Trovatore went well. I was happy with how I sang, and my teacher was happy. And he sounded great despite having been battling a cold. The audience loved it although there were only half as many people as had come to Carmen. The only SNAFU was that the event planner was on vacation, and the person she had turned this over to left early and turned it over to someone else, so no one could find the programs. So there weren't any. But that was a minor matter.
The great sadness is that when the nurse came to see my partner on Wednesday she called 911 (I'm so grateful she was there - my partner never would have allowed me to do that) to take her to the ER if for no other reason than that she had a sprained ankle and could not even walk to the refrigerator. She was in the ER for over 24 hours before she got a bed. She had a UTI and pneumonia (a mild case) but I see a lot of other issues as well. She sleeps way too much and is confused some of the time. Legally, she is definitely compos mentis, and she did well on several parts of a memory test (the part she did not do well with involved sequences with numbers which is something she has never been able to understand), but she is too confused, in my opinion, to go back home and deal with trying to feed herself, understand materials that come in the mail, etc. At some point she will be transferred from the hospital to a subacute rehab, and from there maybe she will go into long-term care. She can't afford to have a home attendant every day and is not currently eligible for Medicaid. I think once she is in a facility, though, they have staff that could work on that.
Well, even after over 40 years sober in AA, I think it's only now that I understand the idea of "one day at a time".
But I have to go on with my own life. Fortunately Social Security covers half my expenses and I can always squeeze in 20 hours a week of copyediting to cover the other half.
And I am going to continue to sing although I am not going to plan anything big until I know what's going on with my partner. My next project can be finding a solo to sing during the period between Christmas and Epiphany, when the choir is off.
And I have her cat, Darby. So with him and my little Cash-Kiss (my new nickname for him) it's endless Tuxedo shenanigans.
Although tomorrow I have to arrange for Cash to have his nasal poly removed (the rescue people will pay for it).
Showing posts with label azucena. Show all posts
Showing posts with label azucena. Show all posts
Monday, October 17, 2016
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
Trovatore Take 2, and Other Things
Today was the second (and final) Trovatore rehearsal. We started from the top and included the narration. I didn't feel that I sang as well as last time (although I was much more secure with rhythms, tempi, etc.) but that may have been because I was being more self critical. Mostly I wasn't happy with the last B flat at the end - it went straight - although my teacher said it was good, just not as good as I can sing at my best.
I will do a small amount of practicing tomorrow, then have a lesson Thursday (I am not going to choir practice) and then mostly rest.
My partner is not well. Whatever she has is nonspecific, which is the problem. It is not a worsening of her core illnesses, COPD and a-fib. It is an overwhelming fatigue combined with her existence in a state that is always sort of halfway between being asleep and being awake.
A nurse is coming tomorrow to evaluate her. I will do what I can but I really need Sunday and Monday to be blackout dates with no stress. Whatever she has is not life threatening. The best thing in the world would be if she could be in a rehab for several weeks where she was fed and exercised. She does not do these things on her own. She is also now constantly guilt tripping me about not being there. Yes, if I seriously think about it the most important thing in my life is to cherish her for as long as possible, but if I don't throw my all into singing now, the window of opportunity will be past.
After the Trovatore performance I suppose I should have a moratorium on planning anything big (other than looking for an Advent/Christmas/Epiphany choir solo) until whatever is going on with her is sorted.
And on top of all this, I got a letter from LC. Several months ago, I deleted a post in which I said I hated her because hate was too strong a word. No, I do hate her. I rarely hate people. There were periods when I hated my mother, but really that has been it, certainly as an adult. She wrote to thank me for a page I had made for a memory book for her 80th birthday before she slammed the door on me (and no, she does not have dementia, that is not what is driving any of this) saying in a very high-handed way that as most of our 66 years of interaction have been good, she was going to keep it. After hand writing (with my hands shaking) three really cruel letters to her and then tearing them up, I sat down and typed something measured and reasonable, but still filled with rage. And I asked her not to write to me again. Her initial smarmy "last note" email said she would "appreciate it if I did not respond in any way", but apparently she thinks that it's OK for her to write when she feels like it, which is just not on and needs to be stopped. I had even given her an out several months ago by thanking her for the birthday flowers and offering to apologize if I had said anything offensive but she just repeated her statement that the correspondence "was not working for her" and wanted to leave it at that so that she didn't say something hurtful. But then she thought it was OK to write again. My therapist said that the two emails she wrote sounded like childish passive aggressive breakup texts of the kind that millennials send.
I really can't think of anything I could have said that would have been so offensive for her to enjoin me not to communicate with her. One thing I said in my letter was that she does not have the moral high ground, that dumping a friendship in the trash is much more morally reprehensible than talking about your personal problems when there's been a mass shooting somewhere.
Was I also responsible for the hideous end of this friendship? I suppose in a way. I thought she was the kind of friend (do these exist?) whom I could speak to (or write to) about anything I was thinking or feeling unless it was personally offensive. It was her idea to have this type of correspondence - where we delved deeply into things. I suppose that's always a minefield. Next time if someone wants that kind of interaction I will be wary. Or I just won't share things. I will save those for a therapist or for these pages. I suppose I hate her because I feel betrayed. She got me to open up and then hung me out to dry. I hope she sits with that letter I wrote and has a serious think about who was the really selfish one in this interaction. And (LOL!) a masterful touch - I had bought a book of stamps called "pets". I was quite startled to see that one of them was a snake. So I used that stamp on the letter to LC. Perfect! Her behavior to me was just like a rattlesnake attacking me by surprise from under a rock.
Oh, and one last thing about Trovatore. I realized that October is the perfect month for it, because with all the witches and curses and ghosts, it's a great Hallowe'en piece.
I will do a small amount of practicing tomorrow, then have a lesson Thursday (I am not going to choir practice) and then mostly rest.
My partner is not well. Whatever she has is nonspecific, which is the problem. It is not a worsening of her core illnesses, COPD and a-fib. It is an overwhelming fatigue combined with her existence in a state that is always sort of halfway between being asleep and being awake.
A nurse is coming tomorrow to evaluate her. I will do what I can but I really need Sunday and Monday to be blackout dates with no stress. Whatever she has is not life threatening. The best thing in the world would be if she could be in a rehab for several weeks where she was fed and exercised. She does not do these things on her own. She is also now constantly guilt tripping me about not being there. Yes, if I seriously think about it the most important thing in my life is to cherish her for as long as possible, but if I don't throw my all into singing now, the window of opportunity will be past.
After the Trovatore performance I suppose I should have a moratorium on planning anything big (other than looking for an Advent/Christmas/Epiphany choir solo) until whatever is going on with her is sorted.
And on top of all this, I got a letter from LC. Several months ago, I deleted a post in which I said I hated her because hate was too strong a word. No, I do hate her. I rarely hate people. There were periods when I hated my mother, but really that has been it, certainly as an adult. She wrote to thank me for a page I had made for a memory book for her 80th birthday before she slammed the door on me (and no, she does not have dementia, that is not what is driving any of this) saying in a very high-handed way that as most of our 66 years of interaction have been good, she was going to keep it. After hand writing (with my hands shaking) three really cruel letters to her and then tearing them up, I sat down and typed something measured and reasonable, but still filled with rage. And I asked her not to write to me again. Her initial smarmy "last note" email said she would "appreciate it if I did not respond in any way", but apparently she thinks that it's OK for her to write when she feels like it, which is just not on and needs to be stopped. I had even given her an out several months ago by thanking her for the birthday flowers and offering to apologize if I had said anything offensive but she just repeated her statement that the correspondence "was not working for her" and wanted to leave it at that so that she didn't say something hurtful. But then she thought it was OK to write again. My therapist said that the two emails she wrote sounded like childish passive aggressive breakup texts of the kind that millennials send.
I really can't think of anything I could have said that would have been so offensive for her to enjoin me not to communicate with her. One thing I said in my letter was that she does not have the moral high ground, that dumping a friendship in the trash is much more morally reprehensible than talking about your personal problems when there's been a mass shooting somewhere.
Was I also responsible for the hideous end of this friendship? I suppose in a way. I thought she was the kind of friend (do these exist?) whom I could speak to (or write to) about anything I was thinking or feeling unless it was personally offensive. It was her idea to have this type of correspondence - where we delved deeply into things. I suppose that's always a minefield. Next time if someone wants that kind of interaction I will be wary. Or I just won't share things. I will save those for a therapist or for these pages. I suppose I hate her because I feel betrayed. She got me to open up and then hung me out to dry. I hope she sits with that letter I wrote and has a serious think about who was the really selfish one in this interaction. And (LOL!) a masterful touch - I had bought a book of stamps called "pets". I was quite startled to see that one of them was a snake. So I used that stamp on the letter to LC. Perfect! Her behavior to me was just like a rattlesnake attacking me by surprise from under a rock.
Oh, and one last thing about Trovatore. I realized that October is the perfect month for it, because with all the witches and curses and ghosts, it's a great Hallowe'en piece.
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Trovatore Take 1
Yesterday was the first of two rehearsals for Il Trovatore. Because of everything that had been going on this past month - the loss of my Siamese, the introduction into my life and heart of my new kitty, my partner's continuing decline, computer problems - I had not had time ever to run through the entire program to see if I could pace myself, so I was worried.
Actually, my teacher had told me not to be, but I was still worried.
Well, my fears were groundless. I sang a personal best, and if I can sing that well in the performance I will be happy.
This doesn't mean that I can "rust" on my laurels, however. My teacher gave me a practice template, which I will stick to, and I will need to eat healthily (not too many sweets), rest, not get into screaming matches with people, and try, as much as possible, to avoid stress.
That latter is easier said than done, because my partner has sunk again into a scary nonspecific malaise (she nodded off during the ballet last week), and is less and less able to cope with daily living. Some things may need to change, but she is not at death's door, and can survive certainly until my performance is over. And someone is bringing her.
So wish me luck; that I can keep up this level of singing.
The accompanist told me how much more "bloom" my voice had on top, and he last heard me in May.
Actually, my teacher had told me not to be, but I was still worried.
Well, my fears were groundless. I sang a personal best, and if I can sing that well in the performance I will be happy.
This doesn't mean that I can "rust" on my laurels, however. My teacher gave me a practice template, which I will stick to, and I will need to eat healthily (not too many sweets), rest, not get into screaming matches with people, and try, as much as possible, to avoid stress.
That latter is easier said than done, because my partner has sunk again into a scary nonspecific malaise (she nodded off during the ballet last week), and is less and less able to cope with daily living. Some things may need to change, but she is not at death's door, and can survive certainly until my performance is over. And someone is bringing her.
So wish me luck; that I can keep up this level of singing.
The accompanist told me how much more "bloom" my voice had on top, and he last heard me in May.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Now I Will Always Have Cash on Hand
Well, right now it almost seems that this is becoming a cat blog instead of a singing blog!
Maybe these pastiches of opera and narrative are a new "niche" that I have found?
As of Monday, I have a new member of the family.
If you read my previous post, there was a black and white cat (sort of an imperfect tuxedo) named "Cashew" whom I met at the Koneko Cat Cafe.
Well, now he's mine and I've renamed him "Cash". He's sweet and loving and low key and likes to snuggle.
The only worry I have is that he has a nasal polyp that needs to be removed. The rescue people will pay to have it done, in fact they offered to have that taken care of before they brought him to me, but I didn't want that, I wanted him here to cherish for a while. I said I would contact them about the surgery after my concert. It is not an emergency, but my primary care vet said that I need to get it done because the polyp could get bigger and cause problems. Right now it just causes him to sound like he's snoring when he's sleeping, and his purr is a bit gutteral sounding.
Here are some photos.
His favorite places are the pillow that Charlotte used to sleep on, and this kitty condo. It hasn't had a cat in it for at least five years.
In other news, Trovatore is going really really well, and I have had fun working on the script.
Maybe these pastiches of opera and narrative are a new "niche" that I have found?
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Azucena Deconstructed
First, about the new color. I submitted my blog for some feedback, and one thing that was said was that the black background was not a good fit. So I am trying red. As a diva, there can never be too much red in my life, right?
Of course diddling around with anything techie makes me nervous, so I tend not to change things once that aspect is taken care of. Surprisingly, though, I am much better at handling technology that I think I am and am much better than most people my age. I installed Windows 10 by myself, for example. I think one issue is simply that I am not photographed very much and therefore have very few visuals to add here.
But now to the import of this post. I have a date to sing the Azucena scenes from Trovatore at the LGBT senior center on Monday October 17. I know what scenes I'm singing. I couldn't find a copy of the original play in English, so my teacher's wife can read from the libretto.
For all things Trovatore, go here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Il_trovatore
The amazing thing I discovered when telescoping the opera is that the entire romantic story between Leonora and Manrico can be removed and you've still got the story!! It's really about Azucena, her mother, the count who sentenced her mother to death, his brother, and Azucena's son (and which is which).
So I'm now wondering if the readings should fill the Leonora story in, or if it can just be omitted entirely and instead the readings will set the scene for what the audience will be hearing (like speaking the words to Ferrando's opening aria, for example).
In any event, I am really singing this very well, including the B flats. I thought the breakthrough in early 2015 was "it", but now I seem to have made another. I not only now can attack a B flat or a B natural off the cuff, I can do it full voice!! In my last two practices I sang two off the cuff B naturals that were truly O Don Fatale worthy! Is that in my future?
And when I started looking at Act 4 something interesting happened, which surprised me. Looking at all the opening recitative and imagining a woman sitting in a prison cell, knowing that she is going to be burned to death actually gave me the creeps. I mean I could actually feel what she was feeling. Now, OK, I know once I actually sing that music I can't do that (The Mentor once said "You are not supposed to feel anything; you are supposed to make the audience feel something") but it was interesting that I was that moved. I was not moved that way by the Act 2 music, probably because in that act she's having flashbacks not in terror about her own future. I was going to write that nothing like that had even happened to me when I was working on a role, but that of course is not true. If singing Dalila or Carmen always ended up making me horny, it makes sense that singing Azucena would take me to a very dark place, existentially. According to my teacher, she has PTSD from having spent her life in an intergenerational world of violence.
So now I'm all fired up!! (no pun intended) and am really looking forward to the next two months!!
Of course diddling around with anything techie makes me nervous, so I tend not to change things once that aspect is taken care of. Surprisingly, though, I am much better at handling technology that I think I am and am much better than most people my age. I installed Windows 10 by myself, for example. I think one issue is simply that I am not photographed very much and therefore have very few visuals to add here.
But now to the import of this post. I have a date to sing the Azucena scenes from Trovatore at the LGBT senior center on Monday October 17. I know what scenes I'm singing. I couldn't find a copy of the original play in English, so my teacher's wife can read from the libretto.
For all things Trovatore, go here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Il_trovatore
The amazing thing I discovered when telescoping the opera is that the entire romantic story between Leonora and Manrico can be removed and you've still got the story!! It's really about Azucena, her mother, the count who sentenced her mother to death, his brother, and Azucena's son (and which is which).
So I'm now wondering if the readings should fill the Leonora story in, or if it can just be omitted entirely and instead the readings will set the scene for what the audience will be hearing (like speaking the words to Ferrando's opening aria, for example).
In any event, I am really singing this very well, including the B flats. I thought the breakthrough in early 2015 was "it", but now I seem to have made another. I not only now can attack a B flat or a B natural off the cuff, I can do it full voice!! In my last two practices I sang two off the cuff B naturals that were truly O Don Fatale worthy! Is that in my future?
And when I started looking at Act 4 something interesting happened, which surprised me. Looking at all the opening recitative and imagining a woman sitting in a prison cell, knowing that she is going to be burned to death actually gave me the creeps. I mean I could actually feel what she was feeling. Now, OK, I know once I actually sing that music I can't do that (The Mentor once said "You are not supposed to feel anything; you are supposed to make the audience feel something") but it was interesting that I was that moved. I was not moved that way by the Act 2 music, probably because in that act she's having flashbacks not in terror about her own future. I was going to write that nothing like that had even happened to me when I was working on a role, but that of course is not true. If singing Dalila or Carmen always ended up making me horny, it makes sense that singing Azucena would take me to a very dark place, existentially. According to my teacher, she has PTSD from having spent her life in an intergenerational world of violence.
So now I'm all fired up!! (no pun intended) and am really looking forward to the next two months!!
Monday, August 1, 2016
Concert
Overall, the concert went well. I sang well. Of course I wasn't singing anything all that vocally challenging other than the Handel. I made some (probably unnoticed) mistakes in the two most musically challenging pieces: the Jake Heggie/Sister Helen song "Love is" and "Evergreen".
The biggest distraction (other than the piano being out of tune, which I didn't know because my accompanist couldn't come with me on the day that I was looking at the room, and anyhow I couldn't get to the piano that afternoon because someone was plunking on it) was a woman with Alzheimers, probably a former singer, who, like a dog responding to a whistle, sang along with me every time I hit a "high" note (meaning an F or an F sharp). What she did, mostly, was sing the note an octave higher. She really got going with this during "Love is", which was unfortunate, because I was having enough trouble. She also did this all during "Mon Coeur", which annoyed some of my friends, but in that instance it didn't faze me because I could sing that aria in my sleep.
Several people sang along during the Gay 90s songs, which was fine, and my partner sang along during "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", which was what I wanted.
All the people who told me they were coming did come, and some have made videos, which they will get to me soon.
My teacher and his wife were there and he said he was "proud of me" for not letting the distraction of the woman singing break my concentration. He called me a "pro". And then started talking about Trovatore, which made me happy. He said he couldn't find a copy of the play in English that was reasonably priced (he found one online for $100) so he is going to see if he can find one in Italian and then his wife can translate it into English.
And before the concert started the whole room sang "Happy Birthday" to me because I had said that the concert was for my birthday.
So this was the special birthday I dreamed of, and it certainly makes up for last year.
The only fly in the ointment was I got an answer to my thank you note (in which I apologized for whatever I had said that had put her off) from LC that was incredibly smarmy. She said her two most important values were being honest and being kind, but that she didn't feel she could tell me why she didn't want me to write to her without being hurtful, so she wasn't going to say anything, Then she had the unmitigated gall to say she hoped we could part on good terms. I wasn't going to write back, but I didn't want her to think she had "won" that battle; saying in a high-handed tone that she wasn't going to say the unkind thing she was thinking and then saying she hoped we could part on good terms. I wrote three responses to her, each of which I deleted, before sending a final answer. I basically said that she had already been hurtful, that I really didn't care if she disliked me, as she is not an integral part of my life, but that no, she can't have her "cake and eat it too" and no, we are no longer on good terms. I felt that by encouraging me to do a lot of intimate sharing and then dumping me she had done a lot of damage. So she can sit with that. I deleted every email exchange we had had over the past two years, except for some Jacquie Lawson cards that she sent me, and of course I will keep the flowers. So now it's time to move on.
I had a good solid practice session singing through "Stride la Vampa" and "Condotta".
The biggest distraction (other than the piano being out of tune, which I didn't know because my accompanist couldn't come with me on the day that I was looking at the room, and anyhow I couldn't get to the piano that afternoon because someone was plunking on it) was a woman with Alzheimers, probably a former singer, who, like a dog responding to a whistle, sang along with me every time I hit a "high" note (meaning an F or an F sharp). What she did, mostly, was sing the note an octave higher. She really got going with this during "Love is", which was unfortunate, because I was having enough trouble. She also did this all during "Mon Coeur", which annoyed some of my friends, but in that instance it didn't faze me because I could sing that aria in my sleep.
Several people sang along during the Gay 90s songs, which was fine, and my partner sang along during "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", which was what I wanted.
All the people who told me they were coming did come, and some have made videos, which they will get to me soon.
My teacher and his wife were there and he said he was "proud of me" for not letting the distraction of the woman singing break my concentration. He called me a "pro". And then started talking about Trovatore, which made me happy. He said he couldn't find a copy of the play in English that was reasonably priced (he found one online for $100) so he is going to see if he can find one in Italian and then his wife can translate it into English.
And before the concert started the whole room sang "Happy Birthday" to me because I had said that the concert was for my birthday.
So this was the special birthday I dreamed of, and it certainly makes up for last year.
The only fly in the ointment was I got an answer to my thank you note (in which I apologized for whatever I had said that had put her off) from LC that was incredibly smarmy. She said her two most important values were being honest and being kind, but that she didn't feel she could tell me why she didn't want me to write to her without being hurtful, so she wasn't going to say anything, Then she had the unmitigated gall to say she hoped we could part on good terms. I wasn't going to write back, but I didn't want her to think she had "won" that battle; saying in a high-handed tone that she wasn't going to say the unkind thing she was thinking and then saying she hoped we could part on good terms. I wrote three responses to her, each of which I deleted, before sending a final answer. I basically said that she had already been hurtful, that I really didn't care if she disliked me, as she is not an integral part of my life, but that no, she can't have her "cake and eat it too" and no, we are no longer on good terms. I felt that by encouraging me to do a lot of intimate sharing and then dumping me she had done a lot of damage. So she can sit with that. I deleted every email exchange we had had over the past two years, except for some Jacquie Lawson cards that she sent me, and of course I will keep the flowers. So now it's time to move on.
I had a good solid practice session singing through "Stride la Vampa" and "Condotta".
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Old Foes Become New Friends (2)
Well, my concert music is going so well (I can't think of any "tweaking" that needs to be done at this point, other than making sure I am spot on with entrances in the Heggie pieces) that I didn't want to sing it at yesterday's lesson, so I sang through "Stride la Vampa" (which I don't think I'd sung in 35 years) and "Condotta" preferatory to my (tentative) planned Fall concert featuring Act 2 of Trovatore.
All I can say is "Wow"!
I can't believe that I actually know what to do with that B flat!!! For the past two years I have been doing an exercise consisting of a descending octave scale. For the previous eight years I could not do this above a high A natural, but then one day, something broke through that "gag reflex" and I started being able to do the exercise starting on a B flat, then starting on a B natural, and now I can even do it starting on a C!!! So I just sing "figlio avea bruciato" with the syllable "a" on a high A, then just chill while the tenor sings "Quale orror!" and vomit out that B flat. The point is that everything felt so much easier.
Posts are too numerous to link to, but if you read some of what I wrote in the Fall of 2011, you will see what a struggle I had with this aria. Now I think the whole thing is going to be fun. (Yes, the word "fun" is OK here; it's a melodrama, not a Requiem.)
Otherwise things are a bit shaky monetarily, but I'm optimistic. I got some more work (I'm hoping I can just earn enough to supplement my Social Security), I signed my new lease, and I should get my first Social Security payment a month from now. I got a birthday card from one of the people whose card came back to them in the mail last year and it was a big card covered with glitter; just my kind of thing.
Wish me luck for Sunday, although I am not nervous at all - other than wondering if my partner will be upset by my singing "Mon Coeur". If she is, I can tell her my teacher helped me plan the program. I put her (my partner's) name in the program as the title of one of the song sets, so I'm hoping she stays. I am going to go get her on the second verse of "Let Me Call You Sweetheart". I hope I don't cry.
And did I say I'm ending with "Home Sweet Home"? That was Joan Sutherland's favorite encore, and home is my and my partner's favorite subject.
All I can say is "Wow"!
I can't believe that I actually know what to do with that B flat!!! For the past two years I have been doing an exercise consisting of a descending octave scale. For the previous eight years I could not do this above a high A natural, but then one day, something broke through that "gag reflex" and I started being able to do the exercise starting on a B flat, then starting on a B natural, and now I can even do it starting on a C!!! So I just sing "figlio avea bruciato" with the syllable "a" on a high A, then just chill while the tenor sings "Quale orror!" and vomit out that B flat. The point is that everything felt so much easier.
Posts are too numerous to link to, but if you read some of what I wrote in the Fall of 2011, you will see what a struggle I had with this aria. Now I think the whole thing is going to be fun. (Yes, the word "fun" is OK here; it's a melodrama, not a Requiem.)
Otherwise things are a bit shaky monetarily, but I'm optimistic. I got some more work (I'm hoping I can just earn enough to supplement my Social Security), I signed my new lease, and I should get my first Social Security payment a month from now. I got a birthday card from one of the people whose card came back to them in the mail last year and it was a big card covered with glitter; just my kind of thing.
Wish me luck for Sunday, although I am not nervous at all - other than wondering if my partner will be upset by my singing "Mon Coeur". If she is, I can tell her my teacher helped me plan the program. I put her (my partner's) name in the program as the title of one of the song sets, so I'm hoping she stays. I am going to go get her on the second verse of "Let Me Call You Sweetheart". I hope I don't cry.
And did I say I'm ending with "Home Sweet Home"? That was Joan Sutherland's favorite encore, and home is my and my partner's favorite subject.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Boot Camp Review
Reading this post I was reminded that I haven't posted anything since getting through my first week without my beloved big macho tabby cat, and surviving the brouhaha surrounding the hurricane.
Despite grieving over my cat, and being furious beyond words with my partner (one of the social workers involved with her case, who happens to be a big tall gay man, offered to help her around the house to get ready for the hurricane and she said no thank you because I was there and could help her instead), I actually did better than I had the week before and would give myself a grade of "B".
I finally figured out something to do that might help me with that bloody B flat (and I have also decided if it sounds horrible and everything else in the scene sounds good, I can be proud of myself - although I will do everything in my power not to let that happen) and got a lot of ideas from listening to the greatest singer in my fach, Dolora Zajick sing the role of Azucena on a tv broacast. Her voice is different from mine in that it gets lighter as she goes higher, but, for example, I noticed that she does not take a breath before the word "brucciato" and saves her energy for the B flat, although my teacher said, if he had any criticism of her, it would be the note sounded too "pretty", which isn't how it's supposed to sound.
I still sound better if I start the aria in the middle, so I need to trick myself into thinking I'm starting from scratch when I get to "La mano convulsa". I have about four measures to recoup, so the choice is mine: I can either use that time to panic or to calm down and regroup.
Of course because of helping my partner prepare for the hurricane (I had nothing to do at my end, really) I didn't sing for about three days in the past week, so that meant I had 3-4 solid practice hours, and then yesterday I had a lesson.
I will give myself points for the fact that on one of the days I didn't sing I went through the score of Trovatore and spoke through the words in the scene and I also reviewed the scene silently when I was on public transport going back and forth to my lesson. I can get a fair amount done then.
Thursday is September 1, so the countdown to this little concert begins and I have administrative work to do.
Sunday was the day I was scheduled to sing the alto solo from Bach cantata 83 "Erfreute Zeit" at the church service but I haven't heard from the choir director. I hope he's not stranded somewhere. Needless to say we missed the planned rehearsal last Sunday.
And looking toward the long term, unless this concert is a complete disaster (can't imagine it would be - other than the dreaded high note I sing the material I'm doing very well) I will start seeing what I can do about this Verdi Requiem I've been talking about.
Despite grieving over my cat, and being furious beyond words with my partner (one of the social workers involved with her case, who happens to be a big tall gay man, offered to help her around the house to get ready for the hurricane and she said no thank you because I was there and could help her instead), I actually did better than I had the week before and would give myself a grade of "B".
I finally figured out something to do that might help me with that bloody B flat (and I have also decided if it sounds horrible and everything else in the scene sounds good, I can be proud of myself - although I will do everything in my power not to let that happen) and got a lot of ideas from listening to the greatest singer in my fach, Dolora Zajick sing the role of Azucena on a tv broacast. Her voice is different from mine in that it gets lighter as she goes higher, but, for example, I noticed that she does not take a breath before the word "brucciato" and saves her energy for the B flat, although my teacher said, if he had any criticism of her, it would be the note sounded too "pretty", which isn't how it's supposed to sound.
I still sound better if I start the aria in the middle, so I need to trick myself into thinking I'm starting from scratch when I get to "La mano convulsa". I have about four measures to recoup, so the choice is mine: I can either use that time to panic or to calm down and regroup.
Of course because of helping my partner prepare for the hurricane (I had nothing to do at my end, really) I didn't sing for about three days in the past week, so that meant I had 3-4 solid practice hours, and then yesterday I had a lesson.
I will give myself points for the fact that on one of the days I didn't sing I went through the score of Trovatore and spoke through the words in the scene and I also reviewed the scene silently when I was on public transport going back and forth to my lesson. I can get a fair amount done then.
Thursday is September 1, so the countdown to this little concert begins and I have administrative work to do.
Sunday was the day I was scheduled to sing the alto solo from Bach cantata 83 "Erfreute Zeit" at the church service but I haven't heard from the choir director. I hope he's not stranded somewhere. Needless to say we missed the planned rehearsal last Sunday.
And looking toward the long term, unless this concert is a complete disaster (can't imagine it would be - other than the dreaded high note I sing the material I'm doing very well) I will start seeing what I can do about this Verdi Requiem I've been talking about.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Sad News and a Day Off
Yesterday, during a routine vet visit, my beloved 13 year old cat Branwell Bronte, died (apparently of a heart attack).
I am still in shock and very sad. I had gotten Branwell from a shelter as company for my tiny Siamese Charlotte Bronte.
As years went by he did not get along with my tiny miniature wire dachshund Chester
and finally they had a showdown in which Chester was the loser and had to have stitches.
So I sent Chester to live with my partner. They bonded together like glue, and I know one of the reasons she is dragging her feet about moving into assisted living is that she wouldn't want to take Chester with her (you are allowed to have a pet there - a cat or small dog - but Chester is old and cranky and might bite someone). Now the coast is clear - Chester and Charlotte love each other and so I could bring him home, and get my partner her own cat once she settles in.
Yesterday I was sad and in shock, but as I have no paid leave, I had to get back to my laptop and back to work.
I did however, take the day off from singing. To sing properly requires buoyant energy and I didn't have any.
I must sing today, though, so I can continue to overcome my terror of the B flat in "Condotta", polish the recits, and also work on a solo from a Bach cantata that I am singing in church on September 4.
It's funny, opera is my challege, because no matter how much I love it, and no matter how ideally my temperament and voice type are suited to it, I know that my extreme upper register, and my stamina, are both iffy. (Great if all the stars are in alignment, if not, not.)
But Bach is my joy. Pure joy. No high notes to scare me, and lots of runs, trills, and ornaments, which, for me, for some reason, come so easily and naturally, that I just enjoy myself. I never run out of breath, apparently, and can sing every note without fudging.
I was reading an article about Anna Netrebko in which she is quoted as saying that she sings Mozart and Handel to massage her voice after singing too much Puccini. I suppose I do the same thing with Bach, although I never would have thought of it that way. Maybe that's why my voice sounds young and fresh, even at 61 (if I stay away from the extreme top and bottom) and stays agile. And like all choir singers, I have always had perfect intonation.
Today I plan to work until about 4 or 4:30, then practice, and then settle down, score in hand, and listen to the greatest singer in my fach, Dolora Zajick sing Azucena. I hope I can learn something. I saw her in the role live, but there's nothing like being so close I can watch her breathe.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
One Step Back and....Follies
The reason I am sitting here writing this late at night is that I just got home from Follies. A friend had sold me her ticket at half price because she was going to be out of town.
I don't plan to recap everything about the show here, you can read about this production here.
It had many luminous stars, including Bernadette Peters, who is a year older than I am and looks and sounds luscious (and in this production she actually sings up in an operatic range - something I had never heard her do before).
For me, of course, the star of the evening was Rosalind Elias. She is 82 and her voice is still velvety, luscious, and fresh. I don't know how high she sang - maybe up to an F or F sharp, but if she is sounding like that at her age, I should certainly be able to sing the material I am singing for at least another decade if not longer. And interestingly, her number (a duet with her younger self, sung by a young lyric soprano) got the most applause of any in the show.
As for the "one step back", at today's lesson I had a bear of a time with that bloody B flat in "Condotta" again. I have no trouble singing it if I just sing the five measures before, but singing from the beginning I get there, sound great on the A, and then just panic, gasp for breath, and scream. My teacher will be singing it with me as a duet, and he said just to sing the A with him on "Quale Orror" and if I can scoop up a teensy bit to the B flat, do that, and then it won't be hard. Everything else I'm singing in that program is easy and fun.
I am feeling bummed out because it's very unusual to sound worse in a lesson than I did practicing at home (yesterday I didn't sound great, but I thought I sounded better than I did today). (Although I sang long arpeggios up to a full voice high C, something I can't seem to do at home.)
I should add here that I have been having a very, very, very hard time with personal things over the past few days. My partner, who is 15 years older than I am (we are really in some ways separated - we don't live together) and in poor health is more and more unable to take care of herself. I am now involved with three social service agencies trying to set something up - either get her into assisted living or have an aide in the house, but she is balking at everything. I am very drained and have spent a lot of time on the phone (and my speaking voice is a disaster - I have never been able to place it properly particularly when I'm upset).
So now I am going to bed. One wonderful thing about being a freelancer is that I don't have to set the alarm most of the time, except on Sunday when I sing in church.
I am getting up in the morning, talking to one social worker on the phone, working (I earn my living editing medical journals), going to see another social worker, and then coming home to practice. I am going to read an affirmation that I printed out (I will have to look for it!) and then go back to "Condotta" and try to sing through it without panicking at the dreaded spot like a horse balking at a fence.
I don't plan to recap everything about the show here, you can read about this production here.
It had many luminous stars, including Bernadette Peters, who is a year older than I am and looks and sounds luscious (and in this production she actually sings up in an operatic range - something I had never heard her do before).
For me, of course, the star of the evening was Rosalind Elias. She is 82 and her voice is still velvety, luscious, and fresh. I don't know how high she sang - maybe up to an F or F sharp, but if she is sounding like that at her age, I should certainly be able to sing the material I am singing for at least another decade if not longer. And interestingly, her number (a duet with her younger self, sung by a young lyric soprano) got the most applause of any in the show.
As for the "one step back", at today's lesson I had a bear of a time with that bloody B flat in "Condotta" again. I have no trouble singing it if I just sing the five measures before, but singing from the beginning I get there, sound great on the A, and then just panic, gasp for breath, and scream. My teacher will be singing it with me as a duet, and he said just to sing the A with him on "Quale Orror" and if I can scoop up a teensy bit to the B flat, do that, and then it won't be hard. Everything else I'm singing in that program is easy and fun.
I am feeling bummed out because it's very unusual to sound worse in a lesson than I did practicing at home (yesterday I didn't sound great, but I thought I sounded better than I did today). (Although I sang long arpeggios up to a full voice high C, something I can't seem to do at home.)
I should add here that I have been having a very, very, very hard time with personal things over the past few days. My partner, who is 15 years older than I am (we are really in some ways separated - we don't live together) and in poor health is more and more unable to take care of herself. I am now involved with three social service agencies trying to set something up - either get her into assisted living or have an aide in the house, but she is balking at everything. I am very drained and have spent a lot of time on the phone (and my speaking voice is a disaster - I have never been able to place it properly particularly when I'm upset).
So now I am going to bed. One wonderful thing about being a freelancer is that I don't have to set the alarm most of the time, except on Sunday when I sing in church.
I am getting up in the morning, talking to one social worker on the phone, working (I earn my living editing medical journals), going to see another social worker, and then coming home to practice. I am going to read an affirmation that I printed out (I will have to look for it!) and then go back to "Condotta" and try to sing through it without panicking at the dreaded spot like a horse balking at a fence.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
A Gypsy on the Move
Well, yesterday I had the best practice session I've had, probably since I've been working on the "Condotta" scene.
I think it was a combination of:
Focusing on what my teacher had told me on Tuesday about keeping my ribcage lifed and inflated and not breathing too low.
Thinking "aerobic" (thanks to Peg from NC!)
When all is said and done, I really don't get enough aerobic exercise. I wouldn't trade working at home on my own schedule for going back to working in an office, however much less money I'm making now, but I get even less exercise now than I did then. I probably get up from my "desk" a lot more now, but I don't walk as far (we're talking about a studio apartment about the size of the average luxury hotel room) and there are days when I don't go out in the fresh air at all. Of course I make up for that at some point by taking walks to do errands in the sunlight and working in the evenings on some days, but when I do, I probably don't walk as fast.
Also there's the issue of my knee. During the long stretch when I wasn't singing I took adult ballet classes from time to time but that is now out of the question. If I haven't mentioned it here, I smashed up my knee by tripping over the pavement in 2004 and I can't run or jump. What I can do, is put on bouncy music and dance. If I keep my upper body moving, I can get some aerobic exercise without coming down like a ton of bricks on my feet which could loosen the pins holding the six pieces of my kneecap together.
So in any event, yesterday when I was singing "Condotta", I kept moving, particularly as it moved toward the faster section. Why shouldn't she be moving when she's recounting the story of grabbing the baby and tossing him into the fire? And I can certainly move on those two measures with the A and the B flat. Even moving a little will keep the blood pumping and will get rid of the tension that accumulates when I'm standing still, particularly as with all my orthopedic problems there's never really a comfortable way to stand that doesn't cause tension, which I think is part of the problem.
The bad news? I still can't blow up a balloon. For all I know that takes a different sort of breath control from singing Bach or Handel.
I think it was a combination of:
Focusing on what my teacher had told me on Tuesday about keeping my ribcage lifed and inflated and not breathing too low.
Thinking "aerobic" (thanks to Peg from NC!)
When all is said and done, I really don't get enough aerobic exercise. I wouldn't trade working at home on my own schedule for going back to working in an office, however much less money I'm making now, but I get even less exercise now than I did then. I probably get up from my "desk" a lot more now, but I don't walk as far (we're talking about a studio apartment about the size of the average luxury hotel room) and there are days when I don't go out in the fresh air at all. Of course I make up for that at some point by taking walks to do errands in the sunlight and working in the evenings on some days, but when I do, I probably don't walk as fast.
Also there's the issue of my knee. During the long stretch when I wasn't singing I took adult ballet classes from time to time but that is now out of the question. If I haven't mentioned it here, I smashed up my knee by tripping over the pavement in 2004 and I can't run or jump. What I can do, is put on bouncy music and dance. If I keep my upper body moving, I can get some aerobic exercise without coming down like a ton of bricks on my feet which could loosen the pins holding the six pieces of my kneecap together.
So in any event, yesterday when I was singing "Condotta", I kept moving, particularly as it moved toward the faster section. Why shouldn't she be moving when she's recounting the story of grabbing the baby and tossing him into the fire? And I can certainly move on those two measures with the A and the B flat. Even moving a little will keep the blood pumping and will get rid of the tension that accumulates when I'm standing still, particularly as with all my orthopedic problems there's never really a comfortable way to stand that doesn't cause tension, which I think is part of the problem.
The bad news? I still can't blow up a balloon. For all I know that takes a different sort of breath control from singing Bach or Handel.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Progress
"Condotta" is going better. The secret is to build up energy and buoyancy, not tension. This is a piece with lots of different sections, and plenty of breaks, so there's really no reason why I should get tied up in a knot. I am now at the point where I can always sing that B flat if I start fairly close to the section where it is - the trick is to be able to do it after singing the entire piece. It is not a tiring thing to sing. If anything, the monotony of it can sap my energy. Yesterday I sang through it and the first time I was choking by the time I got to the B flat and then I sang through it again, paying attention to how I felt every second to see if I could pick up clues to what was causing all that tension. I have to recoup myself if I even feel the tiniest smidge of tension creeping in. And this is something I can do. Staying "bouncy" helps, which is really quite hilarious when you think that I'm singing about watching my mother being burned at the stake and throwing a baby into the fire. But then the drama is in the music. As Maria Callas was reported to have said, just look at the score. It's all there. Or as The Mentor once said "You are not supposed to feel anything. You are supposed to make the audience feel something." I learned that with the Judgment Scene from Aida. I don't have to feel dramatic. I just have to follow all the markings in the score. If the character is getting agitated there will be short notes, rests, staccato. I see this in "Condotta" as well. Or as the great Susan Eichhorn Young said to me when I sang "Acerba Volutta" for her, I can be dramatic during the musical passages when I'm not singing. (Although at this point I'm best off using those breaks to get the tension out of my body.)
So I sing this aria every day. I will sing it until I have no more fear of that bloody B flat and then I'll move on to memorizing the following scene. I pretty much have the Aida scenes memorized.
And tomorrow Don Carlo is on tv. I'm not crazy about the cast, but I'm always game to see another Eboli.
Next year I'm going to sing O Don Fatale in the original key, come Hell or Highwater!
So I sing this aria every day. I will sing it until I have no more fear of that bloody B flat and then I'll move on to memorizing the following scene. I pretty much have the Aida scenes memorized.
And tomorrow Don Carlo is on tv. I'm not crazy about the cast, but I'm always game to see another Eboli.
Next year I'm going to sing O Don Fatale in the original key, come Hell or Highwater!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
A Good Lesson, A "Trick" I Pray Works, and Character Deconstruction
In my last post I wrote about how much easier it is to sing that bloody B flat in "Condotta" in the context of the duet. So at my lesson yesterday my teacher decided what we will do is: I will sing the measure with the high A. Then he has a measure with a high A. He will hold it an extra count, at which point I will come in securely on an A (something I certainly know how to do) and will portamento up to the B flat. The trick is to take a breath while he's singing. A good one, not a gasp that causes me to freeze because I'm scared.
In the context of the scene, the whole thing actually goes by very fast. You think it in "2", so the B flat is only two counts and then we are right into the next thing. In fact I realized I was so panicked over the B flat that I have no idea where my next entrance is so I need to work on those next few measures. It's actually in strict time - it just sounds hysterical.
Then my teacher and I were talking about the character of Azucena. I keep thinking of her as an "old lady" but really, she can't be more than 40 or 42. On the other hand biologically she is much older than I am. She sleeps outdoors and probably has post-traumatic stress syndrome if she's seen her mother and a baby burned to death. The beginning of "Condotta" is very monotonous (unlike in pieces where the problem is getting tired, the problem here is getting lazy because it's so monotonous) which my teacher explained is because this is a story that she's told over and over and over and over and even Manrico is bored, but then she starts getting into stuff he's never heard before and by the time it ends, no one is sure which baby was which.
Which reminds me. I cut my singing teeth on Gilbert and Sullivan. When I was in my early 20s I sang all the contralto roles with a repertoire company. I was smoking like a chimney and had the perfect low smoky sound. I remember playing Dame Hannah in Ruddigore and even at the time was pretty sure her opening song "Sir Rupert Murgatroyd his leisure and his riches" was a parody of "Condotta". In fact the whole operetta and also the baby mixup business in Pinafore are probably meant to parody Il Trovatore, which is the opera that the scene I am working on comes from (I just assumed all readers knew that but maybe not).
Toward the end of the lesson we talked about the program for the concert and decided we will make it all Verdi. We will start with the trio from Aida, the maybe the soprano will do an aria from Aida, then he and I will do the Trovatore scene which actually is quite long, then there will be an intermission, and afterwards he and the soprano will do a scene from Otello, then she and I will do the Aida duet, and then we'll end with the "Drinking Song" from Traviata which is how he and the soprano have often ended concerts. (I can sing Flora, which is really the chorus part).
So except for that bloody B flat, the rest of the program will be fun.
I probably won't do any singing today (I am going to the hairdresser and then my partner and I have free tickets to see the Broadway show Memphis.
In the context of the scene, the whole thing actually goes by very fast. You think it in "2", so the B flat is only two counts and then we are right into the next thing. In fact I realized I was so panicked over the B flat that I have no idea where my next entrance is so I need to work on those next few measures. It's actually in strict time - it just sounds hysterical.
Then my teacher and I were talking about the character of Azucena. I keep thinking of her as an "old lady" but really, she can't be more than 40 or 42. On the other hand biologically she is much older than I am. She sleeps outdoors and probably has post-traumatic stress syndrome if she's seen her mother and a baby burned to death. The beginning of "Condotta" is very monotonous (unlike in pieces where the problem is getting tired, the problem here is getting lazy because it's so monotonous) which my teacher explained is because this is a story that she's told over and over and over and over and even Manrico is bored, but then she starts getting into stuff he's never heard before and by the time it ends, no one is sure which baby was which.
Which reminds me. I cut my singing teeth on Gilbert and Sullivan. When I was in my early 20s I sang all the contralto roles with a repertoire company. I was smoking like a chimney and had the perfect low smoky sound. I remember playing Dame Hannah in Ruddigore and even at the time was pretty sure her opening song "Sir Rupert Murgatroyd his leisure and his riches" was a parody of "Condotta". In fact the whole operetta and also the baby mixup business in Pinafore are probably meant to parody Il Trovatore, which is the opera that the scene I am working on comes from (I just assumed all readers knew that but maybe not).
Toward the end of the lesson we talked about the program for the concert and decided we will make it all Verdi. We will start with the trio from Aida, the maybe the soprano will do an aria from Aida, then he and I will do the Trovatore scene which actually is quite long, then there will be an intermission, and afterwards he and the soprano will do a scene from Otello, then she and I will do the Aida duet, and then we'll end with the "Drinking Song" from Traviata which is how he and the soprano have often ended concerts. (I can sing Flora, which is really the chorus part).
So except for that bloody B flat, the rest of the program will be fun.
I probably won't do any singing today (I am going to the hairdresser and then my partner and I have free tickets to see the Broadway show Memphis.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Condotta
I realize I've written a lot about working on the aria "Condotta Ell'Era in Ceppi" but have never posted a link to it. Here is an absolutely mind-blowing version with the great Fiorenza Cossotto, who sang the role in the 70s.
Only thing is I think her wig is a bit inappropriate. Azucena is a gypsy living in 15th Century Spain who sleeps outdoors in the dirt and I'm sure she doesn't even have a mirror, let alone a hairdresser!
Only thing is I think her wig is a bit inappropriate. Azucena is a gypsy living in 15th Century Spain who sleeps outdoors in the dirt and I'm sure she doesn't even have a mirror, let alone a hairdresser!
Monday, February 21, 2011
A Possible Snub and A Good Practice
I shouldn't really care about this, but...
One place I have had as a venue to strut my stuff for the last two years (2009 and 2010) was, believe it or not, the old Unitarian church where I found God, my voice, and The Mentor Who Shall Not Be Discussed.
Not as a choir soloist, but as a guest artist in a cabaret entitled "Divine Drag" and I forget what else, to raise money for an LGBT youth shelter.
The first year I decided to sing the Habanera from Carmen. Yes, there's more drag for mezzos in opera than you can shake a stick at, but I've been there, done that, and, to quote something a colleague said in another context - I'm done. Meaning I'm done playing the LGBT card. I'm a big buxom girl with a big voice and I ain't playing any more boys. So I laughingly decided, well, for a WASP-y looking girl to put on a black wig and some gypsy duds is drag enough. As I mentioned here, I was once told I was too, well, white to play Carmen and something about that stuck with me.
Well, divine drag it was and it was on Valentine's Day and I got to make peace with himself.
And singing was only half the fun. Even more fun was getting to have a professional makeup job done by the "lady" sharing the photo with me. I know many women get to experience that sort of thing, not just performing artists, but gals who have had formal weddings, even Bat Mitzvahs. But when your mother's a communist, that sort of thing is just not in the culture (hence my love affair with dressing up?)
Well, the following year, even though I had had the perm from Hell and was definitely having a bad hair day, I upped the ante and went for Sappho's "O Ma Lyre Immortelle". This is a somewhat obscure mezzo aria that is quite lovely, and has a scenery chewing coda complete with a high B flat. I don't know why, but I've never had a problem with that particular B flat. Maybe because she's screaming before throwing herself into the ocean.
I sang well. Not my best (the backstage area was full of incense dust) but I hung onto that note for dear life and got thunderous applause. The audience was full of gay men and they love a scenery chewing diva. And I milked it for all it was worth, curtesying in the traditional diva way, what? seven times? Well, I was on a bill with pop singers, folk singers, dancers, and comics. So I had the diva moment all to myself.
But getting back to the "snub". The person hosting this event year after year is my bass friend, the one who sang in the nursing home concert with me. Both years I sang in the event because he invited me (a nice change from constantly feeling I have to do it all myself). Well, this year there was no invite, which I didn't dwell on. I think I had told him I was doing Carmelites and anyhow there might not have been a cabaret this year as the church has a new music director. Well, this morning I searched my email for the bass's address because I wanted to tell him I had a copy of "Ich Habe Genug" for bass solo (long story, not worth detailing here)and did he want it. And when I searched my email for his last name, it came up in the church newsletter, which I still get, saying he was running the cabaret again (it was this past Saturday). Now true, an earlier mentioned asked for volunteers, but no. I am not volunteering for that sort of thing. I expect to be asked. So what was the deal? I didn't mention it in my email to him because I want to see if he mentions it but still I wonder. Did the minister at the church (who deserves Barbara Bush's epithet that rhymes with rich) say "I don't want Babydramatic here again?" I know both times I sang in the event she said nothing other than to ask me how my partner was. (Yes, this is one of the reasons why I have stayed at the Lutheran church. Even though I'm not a parishioner, the pastors always say something nice when I sing.) Well, I can't brood about this. It's what AA calls "the luxury department" meaning it's a luxury to scratch your brain trying to figure out why someone did or didn't do something.
As for the second half of my post title, I had a really good practice. I can hit the dreaded note in "Condotta" if I use the portamento and I even had a good run through my nemesis, aka the ascending phrase in the Amneris/Radames duet, which I haven't looked at in several months. And "Erfreute Zeit", aka Cantata 83, really rocks. I never was that into making a big show out of low notes before but as this piece doesn't have any high notes, I will milk them (and the rapid fire fioratura) for all it's worth.
One place I have had as a venue to strut my stuff for the last two years (2009 and 2010) was, believe it or not, the old Unitarian church where I found God, my voice, and The Mentor Who Shall Not Be Discussed.
Not as a choir soloist, but as a guest artist in a cabaret entitled "Divine Drag" and I forget what else, to raise money for an LGBT youth shelter.
The first year I decided to sing the Habanera from Carmen. Yes, there's more drag for mezzos in opera than you can shake a stick at, but I've been there, done that, and, to quote something a colleague said in another context - I'm done. Meaning I'm done playing the LGBT card. I'm a big buxom girl with a big voice and I ain't playing any more boys. So I laughingly decided, well, for a WASP-y looking girl to put on a black wig and some gypsy duds is drag enough. As I mentioned here, I was once told I was too, well, white to play Carmen and something about that stuck with me.
Well, divine drag it was and it was on Valentine's Day and I got to make peace with himself.
And singing was only half the fun. Even more fun was getting to have a professional makeup job done by the "lady" sharing the photo with me. I know many women get to experience that sort of thing, not just performing artists, but gals who have had formal weddings, even Bat Mitzvahs. But when your mother's a communist, that sort of thing is just not in the culture (hence my love affair with dressing up?)
Well, the following year, even though I had had the perm from Hell and was definitely having a bad hair day, I upped the ante and went for Sappho's "O Ma Lyre Immortelle". This is a somewhat obscure mezzo aria that is quite lovely, and has a scenery chewing coda complete with a high B flat. I don't know why, but I've never had a problem with that particular B flat. Maybe because she's screaming before throwing herself into the ocean.
I sang well. Not my best (the backstage area was full of incense dust) but I hung onto that note for dear life and got thunderous applause. The audience was full of gay men and they love a scenery chewing diva. And I milked it for all it was worth, curtesying in the traditional diva way, what? seven times? Well, I was on a bill with pop singers, folk singers, dancers, and comics. So I had the diva moment all to myself.
But getting back to the "snub". The person hosting this event year after year is my bass friend, the one who sang in the nursing home concert with me. Both years I sang in the event because he invited me (a nice change from constantly feeling I have to do it all myself). Well, this year there was no invite, which I didn't dwell on. I think I had told him I was doing Carmelites and anyhow there might not have been a cabaret this year as the church has a new music director. Well, this morning I searched my email for the bass's address because I wanted to tell him I had a copy of "Ich Habe Genug" for bass solo (long story, not worth detailing here)and did he want it. And when I searched my email for his last name, it came up in the church newsletter, which I still get, saying he was running the cabaret again (it was this past Saturday). Now true, an earlier mentioned asked for volunteers, but no. I am not volunteering for that sort of thing. I expect to be asked. So what was the deal? I didn't mention it in my email to him because I want to see if he mentions it but still I wonder. Did the minister at the church (who deserves Barbara Bush's epithet that rhymes with rich) say "I don't want Babydramatic here again?" I know both times I sang in the event she said nothing other than to ask me how my partner was. (Yes, this is one of the reasons why I have stayed at the Lutheran church. Even though I'm not a parishioner, the pastors always say something nice when I sing.) Well, I can't brood about this. It's what AA calls "the luxury department" meaning it's a luxury to scratch your brain trying to figure out why someone did or didn't do something.
As for the second half of my post title, I had a really good practice. I can hit the dreaded note in "Condotta" if I use the portamento and I even had a good run through my nemesis, aka the ascending phrase in the Amneris/Radames duet, which I haven't looked at in several months. And "Erfreute Zeit", aka Cantata 83, really rocks. I never was that into making a big show out of low notes before but as this piece doesn't have any high notes, I will milk them (and the rapid fire fioratura) for all it's worth.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Turned A Corner?
I'm about to start my workday and thought I would post something first.
I think I am beginning to move in the direction of coming out of the funk I've been in since the Carmelites incident. It wasn't enough to stop me from singing or from singing well, but it was enough to stop me from taking myself seriously as a singer - aka making plans.
That and feeling totally overshadowed by the young woman in the choir with the very high, well trained voice, not to mention a conservatory degree. (On the other hand, mezzos are always overshadowed by high sopranos. It goes with the territory.)
I was starting to feel a little better when I began collecting some Bach pieces to sing with the violinist (who definitely takes me seriously) but then my spirits tanked again when I started working on Azucena and saw that there was a bloody high C actually written in the score!
Well, it turns out that Mignon Dunn, at least, doesn't sing it.
When I bought a score at the Juilliard Store, I also bought a cheap recording with Dunn as Azucena. She goes up to an A and back in that run, that's it.
The Condotta is going well if I don't panic. I've scrapped the idea of singing "Va" on the B flat and instead will try to use my teacher's trusty portamento technique. Singing "bruciaaaaato" on an A is easy. Then the tenor sings an A (OK - I probably won't have a tenor most times I'm singing this but I can hear it in my ear). So when I go for the scream, the trick is to start to sing an A (easy) and then just sort of slide up. There's one other B flat at the very end of the opera, which I won't be singing unless I actually sing the entire role, but that's in the middle of a phrase, which I've never had trouble with.
On another note, I got an email out of the blue from one of the other soloists about singing at a special service at the Lutheran church on May 22 when they will be rededicating their magnificent Tiffany windows (which had been repaired). Several years ago they had a concert series to raise money for this effort, which is how I got to put on my concert version of Samson et Dalila. The woman who emailed me had coordinated the concert series and thought it would be nice for me to sing at the rededication, as I had been a major player in the campaign. I would really love to do that. The choir will be singing the anthem, so I volunteered to sing Mozart's "Laudate Dominum" at Communion, which would fit in with the theme.
I really hope this lights a fire under me. (OOPS! If I'm thinking about Azucena that's not funny.)
Anyhow, I need to get motivated again.
I think I am beginning to move in the direction of coming out of the funk I've been in since the Carmelites incident. It wasn't enough to stop me from singing or from singing well, but it was enough to stop me from taking myself seriously as a singer - aka making plans.
That and feeling totally overshadowed by the young woman in the choir with the very high, well trained voice, not to mention a conservatory degree. (On the other hand, mezzos are always overshadowed by high sopranos. It goes with the territory.)
I was starting to feel a little better when I began collecting some Bach pieces to sing with the violinist (who definitely takes me seriously) but then my spirits tanked again when I started working on Azucena and saw that there was a bloody high C actually written in the score!
Well, it turns out that Mignon Dunn, at least, doesn't sing it.
When I bought a score at the Juilliard Store, I also bought a cheap recording with Dunn as Azucena. She goes up to an A and back in that run, that's it.
The Condotta is going well if I don't panic. I've scrapped the idea of singing "Va" on the B flat and instead will try to use my teacher's trusty portamento technique. Singing "bruciaaaaato" on an A is easy. Then the tenor sings an A (OK - I probably won't have a tenor most times I'm singing this but I can hear it in my ear). So when I go for the scream, the trick is to start to sing an A (easy) and then just sort of slide up. There's one other B flat at the very end of the opera, which I won't be singing unless I actually sing the entire role, but that's in the middle of a phrase, which I've never had trouble with.
On another note, I got an email out of the blue from one of the other soloists about singing at a special service at the Lutheran church on May 22 when they will be rededicating their magnificent Tiffany windows (which had been repaired). Several years ago they had a concert series to raise money for this effort, which is how I got to put on my concert version of Samson et Dalila. The woman who emailed me had coordinated the concert series and thought it would be nice for me to sing at the rededication, as I had been a major player in the campaign. I would really love to do that. The choir will be singing the anthem, so I volunteered to sing Mozart's "Laudate Dominum" at Communion, which would fit in with the theme.
I really hope this lights a fire under me. (OOPS! If I'm thinking about Azucena that's not funny.)
Anyhow, I need to get motivated again.
Friday, February 4, 2011
An Old Gypsy Throws Down the Gauntlet
Ever since two coaches told me I was a dramatic mezzo (my teacher is still on the fence about that - he says I can sing dramatic rep because I have a dramatic temperament but not in a big house over an orchestra), and ever since I turned 60, I've had my eye on Azucena.
If you're an old lady, and there's a great role for an old lady, it's like, hey, you should go for it.
Now that, thanks to the new exercises I've been doing, I really can pluck a B flat out of the air (although to date only if I put a "V" in front of it), I can get through the famous "Condotta ellera in ceppi".
I am now doubly motivated because one of the "real" singers I met at my Tuesday night group coachings said she sometimes needs people to sing through whole operas with her at her private coachings, when she's preparing a role for performance. And right now she's working on Trovatore.
So I borrowed the score from my teacher, blithely thinking the highest note I'd have to sing is a B flat, which I really do have, now.
And then OMGOMG, I got to p. 84 of the Schirmer score and found a run, not optional, but actually written in the bloody score, on the word "spremi" that goes up to a High A, down to a "middle" D and then up to a High C and down again. Twenty-one notes and the bloody C is the seventh!! And the interval is a seventh, as well, not easy to hear or to sing under the best of circumstances, let alone trying to reach the highest note I'd ever been able to phonate anything on since I was 14, before my occasional furtive cigarette had become a two pack a day habit (for the record, I haven't smoked a cigarette since 1982).
So does this mean the old gypsy is out of reach, along with Eboli (who has to sing an exposed C flat) and most of the Donizetti ladies? (I feel comfortable telling people I sing Amneris because I can sing everything except the bloody triumphal scene as written, which my teacher assures me it's acceptable to "cheat" in and sing a lot of it an octave lower because who will hear it?)
Not so fast. First I'm going to get a recording and listen to it. I'll look for one with a mezzo with a lowish voice and see if she sings that ornament. And I'll ask my teacher what he thinks. I actually did sing a High C in public in 2005 when The Mentor Who Shall Not Be Discussed bullied me into singing a duet from La Sonnambula of all things with him. It's not even a real mezzo role although he had told me Bartoli had sung that duet. But that C was part of a roulade, and didn't need to be reached from a note much lower.
It's just so depressing. Why I can't get a handle on those last few notes.
I keep thinking I can be happy as a Bach "alto/sop 2", never having to sing above an F and impressing people with my breath control, vocal agility, and style, but I keep wanting more.
Well, at least I can put "Condotta" in my concert rep. Just for now, it will sound like I'm telling Manrico to leave (LOL!).
If you're an old lady, and there's a great role for an old lady, it's like, hey, you should go for it.
Now that, thanks to the new exercises I've been doing, I really can pluck a B flat out of the air (although to date only if I put a "V" in front of it), I can get through the famous "Condotta ellera in ceppi".
I am now doubly motivated because one of the "real" singers I met at my Tuesday night group coachings said she sometimes needs people to sing through whole operas with her at her private coachings, when she's preparing a role for performance. And right now she's working on Trovatore.
So I borrowed the score from my teacher, blithely thinking the highest note I'd have to sing is a B flat, which I really do have, now.
And then OMGOMG, I got to p. 84 of the Schirmer score and found a run, not optional, but actually written in the bloody score, on the word "spremi" that goes up to a High A, down to a "middle" D and then up to a High C and down again. Twenty-one notes and the bloody C is the seventh!! And the interval is a seventh, as well, not easy to hear or to sing under the best of circumstances, let alone trying to reach the highest note I'd ever been able to phonate anything on since I was 14, before my occasional furtive cigarette had become a two pack a day habit (for the record, I haven't smoked a cigarette since 1982).
So does this mean the old gypsy is out of reach, along with Eboli (who has to sing an exposed C flat) and most of the Donizetti ladies? (I feel comfortable telling people I sing Amneris because I can sing everything except the bloody triumphal scene as written, which my teacher assures me it's acceptable to "cheat" in and sing a lot of it an octave lower because who will hear it?)
Not so fast. First I'm going to get a recording and listen to it. I'll look for one with a mezzo with a lowish voice and see if she sings that ornament. And I'll ask my teacher what he thinks. I actually did sing a High C in public in 2005 when The Mentor Who Shall Not Be Discussed bullied me into singing a duet from La Sonnambula of all things with him. It's not even a real mezzo role although he had told me Bartoli had sung that duet. But that C was part of a roulade, and didn't need to be reached from a note much lower.
It's just so depressing. Why I can't get a handle on those last few notes.
I keep thinking I can be happy as a Bach "alto/sop 2", never having to sing above an F and impressing people with my breath control, vocal agility, and style, but I keep wanting more.
Well, at least I can put "Condotta" in my concert rep. Just for now, it will sound like I'm telling Manrico to leave (LOL!).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)