A Cry from the Heart

I haven't written anything in a long time, which is an indication that things were better, or at least that I was better.  The happier I feel, the less I write.

My partner is still in hospice care.  It has been about 7 months now.  People talk about caregiving being hard, but I am much happier being a part-time caregiver than I was being a full-time copyeditor working at home.  Spending (through my best, white knuckled efforts) 30 hours a week in a small studio apartment staring at a screen, mostly preoccupied with where to put commas and periods, is not a life.  I could never make a full 40 hours (not for lack of work, but for lack of tolerance for that level of mental torment) so I was fortunate to be able to use the modest amount of money in my mother's savings account after she died to supplement my earnings, being frugal but not painfully frugal.

Things brightened a little when I started to collect Social Security.  If I could work 20 hours a week I could manage. Once my partner became more and more impaired, I had a really meaningful part-time job: geriatric care manager.  It involved difficult financial maneuvers, and dealing with recalcitrant bureacracies, but now my life was once again richly peopled in a way that it had not been in years.  There were always people in her house: aides, healthcare providers, social service providers. I got to use my management skills.

A few months ago, when the market was doing well, I bought an annuity.  (I am so happy I did that!). So now I only have to work 10 hours a week.  Over the past few years, I hadn't been able to make myself work 20 anyhow.  It was more important to be with my partner.  Or just go OUT with a friend. But I paid a price.  I have now used up all but $4000 of my mother's savings.  All that's left for emergencies is the rapidly diminishing money in my 401k (I have 60% left because I used 40% to buy that annuity).

My singing has improved.  I seem now to have a solid vocal technique that I can rely on, even if I'm a little tired or haven't eaten enough protein. I sing much much much better at 69 and 3/4 than I did at 54, or even 64 or 67.

Fast forward to coronavirus. My biggest problem for a long time has been inadvertent social isolation.  I work at home (I have noticed that the less I work the happier I am), and when I am not at home in my apartment, I am at home at my partner's apartment.  I spend about 80% of my time shut in.

And now my tiny handful of opportunities to go out are disappearing.  Church is closed. They are live streaming services but that doesn't really interest me.  I go because there are people.  And of course to sing. We will have an online choir get together of some kind (I will have no idea if this means I will be visible, so I had better dress properly. ) My therapist asked if I would be open to having a phone session and I said no, I would not pay for a phone session.  Either I will have a session in person and pay for it, or I will see if I can get some free counseling (in person or over the phone) from the hospice.

Several people who used to visit my partner (her therapist and someone from the LGBT senior center) have been told not to, to talk to her over the phone.  My partner has dementia.  She has a much harder time understanding what's going on over the phone, compared with in person.  And she never learned anything about technology; has never used the Internet and does not have a smart phone. There is no technology in the house other than the aides' smart phones which they were told not to let her touch.

So far my Pilates studio is still open. We spray down the mats. I don't know if my voice teacher will be conducting lessons.  I know his wife has health issues, so he may not want to, but if he wants to I will come.

I ride the subway and the bus.  How else can I visit my partner? Cabs are too expensive and frankly more dangerous if someone with the virus was sitting in the back before me.  I guess if I had to I could walk, at least the weather is nicer.  It is about 3 miles or a little more.

I am much more afraid of sinking deeper into this isolation that I have fought and fought and fought to get out of for a decade than of catching coronavirus.  All I want is not to die before my partner.  If she dies of the respiratory symptoms of coronavirus rather than of something else, and I die shortly thereafter, to whom will it really matter?  I have my affairs in order.

ETA: My Pilates studio is now closed.  My voice teacher is not seeing students. I suppose the one silver lining to all this is that now everyone has to live the way I have lived for a decade. I no longer have to envy other people's diversified lives.  Now we're all in the same boat.  My only fear is that a "shelter in place" order will force me to choose whether to stay with my partner or stay home.  I work at home (there is no way I could set up my home office at her apartment, which not only doesn't have an Internet connection; it doesn't even have decent electrical wiring) and I have my cats.  And I will not let her die in her apartment without me. I will shelter in two places.  If I can't get a "compassionate exemption" I will do it anyhow.  What's the worst that could happen? I will have to pay a fine?

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.

Sad News, and Life Goes On

A few days after I wrote my last post, my friend Abbie died.  I didn't hear about it until the following Friday, from her older daughter.  It is all a shock.  I decided to wait to tell my partner until Sunday (Palm Sunday) when I would be at her house.  She took it pretty well.  And she will forget.  There are days when she doesn't remember that my mother is dead, or that her sister is dead.  It turns out that the cancer Abbie had was in the liver and pancreas, which rapidly becomes fatal.  When she wrote to me she used the word "abdominal" which I took to mean "stomach cancer", which is why I was surprised, because that is a type of cancer that many people survive.

Less important, but to me shocking, is that no one has done anything about submitting an obituary to any news outlet.  I have Googled her every day and there is nothing.  Abbie had written three memoirs, a novel, numerous magazine articles, and had a Wikipedia page (I don't know who managed that).  I also am surprised that she hadn't written her own obituary.  My mother (who was not a "personage" like Abbie but thought she was) had one at the ready at least a decade before she died, so that I could send it to the TIMES.  All I can think of was that Abbie was modest and perhaps her daughters (one lives on the Left Coast, the other deep in Trump Country) aren't interested in their mother's legacy.

The day after I heard that Abbie had died, I sang the Schubert "Ave Maria" at the funeral I mentioned.  It went well.  The Good Friday music is going well.  As an aside, it seems that after three months of struggling with asthma and experimenting with how to treat it, it is gone.  Perhaps it is seasonal.  I was at the point where I was using the inhaler every day. I would say that I had some kind of upper airway distress almost every day between December 27 and April 10.  Fingers crossed.  In any event, that underscores why it is a good idea for me not to plan concerts during that period.  And other than florid pieces like "Rejoice Greatly" I think it would be a good idea for me to stay away from singing anything with exposed high notes in public during that period. 

I have the alto line in two solo quartets from the Missa Solemnis.  I was disappointed not to be given the third (and in some ways the loveliest) solo part, which was given to a woman in the alto section with a pretty, small voice (sort of like a boy soprano).  I suppose the choir director wanted that kind of sound at the very end (she is singing "Agnus Dei" which is the last thing we sing).  I do love my solo quartets, particularly "Christe Eleison".  And of course the new dramatic soprano is singing all the soprano solos.  She sounds fabulous.  Having her there doesn't get under my skin the way having "Little Miss" there did.  Dramatic Sop is enough older (she is 30 or 31 and conducts herself like someone older) that I can sort of look at her as a mentor (if I feel like) not an irksome wunderkind.  On the other hand, of course I am green with envy.  There is nothing that assuages the heartache of wishing I could go back and do it over.  1964 would be a good place to start.  Don't smoke, don't try to be "hip", ignore your mother pushing you to be "with it", and honor your talent.

In other (good) news, I finally heard back from the two places I had contacted about putting on a concert.  One is someplace I have sung before.  So I need to get back in my high dramatic mezzo groove.  My teacher will be singing with me and we will probably sing the Anna Bolena duet.  First up is the little mini concert in May where I will be singing the "Drinking Song" from Lucretia Borgia. 

And on a totally unrelated topic, I may be a media spokesperson for events to do with the 50th anniversary of Stonewall. 

Catching Up

I see that I haven't written anything in about a month, which is because I have been busy with the writing contest.  I have done well so far: just mining incidents in my life and turning them into essays. I love to read novels, but when I write, I seem to find it easier to spin out pithy essays that are a combination of memoir, humor, and social commentary.  Like the OpEd pieces in the TIMES.

I have done well in this competition so far.  It started out with 50 people and now there are 13 people left.  They are going to drop 5 people on Sunday (our assignment was to write 5 pieces and the scores for those pieces will be averaged) so if I stay there will only be 8 left.  The final 4 will get some kind of money prize. My goal was to be in the top 10, which I guess won't be a "thing" because 2 people dropped out of the top 15.

I do have some news about Good Friday.  I am going to sing the alto line in the solo quartet in the "Christe Eleison" from the Beethoven Missa Solemnis and probably also in another piece that we haven't gotten yet.  So I will focus on that.  As for a solo on a festival day, I will probably either sing on Maundy Thursday again or on Trinity Sunday (June 16).  And one Sunday in August when there is an "open sing" because there is no choir and no festival days. For Maundy Thursday I may sing one of the Florence Price spirituals - "Rise Mourner", and for Trinity Sunday I suggested the Mozart "Laudate Dominum", which I haven't sung in years, so it will be interesting to see how it sounds.

I am sounding better again because I have a new strategy for taking care of my respiratory problems.  I went to get my annual physical and my doctor told me to use the asthma inhaler not just when I think I have asthma (I have the "cough variant" kind, not the wheezy life threatening kind) but also if my upper bronchial tubes feel full of mucus that I can't dislodge.  I have found that this really helps.  If my bronchial tubes are opened up, I can get rid of the mucus.  It seems to be more reliable than Mucinex.  I could really hear the difference Wednesday at my lesson and last night at choir rehearsal.

The annoying news, though, is I have not heard back from the two senior facilities that I contacted about performing.  I will have to try calling, as the people did not answer my emails.

Lastly, one source of anxiety is that my partner has a squamous cell carcinoma on her face that needs removing.  She had a biopsy last week.  When the results come back she will need to have it removed.  It is just an outpatient procedure (she had one removed from her chest two years ago) but it takes a whole day, and then she has to come back the next week to have the stitches removed.  And as the only way she can travel is on a gurney in an ambulance, we can be in the doctor's office for over an hour after she's finished, waiting to be picked up.  So I am going to draw a line in the sand and say that we can't do anything during Holy Week.  If they can't do it the week of April 1 (and remove the stitches April 8) it will have to wait until after Easter.  It is something that needs addressing, but it is not life threatening.  It is just very stressful to have to juggle these two things, not to mention that she will be put into a new Medicaid managed care plan as of April 1, so all the players that we have to deal with will be different.  And the last thing I need leading up to Holy Week is a lot of stress and time spent screaming on the phone.

Ending the Year with a Whimper, Unfortunately

Only a few weeks after my disastrous lesson (I did have a decent lesson in between) I had a mishap with a church solo that took me into territory I had not been in since 2014: panicking and/or not having the right "spin" on my voice to sail up to a high note.  Now, granted, this is not a note that I have ever sung in a church solo (more on that later) but it is certainly a note (A natural) that I have been singing well in arias and songs for the past four plus years.

So what went wrong?

I would tend to suspect winter asthma, but then the question is: what do I do?

First, this is not a note I would have chosen to sing. I was looking for an arrangement of the carol "I Wonder as I Wander" and found one that I thought was in the right key (with the top note being an F sharp; in the arranagement in the hymnal, the top note is a D) but after I paid for the arrangement and printed it out, I saw that the third verse went up into a completely different key where the high note was an A!  The only reason I agreed to sing this in public is that when I sang it at home it sounded really good, sounded good at my lesson, and sounded good at my runthrough with the church accompanist on Thursday.

Then I had a huge asthma attack.  I don't have these very often, although I have endless respiratory problems, including massive sinus drainage.  On the rare occasions that I get a cold, interestingly, it's the bottom of my voice that gets knocked out and I can sort of "float" the high notes around it, although my voice sounds smaller.

The type of asthma that I have is called "cough variant asthma".  I don't wheeze and gasp for breath, but my chest feels tight and when I exhale I have a dry cough and a feeling that there is sticky dry mucus in my bronchial tubes.  If it's really bad I use an inhaler, which I did yesterday. 

This morning I felt fine, and warmed up to a high B that was easy and shimmery.  And I could hold it.  Then I went out into the cold. When I got to the church I felt short of breath and my singing was very labored.  I nailed the high note in the runthrough but it felt labored.  Then I thought that if I exhaled a lot (often that helps my singing) I would be ok in the actual service, but I barely made it up to that note, held it about a half a count, and it sounded like a cat yowling when you step on its tail.  So ok, the rest of the piece sounded good, particularly the last verse, and I got a lot of compliments, but I haven't been in this place vocally or mentally in a very long time.

Is it a health issue, period?  I know I felt very tired singing through all the carols for the rest of the service (it was our annual "Lessons and Carols").  My voice didn't feel tired, but my chest felt very heavy.  And I just felt such fatigue. Which followed me home and it's only now, about five hours later, that I feel normal.

I sang on this date last year when it was about four degrees out and didn't have this problem.

I just hope I can blow it off and start over. 

Someone made a video and I told him to cut it off after the second verse (I listened to it and the high note sounded as bad as I had thought) but he said he would also give me a version that had the whole thing, which I really need so I can send it to my teacher.  I know he has had all sorts of health problems of this nature and has sung some really God-awful high notes.  But then he has the choice of switching to bass baritone.  I'm already a mezzo.  I'm not going to switch to contralto!  I don't have a very low voice anyhow.  The best part of my voice is from the middle of the staff up to an F or F sharp at the top. 

Next time I see my primary care physician (I have my annual physical in January) I will ask her what to do; if she has any suggestions. 

A Bummer

Yesterday's lesson did not end well, which is something that has not happened for a long time.

The short version is: after doing my regular exercises and singing through my solo for December 30 (a solo version of the carol "I Wonder as I Wander", which I transposed up so that the top note is an F sharp), I tried to read through "Non piu di Fiori" from La Clemenza di Tito.  I did a great job until I got to the last page at which point I ran out of steam and realized that no way could I get up to that high A and hold it for 5 counts.  Yes, I can now hold a high A for 5 counts (did it in the opening to the Bolena duet that I sang with my teacher in several concerts) but this A comes after two pages of singing without a break.  And no ad libbing.

As I've said, my high register has gotten a lot better, and I've sung a lot of flashy and challenging things, but I realize that these are mostly bel canto arias where the singer can take lots of liberties leading up to difficult passages (or the passages themselves are improvised cadenzas), including dropping out of the vocal line for 2-4 measures before the final climax (which is an old tradition).

Anyhow, my teacher was annoyed with me for "giving up" (I had no trouble singing the phrase with the high note if I just sang the note and the few measures leading up to it) but then we agreed that if I was not "madly in love" with the piece it was not worth putting in all that hard work.  (As a contrast, I was madly in love with "Tanti Affetti" and was able to master all the florid passages with the high B flats, but as I said, most of those were a piacere).

And whether or not I  was madly in love with "Non piu di Fiori", I don't think it would have "mass appeal" for the only non-church audiences I now sing for: in nursing homes.  "Tanti Affetti" did have mass appeal, because like all Rossini, it's bouncy.

So my teacher and I decided that I should go back to "O Mio Fernando", something I have not sung in years, but that I always sang well.  And maybe I'll go back to working on "Bel Raggio", the (putative) soprano aria from Semiramide (I say "putative" because it only goes up to an A and I found it in one of my mezzo aria books.)

The irony at my lesson, come to think of it, was that I had wanted to sing through "Bel Raggio" but my teacher didn't have a copy of it.

I think another problem is that I have been hit hard with my winter respiratory problems.  My bronchial tubes are full of dry mucus.  I cough, I wheeze, I blow my nose constantly.  And this despite using my Neti pot every morning (I won't be scared away by stories of fatal amoebas; I boil the water first.) So at my lesson, even in the beginning, singing was hard work.

And to end it all, it doesn't help that I am seeing posts on Facebook that often involve conversations among some of the people I had unfriended because I was envious of them (or maybe they unfriended me because I said things that were nasty; see previous post) so I am deeply engaged with the green-eyed monster again.

Recently I have disengaged from him/it by staying away from "real" singers, other than my teacher, and what I can watch on Youtube.  I don't need to hear women in their 30s talk about repetoire and all the auditions they are going to and (among the worst of the worst) how much they despise amateurs and pretenders. I am much happier when I confine my performing arts consumption to instrumental music and ballet, with the occasional stop to hear lieder.

So, OK.  now it's time to pull up my socks and look forward to spending January networking to schedule a concert.

Second and Final Rehearsal for My First Recital, and Some Additional Thoughts on What Should be Sung in Church

Today we had a runthrough (start to finish) for the recital.  I am still congested.  So is everyone, so it seems.  My partner had a friendly visitor on Sunday who was congested (not sick, just congested).  A nurse came to see her yesterday and she was coughing and clearing her throat (allergies, not a cold).  Everyone says it's the worst season for allergies on record (I don't know if I have any; I just feel congested, not sneezy).  My teacher said he couldn't hear the congestion.  He was having an allergy attack because the accompanist has two cats.  The high Rossini didn't go as well as last time (I didn't hold the last high B flat) but I got through it and nailed every note cleanly.  And I sang the high and low Rossini arias back to back with no glitches.  I still felt congested singing "Mon Coeur" (the easiest thing on the planet for me to sing) but after my teacher sang his second number and I started the third part of the program with "Amapola", suddenly I felt fine.  Then I felt congested again singing "I Dreamt I Dwelt" but did not have any tension creeping in; mostly because I took the breaks I had planned to. 

My teacher told me not to sing much tomorrow, just to do some exercises, and then to sing my regular routine on Thursday, the day of the recital.  He said I can try a section of the high Rossini cabaletta if I want to, right before the recital.

I'm lucky I work at home, so I can basically just "cocoon" for 48 hours and sit here and edit manuscripts and make some money.  And not have to talk.

After my last post (which got a lot of hits; I also posted it on Facebook and shared it with people from church) I realized that I had some lingering thoughts about music and church.  First and foremost, for good or ill, is self-interest.  I want to sing.  I want to sing music that allows my voice to soar.  A church is a comfortable place to do that, and a church with a smallish choir is a good place to get enough exposure (solos, being the obvious "leader" on a second soprano part) to make me happy.

But secondarily, if I am going even to hear music in a church, I want it to go high. I mean this partly literally but also figuratively.  Of course everyone loves a low bass and choirs need them! But I want to hear something that soars.  (I used that word before; I guess I'm thinking that church should mean the Heavens.)  Classical music soars, African-American spirituals soar, gospel soars.  I could be happy hearing Aretha Franklin in a church (she's a pastor's daughter, by the way).  Bob Dylan never.  (I realized that my gut loathing of him centers around the sound of his voice, not his words.  I recently edited an article that used some of his "poetry" and I tried to look at it divorced from that horrible drug-damaged, raspy voice, and was somewhat able to do so.) 

I don't want to hear gutteral voices, raspy voices, voices that sound like they are in tatters from years of drug abuse, drinking, or smoking and I don't want to sing music in a key so low that it is best sung that way.  (And I'm not talking about a low classical piece like "O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings to Zion!  I'm talking about "Someone to Lean On" in a bass - not an alto - range, which was what was on offer at the UU General Assembly I went to in 2005.)  I know that I ruined my chances of ever being the singer I could have been by smoking, drinking, and abuse of diet pills and speed, and there are days when I would give everything that I have to go back to 1964 and do it over.  I don't want those memories triggered in a church, which for me (and many others) is meant to feel like "sanctuary".

First Rehearsal for the First Recital

Today I had the first rehearsal for my first recital.  There were some pleasant (and one unpleasant) surprises.

The overall takeaway from this is that for whatever reason (my voice is changing, my technique is changing, or I just have lost a lot of chest resonance because I'm now on my fourth week of chest congestion although it is slowly getting better) I get less tired singing high than singing low.

Pleasant surprises: "Tanti Affetti" went really well despite my never having sung it with an accompanist.  Not only the cabaletta, with all the high notes, but also the cavatina, which is difficult rhythmically.  The "Drinking Song" was a piece of cake.  The lighter pieces, including "Amapola", which I had never sung with an accompaniment, went well, except for a wrong note or two in "Waltz Me Around Again Willy".  I figured out where to take two breaks in "I Dreamt I Dwelt" so that I don't get tired at the end.  That was one thing that didn't sound good last year.

Unpleasant surprise: After singing "Tanti Affetti" brilliantly, I could not get through the end of  "Cruda Sorte" which is a fifth lower.  One point of note is that in "Tanti Affetti" I take the standard "bel canto cuts" whereas in "Cruda Sorte" I have not historically taken any cuts because it is in such a low range I figure I don't need breaks.  Well, my accompanist told me to take breaks.  He showed me where I can stay stumm while he plays.  He thinks if I do that I will be fine.

A mixed bag:  I started out with the Handel "Had I Jubal's Lyre" and although I still am able to sing the long runs without taking catch breaths (something I couldn't do last year - thank you to all the work I did on "Rejoice Greatly") I sounded like I could barely make it.  So I asked the accompanist to play faster on the long runs.  He did (and also took the tempo faster in general, which I think helped, and which he liked).

Tomorrow I have my lesson and I will talk to my teacher about the two Rossini pieces.  Then Tuesday we have the final runthrough.

I am still taking Mucinex pills.  It would really be wonderful if I could just be rid of this thing!

A Feast or a Famine

Well!  After totally giving up on the nursing home where my partner had stayed, which I had contacted numerous times over six months, I heard from the recreation director.  He wanted me to sing on May 5.  I told him it was too short notice, but that I could sing on June 2 (another date he offered).  Unfortunately my regular pianist is not available, so I had to find someone else.  I found someone, but he lives in Washington Heights.  I guess a lot of musicians live there now.  I think I should be OK if I go there to rehearse during the day.  The subways are probably full of people during those hours. I have never been up there so I don't know how scary it will look to me.  My voice teacher will have to come to one of the rehearsals (he is singing with me in both recitals, if I forgot to mention) and maybe I can get him to come to both.  I would rather not be wandering around there alone since I'm not familiar with anything up there.

My other bad news is that I was really sick.  The flu?   I was coughing my head off and for two days I had a fever of 100.  I also felt very tired and had no appetite.  I just thought I had a bad cold, so although I canceled my Sunday sing (it was at 9 and I had not been able to sleep because I was coughing so much) I went to stay with my partner.  She wanted me there.  I stayed Sunday and Monday and then went home, and Tuesday morning the aide called me to say that she had called 911 because my partner was having trouble breathing.  She was admitted to the hospital and diagnosed with the flu.  They gave her Tamiflu and iv fluids (they sent her home after 48 hours because by that point she no longer had a fever). I called my doctor, who said that because I had waited four days, Tamiflu would not do any good, and that whatever it was would pass out of my system. It has now been two weeks and I am able to sing and my cough has finally tapered off.  I have not tried to sing "Tanti Affettti" again.  I sang it fabulously at my lesson two weeks ago and at home the next day, and it was the following day that I got sick.  I had a lesson Tuesday and sang a few light pieces, "Had I Jubal's Lyre" (without having to take extra breaths!!) and the "Drinking Song".  My main concern is having enough stamina but the first runthrough rehearsal isn't until May 8, so I am hoping to have my strength back.  I had lost five pounds but am now eating normally, so I will probably put it back, which is OK.  I need that few extra inches around the waist to sing.  And the good news is that if I did have the flu I can't get it again (my partner and I both had gotten flu shots but apparently that hadn't helped) so I am hoping to be healthy for both recitals.

An Honor That I Pray to be Worthy Of

On Wednesday I went to see Farinelli and the King (I have very little discretionary income, and what I have goes to voice lessons and pet care so I rarely go to the theater) which was wonderful (the countertenor sings 6 Handel mezzo arias during the play).  At the intermission I checked my email and I was stunned to hear from the choir director that he wants me to sing the only (soprano) solo in the Good Friday service.  It is a "Recordare" from one of the Schumann Requiems.  It is actually in a perfect range for me, mostly in the middle, with one G in it.  The whole piece is two pages.  To date, I have only sung the alto line in a few solo quartets in the various Good Friday services.  (I am still singing with the chorus altos this time.) 

I consider this a huge honor particularly as there is a real dramatic soprano singing with the choir.  When went to rehearse the solo, the choir director told me that he thought it would suit me because he wanted a big expressive dramatic sound!

The only real challenge I will have (the piece is not difficult) is singing it after singing the very low alto part in the "Agnus Dei".  I will ask my teacher what to do.

And of course I now have another challenge.  Yesterday (the day of the rehearsal) I woke up with a whopping sinus "thing" that causes mucus to sit on my vocal cords and makes me cough.  When I woke up yesterday I couldn't  phonate at all.  Fortunately, I remember that my teacher has always told me that if you don't have laryngitis, and whatever is affecting your cords is caused by mucus, if you drink hot beverages, use an expectorant, and do a little light singing, your voice will come back.  In fact he said singing often clear the mucus off.  So that is what happened yesterday.  Same thing this morning although I don't plan to sing at all today.  I will see if I can sing a little tomorrow night (I spend Friday night and Saturday taking care of my partner at her house).  The choir is singing something simple Sunday morning at 9.  Worst case scenario I will stay home.  The good news is that these things usually clear out after a week so I should be fine for our next rehearsal on Thursday night. 

I absolutely don't think I have anything serious because I don't feel sick.  It's very localized.  It may be contagious, though, because it seems to be a bit more heavy duty than my regular sinus problems.  So Neti pot, Vicks, and liquid Mucinex.  And not too much talking.

I have worked over ten years for something like this (I will be singing this with an orchestra) so I will pray to be worthy.

Recital Recap

First, I suppose I should apologize for not having something to say about the horrendous events yesterday in Las Vegas.  I guess I should say here that everyone else has no doubt said whatever there is to be said.  I don't generally talk about mass tragedies, the way some people don't talk about politics  I usually feel that I don't have anything meaningful to add. 

As for my recital, overall I felt that t went well, although I won't have a definite sense of it until I see the videos.  The woman who is making my partner's legacy videos came and video'd the whole recital without charging me, which was above and beyond.  She is going to use some of the songs I dedicated to my partner as part of the legacy videos which will be on the nonprofit's web site.

For some inexplicable reason, I started getting a migraine when I got to the venue, which is very unusual.  Since going through menopause 17 years ago I hardly ever get migraines any more unless I go too long without eating or drinking coffee, which was not the case.  My sleeping habits have become erratic, maybe that is it.  I always get enough sleep, but it is often in two segments (Friday night I fell asleep at 10:30, woke up at 3:30, went back to sleep at 5:30 and woke up at 8:30) or I will go to sleep and wake up very early (Saturday night before the recital I fell asleep at 9:30 and woke up the next morning at 5:30.) Which is why, now that I only sing things that I plan, I never book a concert in the evening.

There were a few rough spots, which I noticed, but I doubt most other people did.  My voice teacher may mention them at my next lesson.  Although I could tell that he was mostly pleased.

Two friends who live in Florida came because they happened to be in New York for a few weeks.  They used to live here and we used to go to the opera with them.  At that time I wasn't singing.  I was a little hurt because one of the women said, first, "Wow! You really are a real opera singer" but then added "even if you're no longer at your peak".  This hurt me, on the other hand, it is so off base, that how could I be hurt by it? I know that whatever imperfections I still have, I sing so much better than I used to.

One thing that hurts (and in a way this goes back to my musings on amateur versus professional singers) is that no matter how hard I work, I will never attain the "polish" of someone who went through a Masters of Music program at a conservatory (although I know that I have a better natural instrument than some; some graduates just market their small, musicianly voices to be paid choristers in churches or with symphonies). The problem is that as a woman first in her 50s, then in her 60s, with a variety of responsibilities, there simply was no way that I could become proficient in several languages, and get the kind of currying and combing that people get if they sing in performance classes and in front of juries all the time, while also working on vocal technique.  Practicing an hour a day, learning repertoire (including choir music), and at least understanding what I was singing, has been about all I have been able to manage.  The most I can afford financially is two voice lessons a month (which is fine; when I started I had enough basic technique to be able to work on my own and progress from lesson to lesson) and two sessions with an accompanist if I am going to be performing.  I have improved my musicianship by singing with the choir, and if I haven't taught myself to sightread, I know it is out of laziness and lack of interest.  But my lack of "polish" is something I am keenly aware of.  One way, at least, that I am making progress with this is by asking someone to make a video every time I sing a church solo.  That is not a big deal; I just had to bite the bullet and ask.  So I can see myself and see what needs fixing.

In other news, it turns out I will not be singing at the funeral.  Apparently the woman who died left instructions for what she wanted (why not??) and a soloist singing the piece I had chosen was not a "fit".  (Apparently neither was a choir anthem.)  So it will be interesting to see what the funeral is like.  I plan to go in any event, to pay my respects.

In other parts of my life, I am working on a memoir, about religion, British literature, and church music.  A woman I know who is a retired literature professor said she would read the chapter I wrote about reading Dickens.

And (in the not so good news) I now have to get my partner recertified for Medicaid.  I'm terrified that if the paperwork isn't in order she'll be struck off.  I just have to have faith, I guess, that all the knowledgeable people I have working with me will see that everything is as it should be.

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.

Old Foes Become New Friends

Last night at choir practice we got Sunday's anthem, a piece by Alice Parker called "Hark I Hear the Harps Eternal".  It has three women's parts.  We have sung this piece at least twice.  The first time I sang the top part (which is the only soprano part) which sits at the top of the staff and goes up to a high A.  That was about 7 years ago when I still had to muster all my forces, gird my loins, and scream up there.  My doing that elicited a very negative response from the choir director in the form of a personal email.  The second time we sang it I sang the top alto part, which is a decent part - it goes up to an F.  When I came in last night I decided to beat him to the punch so I said, "you want the second sopranos to sing the top alto part, right" (just as a point of information, only one of the now five second sopranos, other than  Yours Truly, can sing a G let alone an A) and he said "well, we'll have to wait to see if the high sopranos [Little Miss and another woman that age who has come to New York to act] show up, so just sing it as written for now".  So I said "OK, I will give it a try".  I figured, ok, I'm following instructions.  I will sing the note with my real voice, and if he says no I can sing an F in its place, which would fit in the melody, but still stay on the top part otherwise.

Well, it was not hard at all.  It stayed "in line" and all I had to do was think "dark and deep", keep my larynx down, but my mouth not too wide open.  So that's that.  If on Sunday one of the high sopranos shows up and he doesn't want me to sing that note, I made my point.  Yes I can sing up there.  So all I have to do is keep talking to a minimum today and tomorrow because that's always the killer for me.

An in perfect synchronicity, this picture, with quote, showed up on Facebook.

In other news, at my last lesson I had some trouble with the high C sharp (I had had an allergy attack the night before and also my humidifier conked out and I hadn't bought a new one yet) so my teacher said to give it a rest.  Just to vocalize up to a B.  He also said to give the "Seguidilla" a rest and work on other scenes in the opera, which I need to do because he has added some recitative.

Juliet, Cio-CIo San, and the Love that Dare Not Speak Its Name

I haven't written anything here for a long time, because I haven't been singing. Tuesday week I lost my voice to laryngitis, which, I was told by my ENT, whom I saw a few days later, was caused by a virus.  My vocal cords were in perfect shape apparently.  So I spent a week coughing and spitting and blowing my nose.  I sang for the first time this past Wednesday (just a few exercises; I didn't go to choir practice) and had a lesson yesterday.  The concert is now only two weeks away. My voice is mostly back (except that I am still coughing and blowing my nose, somewhat) but I need to get my stamina back.  Wish me luck please!!

As for the title of this post, as I have not been singing, I have been revisiting my other persona, the writer.  Monday I went to look at the performance space, and one of my colleagues from the choir (who lives in the building where the performance space is) agreed to swap plays to read.  I gave her Duet, the light and frothy fictionalized version of my experiences with the Mentor, including his $64,000 question, asked with a smirk, after I translated Dalila's aria "My heart opens at your voice like a flower" "So what kind of a flower do you think she's talking about?"  It will be interesting to see what she makes of it.  Maybe she will have an idea for someplace that wants to produce it.  Rather ironically, her play was produced in a church where a friend of the Mentor is the music director.  Wouldn't it be rich if it were produced there??

Her play was about a Lesbian minister.  I don't want to say more than that because there are things that are confidential.  In any event, if nothing else, it brought back lots of memories.  Back in my activist days, this was exactly the sort of bandwagon I would have loved to jump on with a group of women.  I was not raised to be religious, and would not have chosen this as my battleground, but anything high profile where there might be reporters was right up my alley.  And in fact we had already been there before.  This play was set in the 90s but in the 70s there had already been an ordination of a Lesbian minister (I don't remember with what outcome) and a song was dedicated to the whole thing called "You can't be in the closet with God".  It has so fallen off the map that it took me a while to find it online, but I did, and I will give a copy of it to my friend.

Now here's where things get weird.  Am I the only person who thinks half the fun of being gay was being an outsider?  I don't mean an outsider who will get run out of town on a rail or have my house burned down, but the kind of outsider who is, well, not welcome at family or other "respectable" gatherings.  If I had yearned to be part of that world (something I am ambivalent about) I would have married a rich man who would have bought me a brownstone to live in and let me pursue a career in the arts for no money in exchange for supervising the housekeeper and entertaining his business associates.  The whole gestalt of being with a woman was that I chose love and romance over respectability and practicality. (I could easily see myself marrying a man I was not in love with for practical reasons, but a woman never!)  We didn't want to be invited to the family Thanksgiving.  It was much more fun to make our own community get togethers.  Like being part of a sect or a cult (which had its downside, I later discovered) or a family of outlaws.

I grew up with Romeo and Juliet, Madama Butterfly and La Traviata.  Even though I was never a lyric soprano, there was a period when I played my recording of Butterfly over and over again because almost every word she sings could have been sung by a Lesbian in love.  All of it.  Being rejected by her family, being told her marriage is not "real".  Of course it simplifies things that she kills herself because then she doesn't have to wonder what to do later.

But the point I'm making is that the more "society" didn't want us, the closer we became, either as individual couples or as a community.  Being outsiders didn't make it harder to bond as couples, it made it easier because we could set our own terms.  (Actually many straight feminists envied us our freedom and open ended approach to relationships and were looking to us for leadership on how to create alternatives to marriage.  How ironic!) Now there's nothing. You have women pairing off, getting a marriage license, making nuclear families. The whole thing leaves me totally cold.

But as I said in an earlier post, maybe it's just as well.  Thirty-five years ago I gave up singing for my community and it norms.  Now I can just sing.

Superachievers and Serotonin

This post really isn't about singing.  It's about me, my partner, our relationship, and the choices I made long ago that seem so at odds with the priorities of the younger generation (I mean the "older" younger generation; women who are now between the ages of 35 and 45).

I addressed some of it here.

This weekend, I had a mini-showdown with my partner.  I was very proud of myself because I didn't lose my temper, which was one of my New Year's resolutions.  I did, however, say something that she found very hurtful.  I don't regret it, because I didn't say it to be hurtful; I said it because it is true and needed to be said.

Several months ago, I finally was able to unravel an emotional mystery that had had me stumped for almost four decades; namely, how could my partner and I love each other so much and yet have so many ugly screaming fights?  What I realized, was that although we had been many things to each other -  lovers, sweethearts, cuddles, mutual children, mutual mommies, and, more recently, caregiver and patient - I don't think that we had ever been friends.

Over the weekend, for the umpteenth time, she tried to shut me up when I was talking about how I was feeling.  Not about anything "loaded" that had to do with "us", just something I was feeling, which I felt entitled to mention as she had just mentioned a situation in which she had had feelings that I perceived to be similar.

So I said to her, more or less what I have written here.  That although I loved her, we were not friends.  I also said that everything that was wrong with our relationship, even though we have adored each other in one sense or another for almost 40 years, is that our relationship started out as a romance, not a friendship, so that secure base was never there.  Yes, of course we have interests in common, not just an aesthetic attraction to each other (which runs much deeper than just a sexual attraction), but we can't seem to talk, about anything in a comfortable relaxed way.  Or when we do, it's a pleasant surprise.  Then she got into a "state" about how I had hurt her feelings, so I said "I am proud of myself that I didn't lose my temper.  But what I said is true.  And in fact, another problem with our relationship  is that there are just too many emotions in it, good and bad."

Although it seems a stretch, there is a throughline between that interchange, that knowledge, and the flawed basis for our relationship (not that it is necessarily a more flawed relationship that many others, just that it never had a secure base) and all of my envy of this bevy of superachievers, mostly women born after 1970, that I feel subsumed by and diminished by.

When I was growing up, the most important thing for a girl (or young woman) to have was a boyfriend/lover/fiance, or whatever.  In my case, because I have always been a girly girl who nonethless seemed to prefer women, it was a butch-beau.  Part and parcel of that was not just sex and lust (acted out or not), but sturm and drang.  I would say that between the ages of 14 and 30, whether I was drunk or sober, "virgin" or sexually active, probably 75% of my emotional energy went into the vagaries of whatever relationship I was involved in.  And that was true of most of my female friends as well, Lesbian or straight.  School was something to be suffered through, for the most part.  Most of us planned to go to college, but in New York, with a certain GPA and SAT score, you could go to one of the City Colleges, no questions asked.  There was not this mad scramble to add things (school orchestra or newspaper, volunteer work, or advanced placement immersion classes) to a college admissions resume,  and really no one thought about "careers".  Being a teacher was about it.  Or if not a teacher, some kind of secretary or administrative assistant in an "interesting" industry until, well, what, we got married?  Even if we didn't plan to get married, we didn't plan all that much else, really.

This new breed of women are completely different.  First of all, they were the first generation to transition from adolescence to adulthood with certain feminist assumptions in place.  They wanted to be doctors, lawyers, MBAs.  They probably had as much sex (or as little) as the women of my generation but the vocabulary of limerence played very little role in their interactions, thoughts, or fantasies.  Hence their emotions were not constantly engaged.  And when they got older, situated in these careers (or ones they designed themselves, which required several additional decades of formal or informal schooling - on whose money?) it was much of the same.  They married a "partner" not a "lover" and certainly not anyone who kept them on the kind of emotional roller coaster that, for women of my generation, was in some ways the whole point of relationships to begin with.

In Sundays' TIMES, there was this article. One thing I will say about myself, is that I would prefer to withstand a fair amount of physical and mental discomfort rather than "take something".  (I am not talking about symptoms that might be life threatening - for example I take blood pressure medicine.)  And I am very very grateful that my therapist has never offered me any psychotropic medication, even when I am down in the dumps or distraught.  (She - and an online quiz - have assured me that I am not depressed in the clinical sense.)

But after reading the article, I started wondering: are all these superachievers medicated to stay "perky", energetic, ambitious, and, well, "strictly business, nothing personal", not just in how they handle high power careers, but how this carries over into the kinds of relationships they choose or don't choose?  It's the right demographic. Women who are approaching or in prime middle age. The article said that one out of four women in this age group are taking something. (Actually it included the age group that is slightly older as well, but I see these behaviors more in women born after 1970).

I mean this is not a new concern. this seems to have been around for quite some time.

Hmmm....

Next Year in May

A few weeks ago, I titled a blog post Next Year in _______. I took the space to refer to a place. I do have a venue now, but am not going to post it here (for those of you who are also my Facebook friends, it will appear there as the time approaches).  I also have a date.  An exact date because that venue only hosts concerts on Thursday nights, and only one was available in April or May of 2015, which is when I want to have the concert (after the cold weather is over, after Easter, and before the summer).  Night is not ideal for me as I tend to wind down and run out of steam at night.  Well, 7 to 8 is manageable (they told me the concert can't be more than an hour, which is odd, as the concert operas my teacher has been in are longer than that).  I can eat a big high protein supper of some kind at 5 and bring a protein bar.  Despite my best efforts, and even though I don't have to set the alarm on weekdays any more, I go to sleep between 11:30 and 12:30 and wake up between 7:30 and 8:30 am like clockwork.  And I never feel like napping.  And unlike people who say they can't sing on a full stomach, I, as someone with low blood sugar, can't sing on an empty one.  I am at my most energetic an hour or so after a high protein meal.  Once it's been longer than three hours since my last meal I start to "wilt".

I don't know yet if I will sing the Giovanna Seymour excerpts.  I can certainly do the duet with Enrico if my teacher wants to sing it with me.  He wants me to do the aria (cavatina and cabaletta with a duet section with Enrico in the middle) also.  It's not familiar to most people so I don't think anyone will care if I take the two ending cadenzas down to a G sharp instead of up to a B natural.  Well, there is certainly time.  I would feel more comfortable with the "Judgment Scene" from Aida and the duet from Samson et Dalila, or the one from Gioconda, but it's early days yet.

It's funny.  My partner has been in the middle of a health crisis and I had thought I might lose her, so I was really not thinking much about concert plans; just barely doing enough practicing to sound good with the choir and make sure I am spot on with the solo I am singing on the 30th.  I had written to the woman at the residence about the concert several weeks ago and had just about given up hearing back, so this was a nice surprise.

Anyhow, my partner is out of danger for now, so it really is just one day at a time.  I had a fabulous voice lesson about 10 days ago, and need to get back in that groove.

A Rocky Road

It's so ironic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Optimistic, but Fighting a Bug

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

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

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

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

Carmen Update and

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Long-Overdue Update on Health, Carmen, and the Plight of Mezzi

I haven't written anything here for a long time, probably because I have been reasonably happy and busy.

The biggest change that has happened is that last week I went to see an ENT because I was having to constantly clear my throat (a separate issue from the heavy sinus drainage, which I can keep mostly under control with the Neti Pot).  I had no idea what she would find, but what she did find was, first (the good news) a pair of pristine looking vocal cords and second (the bad news) that I have laryngoesophageal reflux (who knew?) which means I have to follow certain dietary restrictions.  The main one is that she wants me to drink 8 glasses of water a day (I've heard this mentioned and always thought it was a myth, that this is a healthy thing to do) and to stop all fruit juices and acidic fruit (meaning no fruit other than melons or pears, or bananas, which I don't think of as "fruit" because they're not juicy).  Also to cut back on tomatoes, salad dressings, and various spices.  She also told me to cut back on coffee but I told her this was no deal.  For me coffee is a rich dessert (I drink flavored coffee with vanilla soy milk), an antidepressant, and an ADD medicine all rolled into one, so I ain't giving it up.

Well, to my pleasant surprise, I feel a lot better and am not clearing my throat all the time.  I have less sinus drainage also.  And if I drink water even when I'm not thirsty (something I had no idea I was supposed to do) I don't get that intense dry throat that made me crave juice (mostly mango nectar) to begin with.  I haven't really noticed any difference in my singing (my easy vocalizing still stops squarely on a B and my ability to pluck a note out of the air stops squarely on an A) but probably if I had kept up that constant throat clearing it would have had an adverse effect.

Now as for Carmen, things are moving ahead and going well.  The tenor is on board to sing in the big concert as well as at the musicale.  I have one candidate for a reader.  And we will probably have a Micaela.  And I am sooo enjoying working on this!  And my partner is being (amazingly) supportive.

Last but not least, my struggle for visibility at the church still continues (I know Lent is a time to look at one's character flaws, but a pushy soloist I am and I pushy soloist I will stay).  After this morning yet again having to sing under a high soprano descant sung by a single soloist (referred to jokingly as an "Olympic Event") I was really fuming.  If the communal voice is more important than the solo voice this should not be taken to mean, to paraphrase George Orwell, everyone is equal but high sopranos are more equal than others.

Anyhow, I was ticked off enough that I thought I would speak to the choir director again (rather than waiting until Wednesday) about singing "O Rest in the Lord" or "Woe Unto Them" and he said he would look into it.  He thinks there might be a spot on Maundy Thursday even though that is being led by the director of the other choir.

What I can't figure out (more navel gazing) is whether what bothers me is that this young soprano sings better than I do (she does; however I am still one of the top five singers in this choir of about 20 and  the star turns should be more equally spread around) or whether what bothers me is all the attention she gets.  Certainly it bothers me that someone her age sings better than I do.  I have been studying, even this time around, longer than she has and people have told me the fact that I smoked over 30 years ago should not be a handicap.

On the other hand, all this has strengthened my resolve that other than the precious life of my loved one, singing is the most important thing in the entire world to me and that I will do it until I drop dead, if it means never again eating a mango; if it means waking up at 6 am when we've turned the clock ahead so that I can warm up; and if it means putting as much money, time, and ingenuity into a vanity concert as professionals put into anything they do.