In the Words of my Cynthia...

I see that the month is almost over and I have not written anything.  Actually, this is a good sign.  I tend to write either when I am unhappy, or when I have some sort of news, and neither has actually been the case.

Choir season has started and I can really see my new technique in action.  We are singing a Handel piece for Reformation Sunday and I really hope that I can get to sing the soprano part, as I can sing it really well (I don't know if that would have been the case even two years ago). It only goes up to a G and it moves around.  On the other hand, there is a top alto part that may be underpowered (or maybe not - it doesn't go very high so they should be able to pull some of the seconds).  I will sing it if asked, but would rather not (I am always happy to sing top alto parts that are peppered with Es and Fs but that's another story.)

Our star violinist has moved to another job at another church.  Maybe Little Miss will go with him?  I know when I heard choral singing there, the choir director's wife sang all the soprano solos, and he is still there, so probably she is so you never know.  On the  other hand, Little Miss will probably be spending less time in our neck of the woods.

I am continuing to work on Carmen.  The A flats that seemed so high a year and a half ago, that sounded great, but took so much work, are now effortless.  The B in the Sequidilla is manageable.  I usually have been vocalizing up to a high C sharp but yesterday I had trouble, probably because I had had a cold for two days.  As a result of all the toddlers at the church (this was what my doctor told me) I have started getting colds of the sort I got as a child but never as an adult: intractable stopped up nose (does not respond to the Neti pot and in fact using it is dangerous) and runny snot.  Fortunately they don't last more than two days.

I still don't have a definite date, but my voice teacher has gone back to singing tenor and wants to sing Don Jose.  I am staying on top of trying to get everything in order for this and my birthday concert.

Lastly (which comes to the title of this post), thanks to a nudge from a woman in the choir who is also a playwright, I have finished the draft of my Cinderella play.  I don't want to say too much, as it is not copyrighted, but at the end of the final scene, suddenly my protagonist just blurted out something that explains my continued involvement with the Lutheran church, which seems strange to people considering that my Unitarian blend of Christianity, Judaism, and Paganism isn't going anyplace soon.  High church Christian houses of worship have the best theater.  It's that simple.  I'm playing a role and the choir robe with the cross on it is my costume.  And what glorious music!!  Unitarians just don't know how to do that, even with a different theology as a starting point.  The women's Moon Circles that I go to are good theater, but I couldn't make them my only spiritual nourishment because there's no music, only chanting.

Well, for what it's worth, here's what Cynthia said:

You can make theater anywhere, now that I think of it.  That’s why I like singing in church services.  I am not religious .... but if you want to hear glorious music and colorful stories while sitting in a magnificent historic building, a church service is the best bargain around. And when I sing (in a choir robe, or in a black dress) as a soloist or choir member, the issue isn’t what I believe, but what the people listening believe; that I am bringing to life something profoundly moving and meaningful to them, just like being in a play or opera, only on a smaller scale, and without having to be in a decidedly un-spiritual and snarky cutthroat environment (you should hear some of my former conservatory classmates talk about other people; you wouldn’t believe it). 

I think this will stand me in good stead for a long time.  And I have made some wonderful friends.

The Heroine of My Own Blog

I have been needing to make a post for quite some time, but have been very busy with my health issues (an eye infection necessitating a trip to my ophthalmologist in Brooklyn), new glasses (see photo), my partner's health issues (taking her to the dermatologist), and work (booooring).

Of course I am still singing!

On Sunday the 23rd I sang both the "Laudamus te" from the Bach Mass in B Minor and "Domine Deus" from the Vivaldi Gloria.  Because there was no air conditioning in the church (they need a whole new unit, which is very expensive, so they have been taking bids) I was excused from singing at 9 and just sang at 11.  The "Laudamus te" went really well.  We even got applause!!  "Domine Deus" went less well; we hadn't rehearsed it enough, and at one point the violinist seemed to be fumbling for the right note, so I ended up doing that also (which I am sure no one noticed) so I didn't get enough breath for the longest phrase at the end.  I apologized afterwards to the pianist (who is also our new Director of Music Ministries) and he said there was no problem, because I had made it work.

So now there is nothing on my calendar - which means I need to fill it up!!  Tomorrow I have an appointment with my partner's caseworker at the LGBT senior services center, which is where I also sent in a request to put on my pocket version of Carmen.  When I am done with my appointment I will see if I can talk with the woman who coordinates the space usage, and see what the status of my bid is.  I will need to set a date and line up other singers (and a pianist) before the year is out, so I want to get this moving.

I have gone back to working on the "Seguidilla" (never an ideal fit for my voice) and I am solidly able to nail that B (I have been vocalizing up to a C sharp every day), but staccati are just not my thing, so I have to sing the scale legato, then take a breath, and portamento from the F sharp up to the B.  As I said, this is just not my style of singing.  My teacher and I discussed the fact that a lot of it is low, but light, like a pop song, but I have to be careful at some point to get back on task with my low larynx position and strong support or I will not make it up to that B.

One disappointment is that the woman who used to produce the September 11 concerts and who helped me produce Carmen really isn't doing anything with classical singers any more.  She posted something about a series of Christmas concerts, which I said I would be interested in, and she emailed me back and said that she really only wants pop or folk singers, as well as people who will help her organize the whole process of finding venues and booking the group into them.  "Planning and organizing" (ah, yes, that was a category on the 100s of performance evaluations I administered when I was working, as well as on my own) is something too tied in with what I did for a living for me to ever want to do it on a volunteer basis, other than as the sole mechanism that enables me to sing anywhere, which I resent, but that's a waste of energy.

I suppose the last thing (and no doubt what prompted me to decide to write) is that I see that Little Miss's performance with The Opera Company That Said I Was Not A Future Investment has been reviewed by a well respected opera blogger.  It was not reviewed in the TIMES (although another opera in that series was, probably because it was something new and different), but this blogger has a wide readership and he gave her the highest praise for her singing and acting.

As it is unlikely that I will ever even be noticed by anyone of that ilk, I have to content myself, as did David Copperfield, by being the "Heroine of My Own Story" here in this blog.

Thoughts on Making Lemonade

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

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

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

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

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

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

On a more positive note.

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

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

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

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

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

Young Venus

I am loathe to post anything negative on my birthday, on the other hand, when better than the actual day of my 65th birthday to call out yet another egregious instance of ageism in opera.

When I get the Times in the morning, naturally the first thing I read is the arts section, and today the first thing I read was this.

Yes, it's wonderful that someone had the ambition, imagination, and vision to mount a Wagner opera on a shoestring, with an orchestra no less.  And if this person was a 25-year-old conducting student, bravo!  I was just about waking up, putting down my last glass of bourbon, and rubbing my eyes at that age.

But why in Heaven's name do the singers in this production have to be young???  Does Wagner have to be hijacked by YAPPers too?  OK, so most of these no pay opera companies (the ones that rejected me out of hand for the most part) want to use young singers, so they produce things like The Marriage of Figaro or La Boheme, occasionally making a foray into heavier operas with large female casts (you always get more women than men interested in these things) like Suor Angelica or Dialogue of the Carmelites, using, by choice a heavily made up 30something in roles like La Zia Principessa or the Old Prioress.  But Wagner???  Yes, there is an outlet for older people to sing Wagner, I know.  The pay to sing that my teacher is involved in does concert productions of Wagner and Strauss (as well as other things) and many of their stalwarts are singers in their 50s (and some of the men, like my teacher, are in their 60s) who have been singing for decades and have moved into this repertoire slowly.

But how about something new and exciting for older singers who may be new and exciting?  Reading the article the word "young" was used 8 times; 6 times to describe the singers they wanted to use and gear this new company toward, once to describe the tenor singing the role of Tannhauser, and once as a synonym for "new" as in "young opera companies".  Their source of singers to cast this Tannhauser with?  YAP tracker.

This made me really really really angry.  Yes, I am way too old to play Rosina (nor would I want to).  But I am not too old to play Venus!!  I even have a usable B natural now.   And it doesn't matter if I have physical challenges.  All she does is lie on a couch. Marjorie Lawrence played Venus after she had polio for Pete's sake.

I am not saying that I am such a stellar package that I would have been cast in a role by that company.  But I would like to have known about it!!

An Old Resentment

After my meltdown in February (posting something on Facebook about how angry I was at the choir director, although I did not say who, what, where, so I have no idea how he knew it was about him) I have tried to chill out about feeling resentful over all the attention that "Little Miss" gets.  I think that however tactless and tacky I was (and I apologized and deleted the post), it did some good because after that compliments and attention were distributed a little more equitably.  I got a coveted solo spot on Good Friday and he gave me a lot of compliments for it.  And I noticed after that he has backed off complaining that if, when I warm up to a high A it is L.O.U.D. that the note is "not in my range".

Of course if I paused to think about it, yes, it rankles that Little Miss is doing an "internship" with the very opera company that rejected me for not being a future investment (I mean I might not have gotten a role anyhow but not getting one role is different from being written off out of hand for what I consider to be an unacceptable reason).  And this is one of the most well respected small no-pay opera companies in the city now.

Anyhow, yesterday we got an email from the choir director forwarding an announcement she sent him about the performance.  One of the things that has really ranked over the past year or so is that he never ever forwarded any emails I sent him about performances I was doing.  It's like he didn't want his imprimatur on anything I did.  He has always been nice about "letting" me hand out flyers during rehearsal and I think the reason a surprisingly large number of people from the choir came to my May concert was because one of the other women in the choir handed out my flyers the day before the concert (when I wasn't there).  To protect against any hard feelings if the wrong people read this, this whole thing may be a coincidence (his "flogging" her performances and not mine), but I don't think so. (Or it may be an unconscious choice.)

Anyhow, the fact that the performance is at that opera company just rubs salt in the wound.  Needless to say I am not going, for a variety of reasons.

After being rejected by all the no pay opera groups in the city, and by some who wanted me to pay them (except two: in one instance I decided I did not want to pay and in the other I paid, to sing a tiny role, and was treated so badly I walked out and let them keep the money as a tax-deductible contribution), I have cut that world off.  I don't attend those performances.  I don't even go to the Met, despite its being around the corner.  If I want "entertainment", I will go to the ballet or a Broadway musical or a play.  If I want to hear "the greats" sing an aria or scene that I am working on, I can look at Youtube.  I don't think watching/listening to people doing something I would just about cut off my right hand to do, but will never get asked, is a way to have a happier life or to sing better, either.  I'm done with that.

So what I need to focus on is: my teacher was thrilled with how the two church solos sound (very different from a few years ago) and now it's just about time I should be hearing from the woman who produces the September 11 concert.  Or if not that maybe this year she will do something for Hispanic Heritage month.  And then there's the social service agency that I contacted about Carmen.  It's getting to be just about time to send a follow-up email.  Oh, and my teacher said "Don't forget about Amneris!  When you don't have something on your calendar to work on, go back to those scenes."  The thrilling thing is he said that; I didn't.

On Ageism

Over a year ago, I wrote a post on Sexism. So as I am now less than a week away from my 65th birthday, a post on ageism is way overdue.

For whatever reason, ageism has stung me in ways that no other "isms" ever did.

Sexism, to me, anyhow, can be taken to be in the eye of the beholder. Other than laws preventing women, for example, from voting or practicing medicine or law, a lot is subjective.  Yes, I'm glad we have a lot of women doctors (I usually prefer them) but is life better now that there are practically no full-time "homemakers" to take care of not only children and elderly parents but also distressed or homebound neighbors? And maybe life was sweeter and more humane when for women, at least, there was still the option, married or not, to be unambitious.

Then there was homophobia.  I never looked gay, so I never encountered it in public places.  Much as I clung to my older (and butch-dressing) partner, people were mind-bogglingly clueless as to the fact that we were a couple.  And regarding those who knew (many of whom were not only embarrassed, but embarrassed that they were embarrassed), hey, it was fun knowing that people thought you were a bit louche.

But ageism has smarted and stung (and often come as a surprise).  My first encounter with it was when I was in my mid 40s, finally feeling my oats as someone mature enough to be a good boss, and was told that I had been turned down for a management position because I was too "stuffy".  Mmmm, isn't being a bit "stuffy" part of being a boss?  (And this had nothing to do with technology, which wasn't yet around then.  And I'm the last person in the world that most people would consider "stuffy"...it was only a corporate persona I had adopted).

Then there's the feeling of being ignored.  Women who refer to "catcalling" as a universal scourge have no idea that the statute of limitations runs out when you're about 45, not matter how great a body you have.  For example, I wore this

one day when it was close to 100 degrees, here, there, and yonder all over the city and no one gave me a second look.

And of course no one thinks you have any sort of a future.  As I've written before in these "pages", the most hurtful rejection I got after an audition had nothing to do with my singing, my acting, or even that I looked to old for the part (it was La Zia Principessa in Suor Angelica), but rather to the fact that I was "not a future investment".  That was about 7 years ago and I sing 200 times better now  OK, I probably am no longer mobile enough to do certain kinds of staging, but I can sing a concert opera from a book, and in a fully staged production of Suor Angelica the Principessa often has a cane!

Worst of all are the jokes.  People who would never make sweeping generalizations about racial, ethnic, or sexual identity groups in polite company (or in a public post on Facebook) think it's perfectly OK to do this about "old people".  Yesterday I was outraged by a woman (probably in her 30s) who not only said she hated the condescending tone that "old people" use, but, when I tried to make a teachable moment by commenting that condescending is an attitude not an age, she got herself into deeper and deeper doo doo by explaining why old people are condescending.  Then she said "well not all of them, but everyone I know who's condescending is old".  Can you imagine the uproar there would have been if instead of "old" she had written "black" or "Jewish" and instead of "condescending" she had used some other generic put-down?? And thinking she was getting herself out of the doo doo by saying "not all old people are like that????" (Again, think of a substitution, and read it back to yourself.)

Maybe I am not aging gracefully.  I don't mind having some orthopedic problems (unless it's snowing), and I am ecstatic that I no longer have to throw myself into the ratrace of hateful, stressful, boring jobs to pay my bills and have health insurance.  And I know I'm still hot, even if you think (out of deference?) you have to know me in person to say so.

But I haven't had my moment yet.  I'm still waiting for it.  I have a lot of growing and learning to do.  I'm not yet ready to pass the baton on to the 20somethings fresh out of music school (which I never went to) and kvell over them in a motherly way.  Hey!!!  I still see them as my competition!!

I don't mean something tacky and silly like "I'm young at heart".  There's nothing that makes me squirm as much as women (it's usually women) over a certain age in tv commercials being "cute" about how young they feel,  hoping to elicit the same response that children get.  I'm so not like that.  I'm  not "cute"; I'm a serious woman and a serious artist who can still raise the temperature in a room by playing Dalila.

What's Next

I haven't written anything lately because not much is happening.

My vocal progress continues to solidify.  Like someone who's lost weight or gained muscle tone, I now have a totally new voice: about a minor third higher and 20 pounds lighter, but in no way smaller.  So this is really me.

I have not had much on the calendar.  On August 23 I will be singing both the "Laudamus te" from the Bach B Minor Mass and "Domine Deus" from the Vivaldi Gloria in both church services.  I feel liberated now with the new music director (the original choir director still leads the choir but the new director schedules solos) because I think he has a better understanding of how my voice sounds at its best.  Pianissimi are lovely, and I would love to be able to master singing them above a high A flat (now that I have those extra notes, I might as well play with them) but they are not for everything, and a big voice has its own splendor that goes way beyond that anathema of church music - singing loud.  Anyhow, this will be a big sing, albeit in a comfortable range, so I will need to stay quiet for part of Saturday which is usually my eldercare day.  It seems that fewer people are volunteering to sing stand alone solos because, for example, when I was at church last Sunday (to see friends visiting from Jerusalem) there was no vocal music at all.  The "Domine Deus" feels easier now that I am singing it with my real voice.

I also heard again from the filmmaker who wants me to sing the Bach aria in her film.  She can't afford to pay the accompanist until her grant money comes through, but things are moving ahead with the film, so I may do the recording in the Fall.  This was another pleasant surprise: the piece (despite my having had it transposed down - it is normally sung by high light sopranos like Natalie Dessay) is still in a high-ish tessitura (similar to that of Giovanna Seymour) and I used to struggle with it, enough so that I had planned to only record the "A" section once and dupe it for the reprise.  Now I am sure I can sing the piece all the way through and it felt quite comfortable.

In a funny way my voice feels like a sink that had been bunged up and now that obstruction is gone.  I referred to this as a "gag reflex".  I don't really know what else to call it.  It would kick in if I started to get tired or was singing in a high tessitura or tried to sing at all above a high A natural.  My teacher had said that the reason for all this is that cartilage and small muscles in the throat and palate are not flexible in older people and it takes much longer to train them.

I was also fishing around for something to sing at the September 11 concert if the woman who runs it will be having it again.  Any time she talks about vocal technique I want to scream (no pun intended) because she has no idea how big voices work, and her suggestions are much more counter-productive than those of the choir director, who at least only tells me to sing softly, not to sing sour spread vowels (in fact he always tells the less trained singers to make more space and darken their vowels).  But I like that she provides opportunities for people to sing and she is extremely knowledgeable about various matters of style.  Anyhow, previously I had never wanted to brave singing an aria in one of those concerts, but this time I thought I would take a look at Fenena's two page aria from Nabucco which is deceptively simple, but then has that deadly octave jump up to a high A, which is, if not pianissimo, at least supposed to sound smooth and lovely.  Well, that was 200% easier to sing than it was three years ago when I recorded it, also.  So maybe I will offer that, or Laura's aria, which I could sing in my sleep, and it is short.

So that's about it.  Nothing much else ever really happens.  I can't afford to go anywhere and can't leave my SO alone anyhow.  In 12 months I will be able to collect Social Security on top of what I make working part time, so maybe we can try to go to Maine again.