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.
Monday, April 4, 2016
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
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.
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.
Monday, March 28, 2016
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
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).
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).
Sunday, February 21, 2016
What Do I Need?
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.
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.
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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