Second Concert

Yesterday's concert went very well.  I got all the videos and am mostly happy with how I sounded (of course there are a few things that could have sounded better).  The only really gauche thing was that I had to stop to drink water (twice!) during the Bolena duet because my throat got dry and there were still plenty of high notes ahead.  Lately there have been various discussions (online) about the fact that it's a myth that people always need to have water but I know that when I'm singing my throat gets so dry that I just wouldn't make it up to some of those notes without staying hydrated.  So what do the big stars do when they're onstage?  All I can think of is that big opera houses and concert halls have a humidfying system of some kind, which regular venues don't.  And churches are dusty.  And for me maybe it's just my chronic upper respiratory issues.

But I shouldn't dwell on negative things; I am happy with how most of it sounded and I looked lovely in my new dress.  It was a splurge (well, for me; it cost $75 and usually I shop at thrift shops for concert wear) but it was worth it and my last semi-formal concert dress is 10 years old.

I really like the site I ordered it from.  It's called "Rose Elegant" (I can't seem to find a site to link to) and everything comes from (as distinct from having been made in) China so the sizes are odd.  A size 12 maps to XXL, but this fit me perfectly.  Since I have gotten shorter and much bigger around the waist (I attribute some of that to the muscle and fat "donut" that singers are supposed to have around the waist and back) I have stopped buying anything fitted around the waist.  I wouldn't wear a tent dress but there are a lot of dresses like this one that are shapely, but not tight at the waist.

Unfortunately I can't seem to be able to download the videos individually (when I do that there is sound but no picture) but I can see them (and I guess show them to people) by posting a link to the original drop box file.  Maybe the videographer can fix the problem.  I hate to bother her because she never charges me anything; apparently making these videos is part of her volunteer work creating "lasting impressions" for seniors. 

So now I can retire the Bolena for a while and start planning 2020 concerts.  At least three of the places want us back; I just have to pin them down about dates and times.  I think next time we may revisit the "Judgment Scene" from Aida and the "Vengeance Duet" from Samson et Dalila.

I am going to be 70 next year but have no sense of slowing down.  I sing a lot better than when I started at 54; even than I did a few years ago.

To end on a humorous and flattering note.  There is a sustained high A at the beginning of the Bolena duet.  It ends the opening recitative, and after I sang it, the audience here broke into applause.  I have never had that happen.

Thoughts on Making Lemonade

I had probably one of the worst birthdays ever, particularly as this was supposed to be a big one, and it's one for which other people have had parties (thrown for them by others or not), been given expensive presents, or taken the "trip of a lifetime".

I basically got nothing.  Four cards, two ecards, probably at least 25 Facebook messages, and an outing to the Morgan Library that was more about caregiving than about enjoying myself (although I suppose I did some of that).  (They were having an exhibit of manuscript and drawings from Alice in Wonderland, one of my favorite childhood books, and what better way to spend my first official day as a senior citizen than by revisiting something from my childhood?)

But the worst was yet to come. As sort of an afterthought, my partner said she would like to take me to lunch on Saturday (after my birthday).  In decades past, it had been possible to get together at least 10 people for such a lunch, both on a personal level, and then again (with different people) at the office.  Since then, two of my close friends have died, as has my mother, three or four have moved permanently, and the rest were traveling and really couldn't have given a flying fig if it was my birthday or not and didn't even bother to send me a card or even an email.

Because I knew I wasn't going to get any presents, I bought myself a summer dress at Land's End (it had been extremely hot and I needed another sleeveless dress).  Here is what it looked like.

Considering the things women wear these days, I would hardly call it shockingly risque, but apparently the fact that it showed some cleavage (I am busty, I have cleavage, I look good in this style of dress, and it was hot out) caused my partner to have a nasty meltdown over my "displaying myself".  Things got so ugly that I did not sleep all night last Friday and spent three hours crying on Saturday.  I said I did not want to go to lunch.  I cried not over being "slut-shamed" (really who cares what is showing when you're 65 anyhow) but because it hadn't seemed possible for anyone to set aside any time to see that ****I**** had a special day. Just for me.  Just for me to wear and do what I felt like without my having to either take care of them or apologize for entangling with their pathologies.

The upshot of it all was that my partner apologized, yes we did have lunch, I put a napkin over my chest while we were eating, and I made a "deal" with her that I would not wear that dress again if she bought me something else (I had found a cotton dress in a catalog for $40 that had a high neck).  I wasn't able to save the image, but it is a lightweight cotton dress that is not too long (no mean feat as I'm now between 5'2 and 5'3 which is apparently off the charts short these days) and that I can hand wash.  It arrived today and looks good.  I really really love the other dress though and by gum I will wear it when she is not around.

On a more positive note.

When I mentioned my despair to a friend of mine (she lives in another state and has health problems, not to mention very little money, so she is not someone from whom I expected fireworks on my birthday although it is of note that she is one person who did take the time to send me a real card) she said that if what I wanted more than anything was a special birthday, I should plan a concert next year on or near my birthday.  Nothing makes me feel more special than singing, right?  And I can do my second favorite thing in the whole world: get dressed up!!

So now I am really excited about this.  I am keeping an "idea book" with notes on repertoire.  It will be purely upbeat.  No heavy opera (except perhaps Dalila's aria, which to me is like a second skin and is in a range as comfortable as most musical theater pieces).  I don't want to post more about it now, because I don't want to spoil it (of course once I have the plan completed all details will be revealed.)

I am still going to try to do Carmen at the LGBT senior center, though.  That can be in April (I think Easter will be early in 2016) and my birthday is at the end of July.

And you will never guess what the best (belated) birthday present that I got today was!!

At my voice lesson I. SANG. A. HIGH. C. SHARP!!!  That is the highest note I have ever sung since I was 13, before I started smoking.  My teacher was absolutely speechless.  Here I am at the age when singers are losing range and I am gaining it!!  Maybe I will turn out to be the Benjamin Button of singers?

What I Yearn for and How to Get It

I rarely post twice in one day, but I came across this post on my reading list and had to share it, because it is this that I feel so desperately deprived of, as a mature, now officially "physically challenged" church and concert soloist.

I yearn to dress up, get into mischief, flirt, play with props.  Especially in the realm of make believe on someone else's dime.

Sure, I could try to stage "fancy dress" parties (as the British call them) but it would probably cost a fortune (I can hardly see doing this in my studio apartment!) and the little bit of mischief I get into has to be very discreet.

If I can barely get on and off a bus and am so terrified of slipping on the sidewalk that I use a cane not only if it's snowing but even if it's just raining (and this has nothing to do with my recent back injury), I can hardly run all over a stage engaging in high jinks.

OK, so what can I do?

Lean back against the piano singing "Moonfall".  My SO won't be at the concert so I can wear something low cut.

Slither among the guests singing the "Habanera" and hand out flowers.  The producer is going to give me some beautiful silk roses so I won't need to buy any.  And even I can walk indoors in heels, and if I think the floor is slippery, I can wear ballet flats.

Singing Better - But I Wanna Play Dress Up!

Today at my voice lesson I went through "Acerba Volutta" and Sappho's "O Ma Lyre". My teacher said they sound much better than several years ago. In fact he said that "Acerba Volutta" sounds the way that type of music - Italian verismo - is supposed to sound. My upper register seems to be much freer (although it could be freer still) but most importantly, I have a whole voice that sounds like a real Italian mezzo. My teacher says, yes, this is the repertoire I should be singing.

So why do the "envies" constantly creep up on me?

There is something that I want. A lot of it has to do with singing - singing is the core of it, but it's more.

When I read Facebook and other postings from "real" singers, what is it they are doing that I am so envious of? Well - dressing up for one.

I grew up in an environment that disapproved of dressing up. My mother used to quote Thoreau - "Distrust any endeavor that requires new clothes". O how different from my ultra-feminine friends with their ultra-feminine mothers who wanted to take them shopping and admire them in this, that, or the other. In fact, if you look at the photo that my mother wanted for her obituary

you will see that she has, in essence, no hair (it is scraped back in a knot), no cosmetics, and a face that is, at least to me, rather genderless.

When she died and I went through her things, I could see that she had not bought any new clothes (except the odd turtleneck and some sneakers) in probably three decades, and I have inherited no jewelry other than some beads and some politically-correct ethnic horrors that I gave away.

When I was a child and an adolescent I was always jonesing to dress up which she had no understanding of.

As an adult, when I ended up with a partner who was female, I found that I was marrying an ideology, not just a person, and was surrounded by hordes of women who chanted disapproval of me as I wistfully played with my cosmetics (they were all I had left to adorn myself with - I owned no skirts, dresses,or women's shoes).

Decades later, I have a closet full of gowns and long skirts (and a few other oddities, like a fringed black lycra skirt and another tight black skirt with suggestive zippers that can be zipped - or not) but noplace to wear them.

In any event, these "real" singers spend their days purchasing gowns for concerts (even if all they're singing is an alto part in an oratorio with minimal exposure) and being stuffed into period costumes with cleavage (even the "frump" roles get to show cleavage, so it seems). Then they post the photos on Facebook and everyone oohs and ahs.

When I left my last full time job I got a "severance package" which included, in addition to the crown jewel of health insurance for life until Medicare, a year of career counseling. The outfit I went to was quite good and they actually specialized in finding second careers for people over 50. So I thought I could at least segue into a glamorous career, if not singing, maybe selling toothpaste (I am being partly facetious here) in a different city every month (or at least in a different office every month) with a drop dead wardrobe as a work requirement. On that score, though, I think this career counseling outfit overestimated its power. What I ended up with was tools to find work I could do at home in my pajamas, which has left me more time for singing, more sleep, the freedom to fulfill my eldercare responsibilities without having to beg and beseech time off like a child asking "Mommy may I?" but it hardly fulfills my need to be glamorous. And needless to say, on a small budget, even if I have the clothes, I am not about to go anywhere where I could wear them, as such places are expensive to frequent and what excuse would I have to be doing so in any event?

Now make no mistake. Even if I'm going grocery shopping I have on stage makeup and when my big hair starts to wilt (which it certainly has by now) I call in my Irish hairdresser to perm it in smelly rollers for two hours (she is coming Thursday). And usually if I go into a store that sells cosmetics someone asks me if I'm an actress, because of course I wouldn't be caught dead in anything that looks "natural" even if it's only to wear to the grocery store.