserve an accompanist and their schedules really fill up.

A Rocky Road

It's so ironic.

I have been having the time of my life getting ready for this Carmen (which is tomorrow!), but I have also been really fighting illness, which is totally uncharacteristic.  I have this problem with chronic sinus drainage, but I never catch things.  The concert producer said that maybe my immune system has been weakened by a lack of Vitamin C, now that I don't eat or drink any citrus.  On the other hand, when I mentioned this to my ENT, she said there is plenty of Vitamin C in green vegetables, which I eat a lot of.

Last Thursday I woke up with a low grade fever, but I took some tylenol, and went to the final runthrough, and sang my personal best. Friday I did some work at home.  Saturday morning I sang at a funeral (just anthems with the choir and the second soprano part in a solo women's quartet by Schubert).  Sunday my chords felt irritated.  Monday I had a lesson and my teacher said he didn't hear anything odd, although I could not vocalize past a B.  Usually I can make it up to a C in the studio although not always at home.  So he gave me strict instructions as to how much singing to do/not do going forward.  Tuesday I went to see the producer, and we worked on staging and she gave me a few props and accessories (what I meant by "having a ball").  My windpipe by that point actually hurt when  pressed it, which made me cough, but nonetheless I got through part of "Chanson Boheme" including the high G sharp, which is one of the nervous making notes because it is a big note.  Wednesday that pain was gone, but through Friday I felt that there was a lot of mucus on my chords so I sounded hoarse particularly early in the day.  I sang a little Wednesday but not Thursday or Friday (those days I just did some warming up - to an A flat, which seemed to be ok).  Last night for the first time I had trouble sleeping because the mucus had moved down into my chest, so I kept coughing.  I finally fell asleep at 2.  I woke up at 8, which actually for some people would be enough sleep, but  usually sleep 8 or 9 hours.

I have been on a regimen of steaming, Neti pot, Vicks, and mucinex.  I may take a mucinex tonight as well as tomorrow morning if I think it will keep me from coughing.  My voice actually sounds less hoarse now that all the mucus has moved down.  Today is do or die.  I have to warm up to an A (my teacher said nothing higher until tomorrow, when I can sing the ending of the Seguidilla to see if can make it up to that B flat).  I will run through Act IV.  Then I will run through the whole thing mouthing the words and seeing if I can do the staging in my heels.

No matter what, I will perform tomorrow. I know I will give a good performance even if  I don't sing my best.

I have just been having so much fun.  I love fooling around with props and costumes (on me, not other people) almost as much as I love singing.  I had hoped to find a job where I could experience that, but it never panned out.  I promised my therapist I would stop agonizing over how much I hate what I do for a living and the hopelessness of doing something else, and just view myself as "bridging toward retirement" and try to do as little of this paying work as I can get away with and enjoy the rest of my life as much as I can.

In case anyone might worry: I will definitely post something about how the performance went but it might not be until Tuesday night, because I am sleeping over tomorrow night with my partner (I am on tenterhooks as to how she will react to my performance, which will be quite realistic) and Monday afternoon I have a lot of errands to catch up on, including taking my laptop to have the keyboard replaced.  (The only way I can type an "e" is to push the key down with a stylus).

Brief Update on Carmen and Health

I definitely owe you all a blog post.  I should write as much when I'm happy as I do when I'm sad or angry.

Did I tell you I just love, love, love singing and playing Carmen?

I think this concert of excerpts will definitely be manageable.  I don't find it scary and overtaxing the way I found the Verdi opera scenes concert.  There are three (well, four) notes on which I have to really mind my ps and qs (meaning muster a low breath support and not panic), otherwise I can shake  my booty and have a ball.

There is going to be more staging than I had originally thought: my hands will be tied during the Seguidilla (yum!) and once they are untied (before the scary ending) I can play with the rope and make a big gesture with it to help anchor me in that run up to the B flat. The scene will end with my putting the rope around Don Jose's neck and giving it a tug.

I will have a fan for Chanson Boheme.

And yes, I will really get stabbed at the end and will have to fall! (A bit nervous making considering that my left leg is held together with metal screws!)

I am just having so much fun.  Now I need to make sure I don't develop post- partum depression.

Well, I just read that 2015 will be a big year for Hamlet.  So maybe I can create a concert using scenes from the opera.  I have been wanting to learn the role of Gertrude anyhow.

And my fever is gone!

Optimistic, but Fighting a Bug

We had our first runthrough of Carmen Monday and it was mostly OK.  I have everything memorized except the end of the Act 2 duet and Act IV.  If necessary I can write the words to Act IV on a piece of paper and stick on the back of the "death" tarot card. I have a set of tarot cards - that's the pagan part of me. I can certainly be spot on with the musical entrances.

As for vocal issues, I kinda sorta maybe can get up to that B flat (formerly a B natural) at the end of the "Seguidilla," but unless I let out a hideous yowl no one will care.  Otherwise there are only three A flats to worry about, which are definitely part of my comfortable singing range.  The hardest one is at the end where she sings "No, no, no" and the last one is an A flat . For me the hardest thing is always attacking a note like that off the cuff, although historically I can always do this up to an A unless I don't use proper support (I call it panic and freeze).

Leaving all that aside, I know I really make this role come alive.  Well, I'm hot, and I'm a drama queen.  That's all there is to it.  That's why I am not ready to give up on opera yet, even though church music is in a much more manageable range.  The tenor, whom I really enjoy working with, is also a stage director, so we really click in making this drama work.  He told me to go to a prop store and buy a retractable knife so that we could really do the last act justice.

As for the second half of this post's title, as people know, I have ongoing problems with my sinuses.  Since I have been drinking a lot of water and not having any citric acid, I have stopped clearing my throat, but my sinuses still drain all the time.  But now I think it's more than just an allergic reaction to something, because I woke up Monday with aches (which I had - perhaps mistakenly - thought was the result of sleeping at my partner's on the bed that is piled with newspapers, etc.).  Tuesday I was OK but yesterday I was really achey, and had chills, and had the kind of sinus blockage that you get with a cold.  It did not interfere with my singing, thank goodness.  I looked at the Neti pot instructions and they said I could use it "numerous times" if I thought I was getting a cold, so that is what I did. I am feeling a little better.  I just have to get through the second runthrough tonight (I will warn the tenor not to get too close), and get through Saturday, which is the funeral I for the violinist, which I had mentioned.  The choir is singing two anthems and I am in a solo women's quartet singing an arrangement of the 23rd Psalm (in German) by Schubert.  I have sung it before (the second soprano part) but last time it was in a group of 8.  After that, if needs be I can be quiet until the Sunday of the concert (May 4), although it probably won't come to that.

Carmen Update and

Today I sang through all the scenes from Carmen that I will be performing in the concert, with appropriate breaks (eg, for Micaela's aria) and did not get tired.  I get much less tired than I used to.  No matter what things I still struggle with (I still can't open my mouth and sing a B flat off the cuff), enormous progress has been made.  And it is not to take for granted that I am stronger at almost 64 than I was at 54.  Many people are not.  It is harder for me to step up onto a bus than it used to be, but it is easier to sing.

The "Seguidilla" no longer scares me.  If that top note is only a B flat and I sing the run going up to it legato, it is not hard.

So here's what's still to be done.

Memorize the recit before the Seguidilla
Make sure I don't get left behind at the end of the Act 2 duet
Finish memorizing the Card aria and the death scene and decide how much of the dialog at the end will be spoken rather than sung.

Make a big push to invite people (the concert is free)

My teacher has given me some new exercises (mostly beginning the old ones on an "h" sound instead of an "l").  With these and with my assiduously keeping my sinuses cleared out, drinking 8 glasses of water a day and not drinking any juice or beverages containing citric acid (or eating any fruit other than melon or pears) my voice has much more shimmer and beauty, although my range has not increased.  Interestingly, it's the bottom that in many ways sounds better.  It used to sound scratchy.  I got a lot of compliments on "O Rest in the Lord", which is a low piece, although it does not go below Middle C. And not giving up my valiant fight with the off the cuff B flat has made my off the cuff A and A flat sound better and it has made the B flat sound better when I sing it in the middle or at the end of a progression (which I can do).

The choir director seems to be in a friendlier mood.  He was quite nice about handing out my concert flyers and said I could bring them to rehearsal Wednesday.  And this past Wednesday he did not mention the Senior Recital in front of the group, although there was a lot of buzz about it, mostly among the women my age who are not trained singers.  I think part of the reason they make such a fuss about this young soprano is that she is the age of their kids.  I was a bit peeved that when we were rehearsing the Good Friday music in parts at one point the sopranos sang a progression up to a B flat and people (including the other altos) said "awesome".  I was really mad so when the altos got to do our progression (up to a measly D) I sang it as loud and "Verdian" as I could.  (Why oh why can't we have parity and get to sing a progression up to a G?  That would be our equivalent of a B flat.)

Well, I should be pleased that all three pastors came up to me and complimented me on "O Rest in the Lord".

And I have set aside part of tomorrow early evening to make sure I am spot on with all the Good Friday music.  Unfortunately, as I am singing alto, I can't learn it "by osmosis" by listening to the recordings.

Oh, and here's a pic from the living room musicale.  Unfortunately all you can see is the tenor's back!

The Bitter, The Sweet, and the As-Yet Unknown

That's what life is basically; the bitter and the sweet.

Because I am trying so hard not to be a "downer", and because so many good things are happening, I want to start with

The Sweet:

1. All in all, yesterday's musicale event (where I sang the Act 2 duet from Carmen) went really well.  I lost my note after the tenor aria (waiting for applause, which never came, probably because people thought we were in the middle of a scene) and then had no clue which note to start on.  And I also got lost at the very end, but I caught up, and we ended with a kiss.  And I just love, love, love acting this role.

2. This tenor and I have quite a bit of chemistry on stage, which surprised me.  He's a hard person to read; I have no idea if he even likes me, but he is respectful and professional, and he has a great sense of humor.

3. The producer was very pleased.  Here is what she wrote on her Web site:

Thank you, [BabyD], for your lovely comments about our musicale! I'm happy I was able to help you realize your dream of singing Carmen!!!!, and look forward to your May 4 concert. You've made great strides with Carmen. I'm very proud of you! It's not easy music! Thank you, also, for bringing your guest, tenor _________, to sing the duet, yesterday.

4. I am so grateful to have found someone who is really interested in me, in more of a holistic way.  Sometimes her advice is questionable (about vowels; also about singing the higher notes in some portions of the duet) but her breadth of knowledge about various types of repertoire, style, languages, acting, and presentation is quite astounding, and since "the mentor" is not something I have had access to.

5. One of the women from the choir came and she was very supportive and complimentary.  I also introduced her to the producer.  I think they may really hit it off, as they both are interested in Spanish culture.


The Bitter:

The night before this concert, Little Miss Conservatory had her senior recital.  Don't get me wrong.  I think she is a major talent and is very sweet.  I just resent that there seems to be nothing that I can do that can really be noticed or appreciated with her in the spotlight (which she just is; I do not think she grabs it unfairly) 24/7.  There is just a subtle way, for example, that the choir director behaved about her recital that he has never behaved about anything I've been involved in, even if he attended it.  And there is buzz among the women in the choir, including a number who would never attend anything I sang in.  So once again, I feel my joy is tempered or tarnished by being outdone.


The As-Yet Unknown:

1. I still don't know if I am singing "O Rest in the Lord" on Maundy Thursday.  If not, I am going to make a big push to sing something with the violinist after Easter, if for no other reason, then to memorialize the violinist who died.  We were thinking of "Domine Deus".  I also want to send him the music for "Erfreute Zeit" maybe to do in the summer.

2. I have no idea if I (or the choir) will be asked to perform (or whatever the appropriate word is) at the violinist's funeral.  I had thought I might be asked because we had performed together.  I thought it would be tacky to volunteer (this is one of those situations in which I have no idea where the line is between being pushy and going after something I want), but I did ask the choir director if "we" (meaning the choir) would be singing.  He said "hmmm, that's a good idea; I will have to think about it", whatever that means.  I have not heard anything, but there was a posting on the church's Facebook page that "musicians were assembling to give the violinist a send off with the music he loved".  What musicians?  If it will only be instrumentalists I am OK with that, and if the other mezzo (the woman who is older than I am, with a beautiful trained voice, who has health issues and does not sing out) is asked to sing I will be happy too.  She was very close friends with the violinist and performed in his living room at salons from time to time, so she would have earned it.  On the other hand....if they ask someone else to sing...Well, I can't think about that.

ETA: I heard back from the choir director, and he said that the other church that shares our building will be doing the Maundy Thursday service, so I will be singing "O Rest in the Lord" on Palm Sunday at 9.  I suppose it is an all purpose piece that will suffice, although at 11 the choir will be singing something upbeat.  I have sung it recently, so it won't need much rehearsal and it will be part of the season's Mendelssohn theme.  I also used our email exchange as an opportunity to ask about the funeral.  I said I had read that "musicians were assembling" and that I would be honored to participate in some way as part of a group or singing a solo.  If they are only using instrumentalists that is fine.  My only strong feeling is that if there is going to be singing it should either be the choir (or a smaller group from the choir who will be there on that morning) or it should be a soloist who had some relationship with this violinist, which would be one of the older choir members who actually sang with him.

In Memoriam

I haven't written for a while, and was hoping to post something more upbeat, but in a way, this is, because it is acknowledging someone whose respect and support meant a lot to me.

One morning, after I had been singing at the Lutheran church for a year or so, after singing Mozart's "Laudate dominum", an elderly man, whom I had heard playing the violin (brilliantly) in a number of services came up to me and said "There's a voice that can carry in a 3000 seat opera house!"  which totally astounded me, as I had been singing pianissimo.  When he told me he was a retired violinist from the New York City Opera I was even more astounded and flattered.

After that, we "performed" several pieces in services (the "Laudamus te" from the Bach B Minor Mass and "Domine Deus" from the Vivaldi Gloria).  We were going to perform the Bach cantata "Erfreute Zeit" when his eyesight and memory began failing.  He never played again after that summer.

I knew that he did not have long, and when I heard that he was in the hospital with pneumonia I had hoped to visit him, but then this morning the church's Pastor posted on Facebook that he had died.

I don't want to link to his real name here, because for now, anyhow, I don't want people from the church who might "google" him to link back to this blog, although I am sure some of them already read it.

I miss this man for loving reasons and for selfish ones: he was part of my beginnings at the church when  the trained musicians were fewer, and we were older.  It was a golden age, never to come again, I suppose, and I should be grateful for having had it.

In other news, last night I had the first rehearsal of the Carmen duet with the tenor and the pianist.  It was a little raggedy, but he has a magnificent voice, and is a superb actor as well.  I love losing myself in the drama.  This is where I am happy: singing (preferably something with no scary climactic high notes), acting, fussing over a costume and props, thinking about accuracy of time and place...

And the red shoes, which I wore at the Strand, totally rock.

Reality Checks, but....Maybe I've Found My Gimmick

Carmen is going well.  The tenor is on board.  We have a Micaela.  The accompanist is intrigued by the project.  And I discovered how much I enjoy creating a performance piece.  In putting together the script from the novella I was able to use my playwriting skills.  True, these are Merimee's words,  not mine, but in fact they're not entirely his words because what I have is an English translation.  So a lot of artistry went into selecting which passages to read, where to omit things, and when to change archaic language.

And the wonderful news is that I think this project has legs.  The woman producing it is known for, among other things, a one woman show that she does using readings and songs.  I can easily see how I could turn this into one.  What I like about it is it's its own unique entity.  Yes, I sang the role of Dalila, but other people can do that better, and the Met can produce it more lavishly.  And big orchestras can certainly do better with the Verdi Requiem.  And all these small opera groups can do a better job with a complete production of Carmen.  But I was the one who thought up this project and it is unique.

Maybe feeling happy and artistically fulfilled by this has allowed me to do some reality checks.

I will probably never be a real Verdi mezzo.  I still believe that  I could have been one if I had begun studying when I was younger (or even if I'd just continued on with where I was at 30).  My voice is certainly big enough, it has the right palette of colors, and I have a dramatic temperament.  But as a late starter who started at the age many singers retire, when my body was starting to get weaker, I simply have neither the range nor the stamina.

I also have decided to transpose the last page of the Seguidilla down a half step.  If it was good enough for Grace Bumbry on the recording, it is good enough for me.  I mean even then it's not a sure thing because a B flat is not 100% in my range either, but it's certainly 85% in my range, which a B natural is not (for the B natural I would say 50%, which is not good enough for a peformance).  I also realized that one thing that was causing me problems was trying to sing staccati up the scale and end with that little hiccup where you jump from an F sharp to a B.  I realize that one of the handful of B flats I never had trouble with was in the aria from Sappho, because I sing it legato and use the line, and a portamento effect, to keep it anchored.  So I can do that with the Seguidilla.  I will just ignore the staccati once I progress to the E, take a breath before hand, and make a nice swoopy scale.  And ignore the grace note.

I think what's at issue here is that I realized what I want most is to make a mark somehow as a performing artist.  When all is said and done it doesn't matter if I sing this or that operatic role.  I don't think I could be happy singing nothing but church solos because I have too flamboyant a personality.  But, for example, I could be totally happy taking this pastiche of spoken word and song that revolves around Carmen into various educational venues (my new mentor could help me with that) wearing a fabulous costume and even (just for instance) omit that page of the Seguidilla with the high note entirely.  There are all kinds of things I could do.  I could learn the original Habanera that Elina Garanca sings on her recording.  And combine both Habaneras with the songs by Manuel Garcia from the Spanish song book that I bought.  So there is any number of things to do where I can satisfy  my need to sing, to sparkle, to be center stage, to have fun, and to make an art form the centerpiece of my life.

The Year of Self-Esteem

At the beginning of this year, I made a number of  New Year's resolutions, most of which had to do with nurturing my self-esteem, as I wrote here.

I began with removing people from my Facebook friends list who never commented on anything I wrote, and continued on with my resolve by "unsubscribing" from the email list of opera companies that had treated me badly.  What's interesting is that in both instances I was asked why I was unsubscribing, and in the first instance I said I had been told by the director that I was too old (not because of how I looked - I was auditioning to sing La Zia Principessa in Suor Angelica - but because I was not a "future investment") and in the second instance I said I had had an unpleasant experience with the company (the one with the orchestra that cast me as Mother Jeanne in Carmelites).  So "good riddance to bad rubbish" as they say.

The latest example of my resolve had to do with someone suggested to me for Micaela in Carmen. Now OK, this is my project, and I am sinking a certain amount of money into it, and this is OK (I would rather do this than audition for a pay to sing - I can choose what role I sing and when we rehearse, and people will treat me respectfully), but I have limits.  The accompanist is, of course charging me a (totally reasonable) fee, and as the tenor I am using is an experienced professional singer who is  probably not that much younger than I am (he is certainly over 40 at any rate) I am not expecting him to contribute.  But when he suggested someone for Micaela (who, based on the year she graduated from college is probably no more than 25 or 26) and she said she didn't want to contribute something (I prorated what I would charge her based on the percentage of singing she would be doing) I really blew my stack.  Not out loud, but enough to make me want to move to an island where no one is under 50, none of us had ever performed professionally, and we can have our own theater/opera company/concert venue or whatever. And I decided to make myself a Facebook "fan" page.  If this young squirt can have a web site full of gushing prose (probably written by her) I can certainly make myself into a public figure if that's what I long for.  Long ago my therapist said to me that I should do something like this.  Because so much of my life feels Wizard of Oz-ish in that the issue isn't that I don't have a voice, it's that I don't have a diploma or a testimonial.

Anyhow, I was hoping not to have to talk to her until I had spoken with the tenor, because she was his pick, but she called me on the phone.  I restrained myself from losing my temper, but instead said that "I would not like myself if  I let someone your age piggyback on a project that I had put a lot of time and money into."  She said she didn't want to "pay to sing" (which actually isn't what I asked her to do; the producer of this concert pointed out that if the young woman went to a coach to learn a role she would have to pay that person, so she could think of this rehearsal accompanist that way).  She did say she respected my honesty and wanted to come to the concert.  And I think she is working as a waitress.  She does seem to have gotten cast in one of those community opera productions of the sort that were not interested in me (this particular one doesn't ring a bell) and she has a lovely voice, but then so do lots of young women. I wonder where she will be at my age?  Any happier or more successful?

In other news, I was pleased to see that there will, in fact, be no solos for Good Friday.  The music by Mendelssohn that we are singing is taken from Elijah and other of his oratorios and is in four parts, so I am singing alto.  That is fine.  The part is mostly in a middle register (not down in the basement) and I can enjoy having the biggest voice in the alto section.  There are already three trained singers in the soprano section (who all sing first, so I am in my element leading second) and only one in the alto section who has had some health problems and does not sing out full voice all the time.  And I may still get a solo spot on Maundy Thursday.

Carmen Update and A(nother) Reflection on Today's Young People

Yesterday evening I had a coaching session with the concert producer on the duet "Je Vais Danser en Votre Honneur".  Some interesting things came up.  First, she pointed out that the lower middle part of my range is not strong, so I need to sing all the "La la las" differently.  She said rather than sticking to where the "l"s are in the score, I should put in as many as I want to make the sound more pointed.  Also, I realized that the two pages of "La la las" are not all that interesting musically, so I will need to do something (aka act sexy and move around) to keep the piece vibrant.  She also suggested having the pianist play my notes underneath.  And she said she herself might play castanets!  For some of the later parts of the duet, she also said I should sing the optional higher notes.  These are not high notes; mostly Ds, Es, and one F.  She said she will get back to me regarding where to sing the higher, rather than the lower notes.  As a point of interest, she said she thinks that even though I have a mezzo range, my voice has a soprano color.  Now this could be said of many mezzos with voices of all sizes, including Ebe Stignani, whom years ago I was told I sounded like. It's so odd; I get so many conflicting messages about my voice type; the only thing that's consistent is that no matter what I do with my voice, it doesn't really function outside the Wikipedia mezzo range from low A to high A.

The other thing I've been doing is tightening up the selections I've made from the book.  I have really enjoyed this because it allows me to use the skills I use as a playwright.

So now I really need to dig into this duet!  One thing I am grateful to my choir director for is that he has taught me how to work on music: first the rhythm, then the words, then the notes.  I don't yet have any tools for memorizing, but I will figure it out (it's the words I have trouble memorizing, not the music).

As for how things are shaping up, here's a rundown:

Habanera (could sing in my sleep)
Sequidilla (need to learn the recit and, well, just accept that the B at the end is dicey - or transpose the page down.  I will ask the producer what she thinks.)
Chanson Boheme (in good shape; I may be able to get the Micaela to sing the bridges between the verses)
Je Vais Danser (need to learn from the score, not just by ear, and memorize the words)
Card Aria (may cut; if we keep it, need to memorize).
Death Scene (need to memorize)

We now have a narrator.  She is only 18!!!! (but in all fairness looks older; I would say mid 20s).  She is going to be a musical theater major at a prestigious university, and already has an amazingly pure, well-trained, and facile voice.  It is a small voice, but it sparkles like a jewel, with a flute-like extension at the top that I would kill for (some mezzos have it, but it is often not integrated with the rest of their voice).  She is equally at home singing in the classical style and belting.  She has been performing in public since she was 11, and received intensive vocal training in high school, similar to what young people get in conservatory pre-college programs.  She is really not that different from the two young women who became "stars" in the choir (one left for a paying church job).  Young, trained from a early age, able to sing classical music and to belt, with a focused sound throughout their ranges.

It is in the presence of this that I feel so inadequate.  Voices that are built as they are growing, and molded in the right direction, have something that voices that are discovered when a lot of damage is done and bad habits are ingrained, never will.  There are notes in my range that are full, ones that are not, notes that sound lovely, ones that often do not, passages that are still effortful, no matter how many approaches I try.  Something analogous is that I have very bad scoliosis.  That is why I keep getting shorter and why my legs are not the same length.  Nowadays this can be corrected in young people either with braces, or, as a last resort, surgery.  When I was growing up there wasn't even a name for it.  I just thought I was "klutzy", whereas in point of fact my body was out of alignment.  Everything starts so young now.  The preparation for future excellence doesn't even begin at 18 or 20 the way it did when I was growing up (of course there was always an exception for ballet, certain sports, and playing musical instruments) but now begins practically in grade school.  For example both the star sopranos who took the choir by storm had been singing seriously since before puberty. No one any more has a chance if they discover their passion at 30 or 40, not to mention over 50.  It isn't just "ageism"; it's that muscles are harder to train and shape.

So let's just hope that the musical, artistic, and literary wisdom that I've acquired over all these decades makes my age an asset, since in the scheme of things it is nothing but a liability.