I now have two concerts planned for the Fall. The first is in late October and will be at the nursing home with the large theater, where I have already sung twice. So far this has been my favorite place to sing because it is large enough to invite guests and we usually get a large audience.
The second is in early November at a facility on the Upper East Side, near Sotheby's, where I have never sung. It apparently only has an upright piano but I was told that there would be room to invite guests. I will go take a look at the room some time in October.
What will be on the program is not definite yet. My teacher had some minor surgery so I have not wanted to bother him about the dates. I made the November date definite because as I have never sung there, I can do my solo recital, if necessary with piano solos in between the sets.
If my teacher is available and in good health, we will be singing two operatic duets, the one from Anna Bolena and the one from Samson et Dalila, and then we will each sing an aria and about three lighter pieces (mine would be "Vanilla Ice Cream", "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", and "Home Sweet Home"). If he is not available (or only feels up for singing a few musical theater songs) I will do the solo recital but will swap out "Tanti Affetti" for "Bel Raggio Lusinghier" from Semiramide (it's going well so far) and swap out "Jubal's Lyre", which I've been struggling with, for Prince Orlofsky's welcome aria which is the perfect thing to start with and would make a nice pair with the "Drinking Song".
As for plans for the future, I finally think that I feel things falling into place in a way that makes me feel that my life has meaning and holds together. I still hate what I do for a living, but it is the most convenient way for me to make an adequate amount of money working the hours I want or need to work any given week. At the age of 68 I have accepted that I will never be willing (yes, I have to use that word) to put in the superhuman amount of work (and expense) necessary to train for a career that I would love. I hate academics, for one thing. This took me over 60 years to realize, but yes. I am smart, have a high IQ, have always done well on standardized tests (the kind that require that you think fast on your feet), and love to read fiction; I'm well versed in current events and am "cultured" (and not just in my own area of classical music), but I simply don't have the mental fortitude to plow through "academic blather". I always wondered if I had ADHD, which I very well might. Coffee calms me down, for example. In any event, I want to spend my golden years out and about. I spend enough time cooped up with articles to edit and that's enough.
Harder and sadder than giving up the idea of a "career", is realizing that I will never be able to sing leading roles with any of the "amateur" opera groups around here, not even the most humble (the one where people sing through an opera from books in someone' living room). Producing something similar involves too much administrative work (and rejection by people who get better offers and do a bunk, not to mention that they never invite me to do anything), so I have settled for solo recitals in nursing homes. I have already written at length about that, and I have made a decision to love it, not see it as "second best". I love working with the elderly (I think I'm better at that than working with children although I want to continue what I'm doing with children to broaden my life; I don't have any children who might have children or any siblings who might have children and grandchildren.)
And I have decided that when my Angel gets her wings, if I am still mobile and of sound mind, I would like to work with seniors with dementia. There are all sorts of things I can do with them, including broadening out from doing concerts (which I will still be doing if I am in good voice and good health) to singing their favorite songs with and for them at their bedsides. This is a long-term plan, and not one I want to delve too deeply into, because right now I have my Angel and can do these things with her, but it is a assurance to me that life will go on. I don't think I would need academic credentials to do this as a volunteer; I'm sure my life experience with my partner and my musical background would be enough.
So this will be a life. Not a boastworthy Upper West Side life, but a good one.
Showing posts with label optimism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label optimism. Show all posts
Friday, August 10, 2018
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
This is Long Overdue (Now Where's my Videographer?)
I have written so much about the short-sightedness and ignorance of age discrimination in the performing arts, and everywhere, so three cheers to this well-respected blogger (which I apparently am not) for posting this.
http://kashu-do.blogspot.cz/2016/05/the-aging-operatic-voice-baseless.html
The video of the "amateur" soprano singing "La Vergine degli'Angeli" is beyond amazing. So yes, this is possible. There is no reason to throw in the towel if you're over 50 or over 60. There's no reason why I should assume (or other people should assume) that how I sounded at 57 must be the best I'm ever going to sound and that after that it will be downhill all the way. There's no reason to assume that someone over 55 is "not a future investment". I can understand people worrying when it comes to playing a character, or doing certain kinds of staging, but why does the Oratorio Society of New York have an age limit of 40 for their solo competition? Does it matter what you look like if you're singing with a chorus and an orchestra? Does it matter if you have mobility challenges that make it hard for you to look graceful running down a flight of stairs if you can sing Bach glorioiusly?
But this does underscore the need for people to have people in their lives who know what to do with a video camera. If the elderly soprano hadn't had someone to make that Youtube video, no one would know about her. So who did that, I wonder?
If nothing else, it gives me hope. I am my own future investment.
http://kashu-do.blogspot.cz/2016/05/the-aging-operatic-voice-baseless.html
The video of the "amateur" soprano singing "La Vergine degli'Angeli" is beyond amazing. So yes, this is possible. There is no reason to throw in the towel if you're over 50 or over 60. There's no reason why I should assume (or other people should assume) that how I sounded at 57 must be the best I'm ever going to sound and that after that it will be downhill all the way. There's no reason to assume that someone over 55 is "not a future investment". I can understand people worrying when it comes to playing a character, or doing certain kinds of staging, but why does the Oratorio Society of New York have an age limit of 40 for their solo competition? Does it matter what you look like if you're singing with a chorus and an orchestra? Does it matter if you have mobility challenges that make it hard for you to look graceful running down a flight of stairs if you can sing Bach glorioiusly?
But this does underscore the need for people to have people in their lives who know what to do with a video camera. If the elderly soprano hadn't had someone to make that Youtube video, no one would know about her. So who did that, I wonder?
If nothing else, it gives me hope. I am my own future investment.
Saturday, June 6, 2015
A Dream Deferred Whose Hour Has Come
So many good things are happening to my voice it is like an avalanche that I can't stop. Just as I spent years trying to pick apart what was wrong, why things were stalled, why I was struggling, now I am, in a way, amid all the excitement, trying to make sense of what has been going right. Why now? I am a month away from my 65th birthday and when I am not singing, copyediting, or taking care of my partner, I am taking care of the business of getting old: getting a Medicare card, filling out forms to get my reduced fare Metrocard. Looking forward to my next birthday when I can start getting an extra $2000 a month and really can just work 25 hours a week without pillaging my savings.
So the question is "why now"? I still have the same teacher, whom at some points a few years ago people had wondered if I should leave, and who, himself, was frustrated with me. He only gave me one new suggestion really: to begin all my vocalizing with a slightly aspirated "h" sound. Am I reaping the benefits of having used the Neti pot every day? Were so many of my problems not the result of years of smoking, or of being a New Yorker who spoke only in chest voice (my speaking voice has not changed), but of liberating my head resonators which had been clogged up for decades?
Every day I hear improvements, My voice soars up into a head space I never knew I had. The ascending scales in the Amneris/Radames duet require little effort. And when I returned to the sections of the role that I had sung well, but with hard work (the feeling of girding my loins and making that extra biiiiiig effort to push out those A flats and A naturals) they were so easy. My teacher was, actually, quite astonished as he has heard me struggle with those B flats for a good five years or more. (This was actually the second time in a year that he has had that reaction: the first was after I read through the Giovanna/Enrico duet a number of months ago.)
It is hard to believe that this is really me. That this is my voice.
Of course part of me says so what? Who cares?
I just finished reading this article and thought about dreams. My dreams, going back fifty years now.
I didn't stay with them. Too many things intervened. My excitement over my instrument "caught fire" three times before that fateful Valentine's Day in 2004, but something always put the fire out.
The first time I was only 15 and a friend of my mother's, a high school music teacher, got really excited at what she heard when I opened my mouth to sing. I had spent my childhood imitating Julie Andrews and by my teen years I could sing all the soprano solos from all the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas. But weeks went by, and to me it was more important to smoke to stay thin (I was built like Kim Novak and yearned to look like Twiggy - it was 1964) and anyhow, singing classical music wasn't cool (interestingly, it never occurred to me to sing anything else; if I wasn't going to sing classical music, I would smoke and write instead).
More years went by, I continued to smoke (and drink) and had a sometimes (not often) paying gig singing as a Gilbert and Sullivan contralto (yes, a real whiskey contralto, but still singing in the classical style). It was through someone I sang with that I met the voice teacher I have referred to as Mr. B.. He got me to sing "O Don Fatale", which was rather amazing considering that I was still smoking and drinking. But the more I smoked and drank, and sang 8 shows a week (mostly in the chorus except on days when the official lead contralto had other commitments or was ill), the worse I sounded. So the fire fizzled out.
I had one last chance. After I stopped drinking and smoking, I dusted off the dream and found the teacher I am studying with now. (I think I had been offered a small role in one of the no pay opera companies - which in those days really were for amateurs - by a former G&S colleague.) My voice was about one third the size it is now and I never could really sing above a high A although I somehow managed to squeak my way up to that B at the end of the "Seguidilla" to sing at auditions. And in my persona as Amazon Dyke Warrior I could be typecast in trouser roles. After five years, I really was sounding good and even finally had a usable B flat. I even got cast as Laura in La Gioconda. But the time was not right. The was opera before Patricia Racette and as an un-closeted Lesbian with a passion for singing opera (including big dramatic mezzo roles where I had to play "straight") I simply didn't know what to do with myself.
At 54 I got another chance. I knew that the magic I had felt on that fateful Valentine's Day could not be for nothing. That I had to see this journey through to the end. I suffered a lot (as you have read in these pages; the entries are too numerous to link back to). I struggled with my upper register. I felt like The Ugly Dachshund at choir rehearsals. My partner didn't want me to sing (other than in church) because it reminded her of my obsession with The Mentor. I was rejected by all 10 of the opera companies in the city that don't pay people, by some less than kindly.
And now I'm even older. I really do think I am now on the cusp of sounding like the semi-professionals who sing at those companies but so what? I still have nothing on my resume to speak of and am even less mobile (I seriously doubt that I could perform in any opera involving staging, even as an "old lady" character.) And I really look old. And really. Maybe if I opened my mouth for someone tomorrow and was even, well, 40! someone (with some clout) might be excited by how I sound, but not now.
So I guess I just have to be excited all by myself. Or with my teacher.
But yes, there is a future. Maybe not one involving internship programs, but one involving Carmen. I said that program had "legs" and I just put in a bid to perform it at the LGBT center where my partner gets social services. They have a huge room with a piano where they provide entertainment. The accompanist who played for Carmen and for my latest concert said that he put on a concert of opera scenes there with a group of students. So we will see.
And I am going to sing "O Rest in the Lord" next Sunday when the choir is singing an excerpt from Elijah. (Ever the zwischen there, I will be singing in that piece in the soprano section.) The way things are going I am sure I can still be singing oratorio solos when I'm 80.
So the question is "why now"? I still have the same teacher, whom at some points a few years ago people had wondered if I should leave, and who, himself, was frustrated with me. He only gave me one new suggestion really: to begin all my vocalizing with a slightly aspirated "h" sound. Am I reaping the benefits of having used the Neti pot every day? Were so many of my problems not the result of years of smoking, or of being a New Yorker who spoke only in chest voice (my speaking voice has not changed), but of liberating my head resonators which had been clogged up for decades?
Every day I hear improvements, My voice soars up into a head space I never knew I had. The ascending scales in the Amneris/Radames duet require little effort. And when I returned to the sections of the role that I had sung well, but with hard work (the feeling of girding my loins and making that extra biiiiiig effort to push out those A flats and A naturals) they were so easy. My teacher was, actually, quite astonished as he has heard me struggle with those B flats for a good five years or more. (This was actually the second time in a year that he has had that reaction: the first was after I read through the Giovanna/Enrico duet a number of months ago.)
It is hard to believe that this is really me. That this is my voice.
Of course part of me says so what? Who cares?
I just finished reading this article and thought about dreams. My dreams, going back fifty years now.
I didn't stay with them. Too many things intervened. My excitement over my instrument "caught fire" three times before that fateful Valentine's Day in 2004, but something always put the fire out.
The first time I was only 15 and a friend of my mother's, a high school music teacher, got really excited at what she heard when I opened my mouth to sing. I had spent my childhood imitating Julie Andrews and by my teen years I could sing all the soprano solos from all the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas. But weeks went by, and to me it was more important to smoke to stay thin (I was built like Kim Novak and yearned to look like Twiggy - it was 1964) and anyhow, singing classical music wasn't cool (interestingly, it never occurred to me to sing anything else; if I wasn't going to sing classical music, I would smoke and write instead).
More years went by, I continued to smoke (and drink) and had a sometimes (not often) paying gig singing as a Gilbert and Sullivan contralto (yes, a real whiskey contralto, but still singing in the classical style). It was through someone I sang with that I met the voice teacher I have referred to as Mr. B.. He got me to sing "O Don Fatale", which was rather amazing considering that I was still smoking and drinking. But the more I smoked and drank, and sang 8 shows a week (mostly in the chorus except on days when the official lead contralto had other commitments or was ill), the worse I sounded. So the fire fizzled out.
I had one last chance. After I stopped drinking and smoking, I dusted off the dream and found the teacher I am studying with now. (I think I had been offered a small role in one of the no pay opera companies - which in those days really were for amateurs - by a former G&S colleague.) My voice was about one third the size it is now and I never could really sing above a high A although I somehow managed to squeak my way up to that B at the end of the "Seguidilla" to sing at auditions. And in my persona as Amazon Dyke Warrior I could be typecast in trouser roles. After five years, I really was sounding good and even finally had a usable B flat. I even got cast as Laura in La Gioconda. But the time was not right. The was opera before Patricia Racette and as an un-closeted Lesbian with a passion for singing opera (including big dramatic mezzo roles where I had to play "straight") I simply didn't know what to do with myself.
At 54 I got another chance. I knew that the magic I had felt on that fateful Valentine's Day could not be for nothing. That I had to see this journey through to the end. I suffered a lot (as you have read in these pages; the entries are too numerous to link back to). I struggled with my upper register. I felt like The Ugly Dachshund at choir rehearsals. My partner didn't want me to sing (other than in church) because it reminded her of my obsession with The Mentor. I was rejected by all 10 of the opera companies in the city that don't pay people, by some less than kindly.
And now I'm even older. I really do think I am now on the cusp of sounding like the semi-professionals who sing at those companies but so what? I still have nothing on my resume to speak of and am even less mobile (I seriously doubt that I could perform in any opera involving staging, even as an "old lady" character.) And I really look old. And really. Maybe if I opened my mouth for someone tomorrow and was even, well, 40! someone (with some clout) might be excited by how I sound, but not now.
So I guess I just have to be excited all by myself. Or with my teacher.
But yes, there is a future. Maybe not one involving internship programs, but one involving Carmen. I said that program had "legs" and I just put in a bid to perform it at the LGBT center where my partner gets social services. They have a huge room with a piano where they provide entertainment. The accompanist who played for Carmen and for my latest concert said that he put on a concert of opera scenes there with a group of students. So we will see.
And I am going to sing "O Rest in the Lord" next Sunday when the choir is singing an excerpt from Elijah. (Ever the zwischen there, I will be singing in that piece in the soprano section.) The way things are going I am sure I can still be singing oratorio solos when I'm 80.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
First Rehearsal Went Well! Can This Be the "New Normal"?
After not being able to sing for a week, and practicing very carefully, I sang through the entire concert program yesterday, and with one or two exceptions, I was thrilled with how things sounded.
For starters, the Bolena duet, which is in a high tessitura, sounded fabulous and felt so easy! The sustained high A in the opening recit felt like I could hold it forever. It just sailed up into some head space that I never had before and shimmered. This is the sound I have longed for for so many years and could never find. It can't all be because of my cleaning out my sinuses with the Neti pot, can it? I have also been taking Mucinex twice a day now. Maybe that helps also. Maybe I should just take it forever. It seems like a pretty benign medication. Of course I am sure a lot of it is technique, and learning new muscle habits. Laura's aria didn't sound quite as good, probably because I use a heavier sound and it is something I sang for the first time in 1980, then sang a lot in my early days of study this time around.
The only thing that did not sound good was the Dalila and Daddy duet. I am still having some trouble with my lower passagio (not the lowest notes, but the notes around E and F at the bottom of the staff) and at one point my voice actually cracked on an F. But I would rather have to deal with that than with high notes not happening. I also need to work on the run at the end of the duet. It starts on middle C and goes up to a high A flat and back down. The problem is, I think, that that duet uses a heavy sound in a low tessitura and suddenly I have to get my voice to move. I had no trouble with the ornamented phrases in the Bolena.
So now the question is: will this new technical proficiency, particularly with my top notes and the big head space that I have found (and I have a tiny little head, not your normal singer shape with wide cheekbones) become the "new normal"? Will I be able to replicate what I did yesterday?
Here are three signs that things are going well. The pianist, who hasn't heard me since Carmen, told me how good I sounded. My teacher said he was pleased. My teacher invited a lot of his friends.
I only hope that someone will make a video, even just a cell phone video. My teacher said he will make a "recording" but that means a CD, which is not something I can use for post and boast (presuming that there is something to boast about!!!) And at the very least I hope someone takes a still photo. The lack of these things is one of the many things about being my age that are a bummer. I don't have techie friends.
For starters, the Bolena duet, which is in a high tessitura, sounded fabulous and felt so easy! The sustained high A in the opening recit felt like I could hold it forever. It just sailed up into some head space that I never had before and shimmered. This is the sound I have longed for for so many years and could never find. It can't all be because of my cleaning out my sinuses with the Neti pot, can it? I have also been taking Mucinex twice a day now. Maybe that helps also. Maybe I should just take it forever. It seems like a pretty benign medication. Of course I am sure a lot of it is technique, and learning new muscle habits. Laura's aria didn't sound quite as good, probably because I use a heavier sound and it is something I sang for the first time in 1980, then sang a lot in my early days of study this time around.
The only thing that did not sound good was the Dalila and Daddy duet. I am still having some trouble with my lower passagio (not the lowest notes, but the notes around E and F at the bottom of the staff) and at one point my voice actually cracked on an F. But I would rather have to deal with that than with high notes not happening. I also need to work on the run at the end of the duet. It starts on middle C and goes up to a high A flat and back down. The problem is, I think, that that duet uses a heavy sound in a low tessitura and suddenly I have to get my voice to move. I had no trouble with the ornamented phrases in the Bolena.
So now the question is: will this new technical proficiency, particularly with my top notes and the big head space that I have found (and I have a tiny little head, not your normal singer shape with wide cheekbones) become the "new normal"? Will I be able to replicate what I did yesterday?
Here are three signs that things are going well. The pianist, who hasn't heard me since Carmen, told me how good I sounded. My teacher said he was pleased. My teacher invited a lot of his friends.
I only hope that someone will make a video, even just a cell phone video. My teacher said he will make a "recording" but that means a CD, which is not something I can use for post and boast (presuming that there is something to boast about!!!) And at the very least I hope someone takes a still photo. The lack of these things is one of the many things about being my age that are a bummer. I don't have techie friends.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Looking Up (No Qualifiers this Time)
I feel it behooves me to write when things are going well as much as when they are not.
I now have a very busy Good Friday, with several featured spots. I will be singing the Rossini "Agnus Dei" in the noon service, which I had agreed to do before I knew what was going to be going on with the evening service. Now I see that I will also be part of three of the solo quartets in the Dvorak Requiem at night. I am thrilled. There is nothing vocally demanding there (the most vocally demanding thing is one line in the soprano chorus part, which I am still singing, and which I know what to do with technically as I can sing it full voice). It is musically demanding, especially for me as someone who does not have a music theory background. But to date my ear has not failed me (I was able to nail my solo line in all the Verdi Requiem ensembles) so it will not fail me now. A friend gave me an iPad, so I can put it on my dining table with my electronic keyboard and sing against various Youtube videos of the sections I need to learn. Of course I can read music. A very respected voice teacher gave a lecture about how instrumentalists laugh at singers who can't read music (I assume she was talking about nonclassical singers who don't read music at all.). What I can't do is sight sing because I don't know anything about chord structure. But I will master this. There are four measures that are very difficult, but I can feel myself on top of them already. The rest should be simple. I mean there have been times when we were singing a choral piece and I ended up being the only second soprano and I never had a problem.
What's also nice is that the solos are in the form of a quartet so everyone who wants a solo can have one. In one of the quartets I will be switched out for the other mezzo who wants a solo, which makes me very happy. When I was unhappy, it was never that I wanted all the good stuff for myself, it was that I wanted the good stuff distributed equitably.
What's sort of bittersweet is that (apparently) it seems that this meltdown that I had did some good. Afterwards I was embarrassed, because it looked like I got upset over a very small thing, but it was not over that one thing it was over something that had been brewing for a long time. Maybe the squeaky wheel truism is really, well, true?
Anyhow, it's now a new day, and I am praying now to be worthy of all the opportunities I have been blessed with.
Last night I sang Schubert's "Abendlied" in an evening church service, and it was well received. Someone may have made a video. I am not sure. And I had a nice conversation with the two choir directors about Schubert. I said I would be happy for more suggestions of lieder to sing. We discussed "Du Bist die Ruh" which I have in several keys. That would be nice for a church service because the "du" could be taken to mean "God".
That's really all I had been asking for. To have people believe that I have a future. If I am singing better at 64 than I ever did, there is an object lesson there somewhere.
I now have a very busy Good Friday, with several featured spots. I will be singing the Rossini "Agnus Dei" in the noon service, which I had agreed to do before I knew what was going to be going on with the evening service. Now I see that I will also be part of three of the solo quartets in the Dvorak Requiem at night. I am thrilled. There is nothing vocally demanding there (the most vocally demanding thing is one line in the soprano chorus part, which I am still singing, and which I know what to do with technically as I can sing it full voice). It is musically demanding, especially for me as someone who does not have a music theory background. But to date my ear has not failed me (I was able to nail my solo line in all the Verdi Requiem ensembles) so it will not fail me now. A friend gave me an iPad, so I can put it on my dining table with my electronic keyboard and sing against various Youtube videos of the sections I need to learn. Of course I can read music. A very respected voice teacher gave a lecture about how instrumentalists laugh at singers who can't read music (I assume she was talking about nonclassical singers who don't read music at all.). What I can't do is sight sing because I don't know anything about chord structure. But I will master this. There are four measures that are very difficult, but I can feel myself on top of them already. The rest should be simple. I mean there have been times when we were singing a choral piece and I ended up being the only second soprano and I never had a problem.
What's also nice is that the solos are in the form of a quartet so everyone who wants a solo can have one. In one of the quartets I will be switched out for the other mezzo who wants a solo, which makes me very happy. When I was unhappy, it was never that I wanted all the good stuff for myself, it was that I wanted the good stuff distributed equitably.
What's sort of bittersweet is that (apparently) it seems that this meltdown that I had did some good. Afterwards I was embarrassed, because it looked like I got upset over a very small thing, but it was not over that one thing it was over something that had been brewing for a long time. Maybe the squeaky wheel truism is really, well, true?
Anyhow, it's now a new day, and I am praying now to be worthy of all the opportunities I have been blessed with.
Last night I sang Schubert's "Abendlied" in an evening church service, and it was well received. Someone may have made a video. I am not sure. And I had a nice conversation with the two choir directors about Schubert. I said I would be happy for more suggestions of lieder to sing. We discussed "Du Bist die Ruh" which I have in several keys. That would be nice for a church service because the "du" could be taken to mean "God".
That's really all I had been asking for. To have people believe that I have a future. If I am singing better at 64 than I ever did, there is an object lesson there somewhere.
Monday, March 9, 2015
Looking Up! (And a Nod to Fifty Shades of Praise)
I now have a really exciting gig coming up!! I will be singing the Rossini "Agnus Dei" (aka the "sexy Agnus Dei") on Good Friday at noon. I have no idea how well attended that service will be (I sang once on Ash Wednesday at noon and it was fairly well attended although not as well attended as the night service with choir and orchestra) but I am looking forward to it nonetheless. This is something I have always dreamed of singing. It is one of those "big girl" oratorio pieces albeit one that does not go above an E natural, so I should have plenty of stamina left for singing soprano in the Dvorak Requiem at night.
And I will also be singing something (not positive what) in one of the Wednesday evening Lent services. The Director sent me a pdf of Schubert's "Abendlied" but it is in too high a key. I was not able to easily find it online in another key, so he said he would look and see if he could find it.
So overall things are looking up. My vocal progress continues.
As for the second half of this post, before I got the good news about my two gigs, I was going to post this anyhow, so, as it is a catchy title and I feel that I am "onto something" I want to append it here. This is not a complaint, really more of an observation, and I think it could apply to anyone or anything.
I have said that I feel often like a plant that is not watered because I don't get enough praise. I don't mean as a substitute for constructive criticism. These are not mutually exclusive and in fact often they don't come from the same people. So I tried to think of all the different kinds of praise and what they mean, and which ones I yearn for and am not getting. So OK, maybe there are not really fifty, probably ten.
1. Praise from a teacher or coach (at a lesson or session). This usually follows having worked on something in response to constructive criticism. It is praise that has to be earned. It is never given if it is not meant and it is usually given in private, in the context of a one on one session.
2. Praise after a performance (general). This is given (privately) from members of the audience. Sometimes it is heartfelt, sometimes it is just polite. Sometimes it is specific, and actually helpful. Sometimes it is extremely specific and has some constructive criticism thrown in, if the person giving feedback has musical knowledge, or has heard you before and knows your strengths and weaknesses.
3. Praise after a performance (friends and family). This could keep trickling in for several days after, in the form of a call or an email. Although there may be some constructive criticism interwoven, it can sometimes be taken with a grain of salt, as most of these people are not musically knowledgeable (e.g., there are people who think operatic singing sounds "screamy" even if you're singing well). Sometimes the constructive criticism pertains to things other than singing, and really can be helpful, such as "that was not a flattering dress; you should probably give it away and wear something else next time". Pretty much all of this is given in private, unless someone who heard you tells someone who didn't how great you sounded.
4. Praise after a performance (friends and family, the high tech version). This is something I do not get and younger people (like Little Miss) do. This can involve friends and family making videos of your performance and posting on their Facebook pages, your Facebook pages, and their entire friendslist's Facebook pages, combined with a lot of public kvelling.
5. Praise after a performance (teachers and coaches, the low tech version). This is not that dissimilar to 1, but as it is given after a performance, praise usually comes first, criticism later, unless something went terribly wrong. This again is usually a one-on-one exchange.
6. Praise after a performance (teachers and coaches, the high tech version). This is not that different from 4, except that a teacher or coach will be choosier about whom s/he sends the video to and where s/he posts it.
7. Praise after a performance (the afterglow of the buzz). This was what Little Miss's recital got, that my Carmen did not. What my mother would have called "the water cooler gossip". People still talking about your event for some time after it happened, to people who weren't there. This can include a bit of 4.
8. Praise in front of a group. This again is something I don't recall getting at all, which Little Miss got quite a bit of. This can run the gamut from a choir director or other authority figure saying "let's give __________a hand" to the group breaking into applause, to someone yelling "Go YM!!!" (I don't think anyone ever yelled "Go BabyD!!!" when I sang something louder and fuller, or sweeter and more properly in tune, or held a note longer than the group.)
9. Praise through giving one's imprimatur. I have gotten some of this, usually at my instigation, but not as much as others, or as I felt was my due. This can include someone's forwarding your e-flyers, reposting your Facebook invitations, or making an announcement inviting people to come "show their support". If you do this yourself, it does not serve the same purpose.
10. Praise through shared assumptions (which is particularly dangerous if those assumptions are, in fact, not shared). This again is something that Little Miss got a lot of that I did not, which triggered my meltdown a few weeks ago. This rubric includes things such as "oh, don't worry, _________ will be here Sunday" or buzzing around someone making them feel (and signaling to everyone else) that they are sui generis because their presence or absence can make or break a piece of music. Setting up a situation where one person is acknowledged to be the "star" of a group and everyone is OK with it because most of the other people, although hardworking, are not that serious about the whole thing (which of course is deadly if there are other "star" contenders). But for the "star" it's a nice feeling to have. That's you're the Queen Bee. In one venue anyhow. Definitely on my "bucket list". (Then you need to make sure you're still getting the constructive criticism and tweaking and perfecting you need so you don't "rust" on your laurels, as it were.)
And now it's time to go practice!! I'm so excited about diving into the "Agnus Dei".
And I will also be singing something (not positive what) in one of the Wednesday evening Lent services. The Director sent me a pdf of Schubert's "Abendlied" but it is in too high a key. I was not able to easily find it online in another key, so he said he would look and see if he could find it.
So overall things are looking up. My vocal progress continues.
As for the second half of this post, before I got the good news about my two gigs, I was going to post this anyhow, so, as it is a catchy title and I feel that I am "onto something" I want to append it here. This is not a complaint, really more of an observation, and I think it could apply to anyone or anything.
I have said that I feel often like a plant that is not watered because I don't get enough praise. I don't mean as a substitute for constructive criticism. These are not mutually exclusive and in fact often they don't come from the same people. So I tried to think of all the different kinds of praise and what they mean, and which ones I yearn for and am not getting. So OK, maybe there are not really fifty, probably ten.
1. Praise from a teacher or coach (at a lesson or session). This usually follows having worked on something in response to constructive criticism. It is praise that has to be earned. It is never given if it is not meant and it is usually given in private, in the context of a one on one session.
2. Praise after a performance (general). This is given (privately) from members of the audience. Sometimes it is heartfelt, sometimes it is just polite. Sometimes it is specific, and actually helpful. Sometimes it is extremely specific and has some constructive criticism thrown in, if the person giving feedback has musical knowledge, or has heard you before and knows your strengths and weaknesses.
3. Praise after a performance (friends and family). This could keep trickling in for several days after, in the form of a call or an email. Although there may be some constructive criticism interwoven, it can sometimes be taken with a grain of salt, as most of these people are not musically knowledgeable (e.g., there are people who think operatic singing sounds "screamy" even if you're singing well). Sometimes the constructive criticism pertains to things other than singing, and really can be helpful, such as "that was not a flattering dress; you should probably give it away and wear something else next time". Pretty much all of this is given in private, unless someone who heard you tells someone who didn't how great you sounded.
4. Praise after a performance (friends and family, the high tech version). This is something I do not get and younger people (like Little Miss) do. This can involve friends and family making videos of your performance and posting on their Facebook pages, your Facebook pages, and their entire friendslist's Facebook pages, combined with a lot of public kvelling.
5. Praise after a performance (teachers and coaches, the low tech version). This is not that dissimilar to 1, but as it is given after a performance, praise usually comes first, criticism later, unless something went terribly wrong. This again is usually a one-on-one exchange.
6. Praise after a performance (teachers and coaches, the high tech version). This is not that different from 4, except that a teacher or coach will be choosier about whom s/he sends the video to and where s/he posts it.
7. Praise after a performance (the afterglow of the buzz). This was what Little Miss's recital got, that my Carmen did not. What my mother would have called "the water cooler gossip". People still talking about your event for some time after it happened, to people who weren't there. This can include a bit of 4.
8. Praise in front of a group. This again is something I don't recall getting at all, which Little Miss got quite a bit of. This can run the gamut from a choir director or other authority figure saying "let's give __________a hand" to the group breaking into applause, to someone yelling "Go YM!!!" (I don't think anyone ever yelled "Go BabyD!!!" when I sang something louder and fuller, or sweeter and more properly in tune, or held a note longer than the group.)
9. Praise through giving one's imprimatur. I have gotten some of this, usually at my instigation, but not as much as others, or as I felt was my due. This can include someone's forwarding your e-flyers, reposting your Facebook invitations, or making an announcement inviting people to come "show their support". If you do this yourself, it does not serve the same purpose.
10. Praise through shared assumptions (which is particularly dangerous if those assumptions are, in fact, not shared). This again is something that Little Miss got a lot of that I did not, which triggered my meltdown a few weeks ago. This rubric includes things such as "oh, don't worry, _________ will be here Sunday" or buzzing around someone making them feel (and signaling to everyone else) that they are sui generis because their presence or absence can make or break a piece of music. Setting up a situation where one person is acknowledged to be the "star" of a group and everyone is OK with it because most of the other people, although hardworking, are not that serious about the whole thing (which of course is deadly if there are other "star" contenders). But for the "star" it's a nice feeling to have. That's you're the Queen Bee. In one venue anyhow. Definitely on my "bucket list". (Then you need to make sure you're still getting the constructive criticism and tweaking and perfecting you need so you don't "rust" on your laurels, as it were.)
And now it's time to go practice!! I'm so excited about diving into the "Agnus Dei".
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Not Grieving Today
I feel the need to drop by today to reassure readers after that lengthy and perhaps maudlin post of yesterday (although I didn't mean it to be such; it was more of an essay on the nature of grieving than a plaint), that today I am feeling really happy.
First I have to say that some of the personnel changes at the church that are in progress are making a difference.
The new Director of Music Ministries was trained as a choral conductor. He teaches at a city college and directs their community chorus. Community choruses are often places where late blooming talent blooms, so I feel that he can relate.
Last night this new Director led the choir and it just "felt" different. He got there late and told us to "warm up on our own" so Little Miss (the one he had called because her boyfriend works at the church and therefore she has keys) and I actually led the warmups as a group effort!! It was fun. And when we got to singing the choral pieces I never felt that I had to pretend to sound like a light soprano or I would get a snarky look. I just sang with my real voice and followed the dynamics. And you had better believe that people noticed that in one place there was an E at the bottom of the staff that I was able to hold for four (slow) measures.
After rehearsal we went through "Et Exsultavit" for the Spanish service. It was fun, and he provided a supportive accompaniment. I didn't worry that I was singing too loud, I just went with the flow of the piece (and, in the Director's words "nailed" that long run).
After that I just blurted out "now I have to find something to sing for Lent". So we discussed different denominations' take on Lent and the music they wanted to use. Then I asked him if he had ever heard the "sexy Agnus dei"
http://youtu.be/LMO9Yk41LUM
He told me yes, that he had done the choral version with one of his community choruses (I don't know if this was as a director or a chorister). And I. may. get. to. sing. it. this. Lent. Not with the choral backup, and perhaps with a cut, but it is a possiblitiy!!!. And if not, I will find something else.
First I have to say that some of the personnel changes at the church that are in progress are making a difference.
The new Director of Music Ministries was trained as a choral conductor. He teaches at a city college and directs their community chorus. Community choruses are often places where late blooming talent blooms, so I feel that he can relate.
Last night this new Director led the choir and it just "felt" different. He got there late and told us to "warm up on our own" so Little Miss (the one he had called because her boyfriend works at the church and therefore she has keys) and I actually led the warmups as a group effort!! It was fun. And when we got to singing the choral pieces I never felt that I had to pretend to sound like a light soprano or I would get a snarky look. I just sang with my real voice and followed the dynamics. And you had better believe that people noticed that in one place there was an E at the bottom of the staff that I was able to hold for four (slow) measures.
After rehearsal we went through "Et Exsultavit" for the Spanish service. It was fun, and he provided a supportive accompaniment. I didn't worry that I was singing too loud, I just went with the flow of the piece (and, in the Director's words "nailed" that long run).
After that I just blurted out "now I have to find something to sing for Lent". So we discussed different denominations' take on Lent and the music they wanted to use. Then I asked him if he had ever heard the "sexy Agnus dei"
http://youtu.be/LMO9Yk41LUM
He told me yes, that he had done the choral version with one of his community choruses (I don't know if this was as a director or a chorister). And I. may. get. to. sing. it. this. Lent. Not with the choral backup, and perhaps with a cut, but it is a possiblitiy!!!. And if not, I will find something else.
Monday, September 1, 2014
Erfreute Zeit!
Yesterday morning I sang one of my all-time favorite church solos: the Bach alto cantata "Erfreute Zeit" (loosely translated as "A Happy Time").
I love singing this piece for a variety of reasons. First, it has a virtuoso violin accompaniment and is, in fact, more of a duet for voice and violin than a solo. I sang it in the summer of 2011, sans violinist, because that was the summer that my beloved violinist friend began his rapid decline (he was 88) and was no longer able to see the music (or remember it from one day to the next). Second, it is an object lesson in the fact that you don't have to have a high voice to sing something flashy (something that triggers a gut level "wow"! reaction from listeners). (Here is a link to the version by Angelika Kirchschlager.)http://youtu.be/Dpj5N9lTnHM Finally, I love the piece because it is happy.
I had a really happy day yesterday. It is the kind of day I wish I could have more of. Singing, in a situation where I don't feel I'm competing with anyone, and in which, in that moment, I can excel on my own merits. Getting acknowledgment (I got compliments, Facebook posts, and even applause, which is almost unheard of for a church anthem.) And then, when my inner diva is satisfied, enjoying other people for their gifts and their friendship, and letting the day wind down by doing something cozy with my SO, or even at home in my bed with my little Siamese cat (yesterday I did both).
I find these moments of happiness very hard to come by (the glorious ones, not the quiet ones; the latter for me are much easier to find). So should I be damned for this?
After the suicide of Robin Williams there has been a lot of talk about depression. People, at least in the circles in which I move, understand depression the way they understand cancer or diabetes. Unfortunately, according to both my therapist and on online screening test, I am not depressed, so people write me off as having a bad attitude. I don't think that is true either. I think (this was a term my therapist used) I am suffering from "affluenza", in other words, as I wrote here I am in a "toxic environment".
So I need a way to find more "Erfreute Zeit" moments.
On September 11 I will be singing Handel's "O Had I Jubal's Lyre". That can be one of them. And then there will probably be a Christmas concert.
I love singing this piece for a variety of reasons. First, it has a virtuoso violin accompaniment and is, in fact, more of a duet for voice and violin than a solo. I sang it in the summer of 2011, sans violinist, because that was the summer that my beloved violinist friend began his rapid decline (he was 88) and was no longer able to see the music (or remember it from one day to the next). Second, it is an object lesson in the fact that you don't have to have a high voice to sing something flashy (something that triggers a gut level "wow"! reaction from listeners). (Here is a link to the version by Angelika Kirchschlager.)http://youtu.be/Dpj5N9lTnHM Finally, I love the piece because it is happy.
I had a really happy day yesterday. It is the kind of day I wish I could have more of. Singing, in a situation where I don't feel I'm competing with anyone, and in which, in that moment, I can excel on my own merits. Getting acknowledgment (I got compliments, Facebook posts, and even applause, which is almost unheard of for a church anthem.) And then, when my inner diva is satisfied, enjoying other people for their gifts and their friendship, and letting the day wind down by doing something cozy with my SO, or even at home in my bed with my little Siamese cat (yesterday I did both).
I find these moments of happiness very hard to come by (the glorious ones, not the quiet ones; the latter for me are much easier to find). So should I be damned for this?
After the suicide of Robin Williams there has been a lot of talk about depression. People, at least in the circles in which I move, understand depression the way they understand cancer or diabetes. Unfortunately, according to both my therapist and on online screening test, I am not depressed, so people write me off as having a bad attitude. I don't think that is true either. I think (this was a term my therapist used) I am suffering from "affluenza", in other words, as I wrote here I am in a "toxic environment".
So I need a way to find more "Erfreute Zeit" moments.
On September 11 I will be singing Handel's "O Had I Jubal's Lyre". That can be one of them. And then there will probably be a Christmas concert.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Some
Particularly in view of my last post, I want to write here about the fabulous time I had last night working on the "Habanera"! I have been singing this piece for 49 years yikes!! yet it is always fresh.
Last night I got the kind of holistic coaching that I had not gotten since working with The Mentor. Some of the vocal things are not 100% in synch with what my teacher tells me, but as the piece is in a comfortable middle register, it doesn't matter. The Spanish coach (she considers Carmen like Spanish music, and is very excited about working on it with me) told me to pronounce the French like spoken French, very forward and nasal, and to emphasize the consonants. She also wants it more self-contained and sneery. There won't be room to walk among the guests, so she suggested using a chair (which will be by the piano) as a prop. I am a little nervous because with my bad arthritis, standing up and sitting down gracefully is not easy, but this chair is high enough (unlike a church pew) that it should certainly be manageable. She also gave me a silk rose, and there are all sorts of things I can do with that that will be quite titillating.
I was going to wear these shoes, which I had worn at the bookstore, but the buckle is broken and I won't have time to get it repaired by Sunday, so I will wear black ones. I am a little nervous about walking in heels, but they are not high and the shoes have rubber soles.
Last night I got the kind of holistic coaching that I had not gotten since working with The Mentor. Some of the vocal things are not 100% in synch with what my teacher tells me, but as the piece is in a comfortable middle register, it doesn't matter. The Spanish coach (she considers Carmen like Spanish music, and is very excited about working on it with me) told me to pronounce the French like spoken French, very forward and nasal, and to emphasize the consonants. She also wants it more self-contained and sneery. There won't be room to walk among the guests, so she suggested using a chair (which will be by the piano) as a prop. I am a little nervous because with my bad arthritis, standing up and sitting down gracefully is not easy, but this chair is high enough (unlike a church pew) that it should certainly be manageable. She also gave me a silk rose, and there are all sorts of things I can do with that that will be quite titillating.
I was going to wear these shoes, which I had worn at the bookstore, but the buckle is broken and I won't have time to get it repaired by Sunday, so I will wear black ones. I am a little nervous about walking in heels, but they are not high and the shoes have rubber soles.
And the date for the Carmen concert is confirmed!! I reminded the tenor, and asked him about finding a Micaela and an Escamillo. I said that if these were people from the pay to sing group it would be "nice" if they chipped in to pay the accompanist for the performance and 2 or 3 rehearsals. I hope that didn't put him off. I know he has sung with that pay to sing group but I have no idea if he has paid anything. He is a member of the Met chorus. I would not ask him to pay anything, but when he mentioned finding the other singers he implied they would be "emerging" types.
I also sent an email to the accompanist the coach suggested.
Of course when I mentioned this to my partner, she made a snide remark about tenors (I had told her about the concert several months ago when I first had the idea) referring back to the Mentor. But this morning she apologized.
My back is about 95% better, and I have not taken any Advil since Monday. So I am going to try to schedule a lesson for next week and go back to my regular practice routine.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
A Heartfelt and Unexpected Compliment
I am really beginning to think that maybe things have turned a corner.
Over the past few years I have been deeply discouraged, first by realizing that no matter how well I sing, I will never be good enough to be cast by other people in a leading role in one of the no pay opera groups around here. That was a huge blow.
Second, I have not liked the feeling of being pushed into the background by the presence of (as distinct from being pushed into the background by) these young conservatory graduates and students who have taken the choir by storm.
My spirits began to be lifted by the Spanish woman who seems to have taken an interest in me. As a contrast, I don't really think my teacher is "interested in me" in that sense. He is interested in seeing that I sing as well as possible, and he is happy that I seem to be able to create opportunities for myself to sing in front of audiences, and if I ask him for advice he will give it, but if he needs a mezzo to do something, for example, he can always find someone better.
As I wrote a few days ago, I am really really excited not only that this woman is letting me do this Carmen concert, but that she, to some extent, want to take joint ownership of it.
As for the title of this post, I got an email from one of the women in the choir, another mezzo, who had had a minor career singing opera and choir gigs, who claims to have lost her upper register when she got into her 60s, and who now sings alto in the choir. She has always been very supportive of me, which I need to remember, as she is a conservatory graduate, and unlike the man who hurt my feelings, she seems to take me seriously.
She is also on the stewardship committee, so I'm sure a subtext of the lovely email she sent me is that she wants me to remember to donate some money to the church (which I have done for the past few years despite not being a baptised Christian; I do it because I care about their social outreach programs), but nonetheless she did write the following things, and I'm sure she meant them.
In the spirit of our theme, "delighting in God's gifts", I'm enjoying thinking about ways you give of yourself to [the church] and, thereby, to all of us. Of course, your singing in the chorale leaps to my mind first, and your beautiful solos during services. But then there are also the concerts on and off [the church] premises so many of us have enjoyed, and the benefit performances of the kind of music only serious singers, like you and your colleagues, can do. I know you have volunteered in other ways too (like helping [an elderly man in the congregation]), and your very presence is enlivening. . So for this and much more I'm sure I've forgotten for the moment (or don't even know about), a very big thank you
So it's really really nice to know that someone notices that I'm there, even when I think they don't.
Over the past few years I have been deeply discouraged, first by realizing that no matter how well I sing, I will never be good enough to be cast by other people in a leading role in one of the no pay opera groups around here. That was a huge blow.
Second, I have not liked the feeling of being pushed into the background by the presence of (as distinct from being pushed into the background by) these young conservatory graduates and students who have taken the choir by storm.
My spirits began to be lifted by the Spanish woman who seems to have taken an interest in me. As a contrast, I don't really think my teacher is "interested in me" in that sense. He is interested in seeing that I sing as well as possible, and he is happy that I seem to be able to create opportunities for myself to sing in front of audiences, and if I ask him for advice he will give it, but if he needs a mezzo to do something, for example, he can always find someone better.
As I wrote a few days ago, I am really really excited not only that this woman is letting me do this Carmen concert, but that she, to some extent, want to take joint ownership of it.
As for the title of this post, I got an email from one of the women in the choir, another mezzo, who had had a minor career singing opera and choir gigs, who claims to have lost her upper register when she got into her 60s, and who now sings alto in the choir. She has always been very supportive of me, which I need to remember, as she is a conservatory graduate, and unlike the man who hurt my feelings, she seems to take me seriously.
She is also on the stewardship committee, so I'm sure a subtext of the lovely email she sent me is that she wants me to remember to donate some money to the church (which I have done for the past few years despite not being a baptised Christian; I do it because I care about their social outreach programs), but nonetheless she did write the following things, and I'm sure she meant them.
In the spirit of our theme, "delighting in God's gifts", I'm enjoying thinking about ways you give of yourself to [the church] and, thereby, to all of us. Of course, your singing in the chorale leaps to my mind first, and your beautiful solos during services. But then there are also the concerts on and off [the church] premises so many of us have enjoyed, and the benefit performances of the kind of music only serious singers, like you and your colleagues, can do. I know you have volunteered in other ways too (like helping [an elderly man in the congregation]), and your very presence is enlivening. . So for this and much more I'm sure I've forgotten for the moment (or don't even know about), a very big thank you
So it's really really nice to know that someone notices that I'm there, even when I think they don't.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
And One *BIG* Thing
The concert version of Carmen that I had wanted to produce, in which sung scenes from the opera will be interspersed with readings from the book, is now definitely happening. I have selected several tentative dates in May. The woman who produced the 9/11 concert, the Spanish song coach, will sponsor me to produce this in the performance venue in her building. She is totally supportive of it. Maybe now I have a real mentor?
First, a tenor. I will ask the tenor from my Requiem first. I will wait until next week, when he is finished with his performance of Un Ballo in Maschera. If he wants to do more singing and find me a Micaela that will be great, although she is not in the book. Once he lets me know if/when he is available I can set a date. If he is not interested or available I have another list of tenors. Once I have a tenor I will firm up the date, and can work everything else around this.
My "sponsor" recommended an accompanist. I have heard him play for her when she has performed, and he is quite good. I will see if he is available.
Next, I will look for a reader. Sponsor gave me some suggestions, which I will follow up on.
She also said I could sing something from Carmen at her Spanish music concert, which now will probably be in June. I could sing the "Habanera" and the song by Manuel Garcia, which inspired it.
I am really excited about this.
In other news, Sponsor is having a workshop next week, to which I will bring "Cant deis Aucells" and "Nun Wandre Maria". Once the holidays are over I can bring some of the Carmen material to any workshops she has. I even think I may be able to sing the B in the "Seguidilla". I only have to hold it a nanosecond.
Lastly, The Mentor now seems to have changed his name. Or he seems to have two names. Would love to know the story behind this but of course there's no way for me to find out.
First, a tenor. I will ask the tenor from my Requiem first. I will wait until next week, when he is finished with his performance of Un Ballo in Maschera. If he wants to do more singing and find me a Micaela that will be great, although she is not in the book. Once he lets me know if/when he is available I can set a date. If he is not interested or available I have another list of tenors. Once I have a tenor I will firm up the date, and can work everything else around this.
My "sponsor" recommended an accompanist. I have heard him play for her when she has performed, and he is quite good. I will see if he is available.
Next, I will look for a reader. Sponsor gave me some suggestions, which I will follow up on.
She also said I could sing something from Carmen at her Spanish music concert, which now will probably be in June. I could sing the "Habanera" and the song by Manuel Garcia, which inspired it.
I am really excited about this.
In other news, Sponsor is having a workshop next week, to which I will bring "Cant deis Aucells" and "Nun Wandre Maria". Once the holidays are over I can bring some of the Carmen material to any workshops she has. I even think I may be able to sing the B in the "Seguidilla". I only have to hold it a nanosecond.
Lastly, The Mentor now seems to have changed his name. Or he seems to have two names. Would love to know the story behind this but of course there's no way for me to find out.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Happy?
This past week I've felt "happy" about singing in a way I haven't for several months.
First of all I'm getting to sing "Schlafe Mein Liebster" at the 9 am service a week from Sunday. (I would prefer singing during communion at 11 because getting up at 6 is hard, especially as I work at home and rarely get up that early any more) but getting to sing it at all is a privilege. The choir director made some unusual cuts in it so I can get to sing part of the "B" section and then go back and sing some of the "A" section as well.
And he heartily approved my plan to work with the violinist.
In one of my earlier posts I referred to wanting a "gimmick" that would set me apart from the herd. Well, I would hardly call Bach a "gimmick"!! but it's a niche. Bach wrote tons of arias for alto and soprano 2, most of which don't go above an E (but don't go too far below the staff either) but which require excellent breath control, agility, and a trill, all of which I have. This field is not as crowded, say, as the Amneris field and it's a repertoire I can continue to sing indefinitely as it's mostly performed in concert and, leaving vocal issues aside, the fact that babelicious as I look, it's obvious that I have a very hard time with stairs, running, or high heels, is a strike against me in costume opera.
My teacher agrees with me that this is a good thing for me to focus on, as it's a repertoire I enjoy singing and it's less nerve-wracking than trying to sing phrases up to a B flat in numbers requiring a lot of stamina. I told him I was worried that I would lose my upper register if I don't use it and he said first of all, I should continue my vocal exercises that go up to a high C (he agrees I shouldn't sing above a B flat in public) and keep working now and again on my arias and other opera scenes so if there's an opportunity I can pull one out and showcase it in a concert. (And who knows about that Carmen? If the tenor is serious he can find me a venue. )
First of all I'm getting to sing "Schlafe Mein Liebster" at the 9 am service a week from Sunday. (I would prefer singing during communion at 11 because getting up at 6 is hard, especially as I work at home and rarely get up that early any more) but getting to sing it at all is a privilege. The choir director made some unusual cuts in it so I can get to sing part of the "B" section and then go back and sing some of the "A" section as well.
And he heartily approved my plan to work with the violinist.
In one of my earlier posts I referred to wanting a "gimmick" that would set me apart from the herd. Well, I would hardly call Bach a "gimmick"!! but it's a niche. Bach wrote tons of arias for alto and soprano 2, most of which don't go above an E (but don't go too far below the staff either) but which require excellent breath control, agility, and a trill, all of which I have. This field is not as crowded, say, as the Amneris field and it's a repertoire I can continue to sing indefinitely as it's mostly performed in concert and, leaving vocal issues aside, the fact that babelicious as I look, it's obvious that I have a very hard time with stairs, running, or high heels, is a strike against me in costume opera.
My teacher agrees with me that this is a good thing for me to focus on, as it's a repertoire I enjoy singing and it's less nerve-wracking than trying to sing phrases up to a B flat in numbers requiring a lot of stamina. I told him I was worried that I would lose my upper register if I don't use it and he said first of all, I should continue my vocal exercises that go up to a high C (he agrees I shouldn't sing above a B flat in public) and keep working now and again on my arias and other opera scenes so if there's an opportunity I can pull one out and showcase it in a concert. (And who knows about that Carmen? If the tenor is serious he can find me a venue. )
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