All in all, today's concert went well. The Bolena duet went very well, and that is what I always worry about because it's in a high tessitura and requires a lot of stamina. I thought I used too much chest in the Gioconda duet but when I asked my teacher (and his wife) they said no. I also thought "Mon Coeur" sounded (or felt) labored but it probably didn't sound that way to the audience. I may work on both those early this week. Normally in my practice sessions I have only been singing the Bolena.
The only critical feedback I got from my teacher was he said sometimes I was singing too softly. This again was a room with a low ceiling, which can muffle the sound.
There was a small kerfuffle when we got there because apparently the space had been double booked (with a pianist and two singers, who were doing Mozart) but we were able to work things out by having them use the salon room upstairs. That is a lovely room, just not as large as the room where I was singing.
Also, a few people told me I shouldn't sing "Home Sweet Home" to end nursing home concerts because the people may feel sad that they are not "home". In the past, this thought briefly crossed my mind, but I never really thought about it again because no one has ever seemed upset when I've sung that. I talked about it with my teacher and he said maybe in the future (not for the concert in two weeks, because we have that all mapped out and are not doing additional rehearsals) we can sing "When You Walk Through a Storm" as a duet.
And a woman I used to work with came and brought me flowers. I so love getting flowers and people rarely think of it. She also said she might see about having me sing at a nursing home in Queens where her mother was. I said that would be good in May or June.
Saturday, October 6, 2018
Wednesday, October 3, 2018
The Bitter and the Sweet (Fall 2018 Edition)
I guess life is "the bitter and the sweet", hence my repeated use of this post title.
First the bitter (because I'm writing about events in chronological order).
Sunday afternoon I went to an anniversary service for my church's former pastor (the tall, drop dead gorgeous blonde) at her new church, and guess who was singing? Little Miss. I was in shock. I had expected maybe a soloist from my pastor's new church, or their choir, but no, there was Little Miss and her violinist boyfriend (whom I always had a great relationship with; he used to accompany me for solos with violin, like the Bach "Laudamus te").
I guess Pastor had invited them. And I suppose one reason was that she got a "twofer".
In all honesty, I can't say that I was upset that she didn't ask me, why should she.
I think I was upset because Little Miss represents everything I wish I'd had, wish I had, wish I'd done, and wish I'd been (or still was). First of all she's young and on an upward trajectory. She has been performing (not singing classical music, but singing) since she was in middle school. She's been disciplined, admired, curated, what you will, since then. Of course she put in the work. I will never say she got something for nothing. But it's often a feedback loop. You do well, people encourage you, you do better. You make friends and colleagues among those who do what you do, and that follows you into the future.
Now if you were to ask me if I think Little Miss will have a brilliant career and the world's greatest opera houses, I will probably say no. She is a generic lyric soprano. Where she is unusual, is/was in exhibiting such technical vocal perfection at such a young age. She sang the soprano solo in the Brahms Requiem five years ago, at the age of 20, in a totally flawless way, just sitting in a choir chair in a pair of jeans and tossing it off. She belts, she acts, she sings musical theater, she sings contemporary music. Probably if the New York City Opera were like it had been in the 60s, she could probably land a spot there. She has a "feel" for new music and opera in English that's a little bit like musical theater. And of course she has mentors. A famous voice teacher from a famous conservatory, a CV containing master classes and summer programs, and her boyfriend, who was a child prodigy with his own Wikipedia page and who has his finger in every possible kind of musical and theatrical pie.
Now I need to add here, as I have said before, that Little Miss is neither conceited nor Prima Donna-ish. She just is. She excels, she enjoys it, people gush, and she enjoys that, in a sort of innocent childlike way.
At the celebration on Sunday when I went to the party afterwards to give my regards to Pastor, I ran into Boyfriend and we chatted and then he mentioned that Little Miss was there and wanted to say "hello". So I did. I'm sure she was genuinely happy to see me.
So I ended up in a funk for the next day. There aren't enough hours in the day for me to give myself the kind of polish you get in a conservatory when you spend 8 years there and don't have anything else to worry about.
So on to the next thing. The Sweet. We had our last rehearsal for our recital and it went well. Really the only difficult thing I have to sing is the Bolena duet and it is going well. Not to jinx myself, but these days I seem to be able to confidently hold onto a high A for 8 counts without choking or panicking as easily as I used to be able to hold onto an F.
And when I was on my way to rehearsal yesterday, I got an email from a woman from another senior residence about doing a 30 minute demo recital. I had contacted her a while ago about doing a concert of some kind and she said she was a bit leery because the last time she had elicited feedback from the residents they had told her that they wanted more "nonclassical" music. So she said a compromise would be that I would do a half hour demo recital and she would ask for feedback. So I can have fun deciding what to sing (and I will ask my teacher if he wants to join me).
And I will order an anthology of songs by Alma Mahler. Monday night I went to the monthly free chamber music concert at my church (they bring in up and comings; sadly, nothing for the homegrown talent) and a woman sang two songs by Alma Mahler. The choir director (who runs this program) said I should look into singing some of them. I told him I had bought a book of songs by Fanny Mendelssohn but had not sung any of them; I said I couldn't find anything suitable for church. Well, maybe now with the Mahler, the Mendelssohn, and the anthology I bought of spirituals/art songs by Florence Price I can put together a recital of songs by women composers. Or maybe just add a set to my nursing home recital program. If I want to do a whole program of songs by women I would have to find an appropriate venue and nothing comes to mind.
First the bitter (because I'm writing about events in chronological order).
Sunday afternoon I went to an anniversary service for my church's former pastor (the tall, drop dead gorgeous blonde) at her new church, and guess who was singing? Little Miss. I was in shock. I had expected maybe a soloist from my pastor's new church, or their choir, but no, there was Little Miss and her violinist boyfriend (whom I always had a great relationship with; he used to accompany me for solos with violin, like the Bach "Laudamus te").
I guess Pastor had invited them. And I suppose one reason was that she got a "twofer".
In all honesty, I can't say that I was upset that she didn't ask me, why should she.
I think I was upset because Little Miss represents everything I wish I'd had, wish I had, wish I'd done, and wish I'd been (or still was). First of all she's young and on an upward trajectory. She has been performing (not singing classical music, but singing) since she was in middle school. She's been disciplined, admired, curated, what you will, since then. Of course she put in the work. I will never say she got something for nothing. But it's often a feedback loop. You do well, people encourage you, you do better. You make friends and colleagues among those who do what you do, and that follows you into the future.
Now if you were to ask me if I think Little Miss will have a brilliant career and the world's greatest opera houses, I will probably say no. She is a generic lyric soprano. Where she is unusual, is/was in exhibiting such technical vocal perfection at such a young age. She sang the soprano solo in the Brahms Requiem five years ago, at the age of 20, in a totally flawless way, just sitting in a choir chair in a pair of jeans and tossing it off. She belts, she acts, she sings musical theater, she sings contemporary music. Probably if the New York City Opera were like it had been in the 60s, she could probably land a spot there. She has a "feel" for new music and opera in English that's a little bit like musical theater. And of course she has mentors. A famous voice teacher from a famous conservatory, a CV containing master classes and summer programs, and her boyfriend, who was a child prodigy with his own Wikipedia page and who has his finger in every possible kind of musical and theatrical pie.
Now I need to add here, as I have said before, that Little Miss is neither conceited nor Prima Donna-ish. She just is. She excels, she enjoys it, people gush, and she enjoys that, in a sort of innocent childlike way.
At the celebration on Sunday when I went to the party afterwards to give my regards to Pastor, I ran into Boyfriend and we chatted and then he mentioned that Little Miss was there and wanted to say "hello". So I did. I'm sure she was genuinely happy to see me.
So I ended up in a funk for the next day. There aren't enough hours in the day for me to give myself the kind of polish you get in a conservatory when you spend 8 years there and don't have anything else to worry about.
So on to the next thing. The Sweet. We had our last rehearsal for our recital and it went well. Really the only difficult thing I have to sing is the Bolena duet and it is going well. Not to jinx myself, but these days I seem to be able to confidently hold onto a high A for 8 counts without choking or panicking as easily as I used to be able to hold onto an F.
And when I was on my way to rehearsal yesterday, I got an email from a woman from another senior residence about doing a 30 minute demo recital. I had contacted her a while ago about doing a concert of some kind and she said she was a bit leery because the last time she had elicited feedback from the residents they had told her that they wanted more "nonclassical" music. So she said a compromise would be that I would do a half hour demo recital and she would ask for feedback. So I can have fun deciding what to sing (and I will ask my teacher if he wants to join me).
And I will order an anthology of songs by Alma Mahler. Monday night I went to the monthly free chamber music concert at my church (they bring in up and comings; sadly, nothing for the homegrown talent) and a woman sang two songs by Alma Mahler. The choir director (who runs this program) said I should look into singing some of them. I told him I had bought a book of songs by Fanny Mendelssohn but had not sung any of them; I said I couldn't find anything suitable for church. Well, maybe now with the Mahler, the Mendelssohn, and the anthology I bought of spirituals/art songs by Florence Price I can put together a recital of songs by women composers. Or maybe just add a set to my nursing home recital program. If I want to do a whole program of songs by women I would have to find an appropriate venue and nothing comes to mind.
Sunday, September 30, 2018
The Pursuit of Excellence
At first glance this post will seem to diverge from the topic of the day, but there is a connection. As a late-starting classical singer who, no matter how hard I work, no matter how well I now sing, will never ever be as polished as someone who spent 8 years at a conservatory as a vocal performance major, this article really hit home. I am probably not what he means by a true amateur or a hobbyist. I sing well, well enough to give solo recitals, sometimes with other people, at nursing homes and senior centers, and to sing featured solos at church services, but anyone who has spent years at a conservatory and who mingles in those circles, can tell that I am not the real deal. I still have rough spots in my singing technique (far fewer with each passing year, and I am 68 now), I am not 100% musically literate, my language pronunciation is not always perfect, and I often look awkward on stage (not very awkward; I am good at connecting with audiences, but I am unsure how to enter and exit, bow, and keep my arms still if I think doing this or that will help my singing).
The author wrote "Especially when it comes to physical pursuits, but also with many other endeavors, most of us will be truly excellent only at whatever we started doing in our teens." Which is what I have been saying all along.
What is so sad, is that, with performing arts at least (I think sports are different, maybe) there is no place for people like me. There are all sorts of choruses, but no performance groups that are simply for older avocational performers who may need a little polishing. Or if there were one, it would, like all the "amateur" opera groups, be overrun with out of work professionals and young people looking to get a leg up. So what I'm saying is there are not performance groups for people like me that have a way of keeping certain types of people out.
And then there's the vitriol. Which is one reason I have stopped participating in singer discussion groups. I find my blood pressure is a lot lower if I stick to groups that talk about pets, British tv, and literature. If I want to know about singing I can talk to my voice teacher, my choir directors, or my accompanists. Until I made contact with these groups I had no idea that by referring to myself as an "opera singer" (well yes, that's what I've trained to sing and that is the kind of music I do sing even if it's just in a nursing home) I was besmirching an art form, leading the public astray, and doing damage to OPERA as a cause to be promoted. I actually find that hard to believe. If anything could turn people off opera as an art form it's the mud-slinging these people get involved in, with each other and at people they deem "their inferiors".
To the second part of this post, it seems that it doesn't link up with the horrors of this week, but in a way it does. I read an article in the Times a few days ago that spoke of the world that Kavanaugh and Blasey Ford grew up in: unrealistically high expectations, high achievement, and escaping from the pressure with drunken debauchery.
Some of that was familiar territory to me, some not. My father was a professor and most of my parent's friends were doctors, academics, and school principals. Their sons were expected to be doctors. Their daughters were expected to be what I call "Jane Austen" girls. Do well in school, be smart, but not smarter than the boys, and stick to the arts: literature, painting, playing a musical instrument, singing a little, taking some ballet classes. Get into a good college so that you can meet the right kind of husband. My generation rebelled, but differently. First and foremost we rebelled by rejecting achievement. Turn on, tune in, and drop out. And for many of us, we stayed "dropped out" long after we discontinued drug or alcohol abuse.
The parties described by Blasey Ford and others, though, are quite different from the ones I attended (and I was a little older). Yes, alcohol flowed freely, drugs were readily available, and there was lots of meaningless casual sex, but nothing was ever violent. Was that because we were the "free love" generation? The men who were there were ones who had found a way to avoid going to Vietnam, who hated war, who, yes, wanted lots of women to be available and didn't want to be tied down, but I don't remember anyone forcing himself on me or anyone else. We were all in it together. Looking back I would call it "quasi-consensual" sex. Things I and other women wouldn't have done it we'd been sober, but I don't remember anyone assaulting or pursuing me if I said "NO", which of course I was more likely to do if I was sober. Love was free then.
Not long after that I became a Lesbian Separatist and we encouraged each other to observe the "Pence rule" if we had to venture beyond the bounds of our sect (mainly this meant at work). Don't consume alcohol at mixed parties (many of us were twelve steppers anyhow). Don't go for a meal alone with a man. Dress modestly. If you work in an office with straight men and it's too conservative for pants suits, make sure your skirt comes below your knees. Don't smile excessively. Be businesslike and matter of fact. Apparently that (and the fact that I worked in an industry that was predominately female) stood me in good stead.
If I am bitter about anything from those days, it is not that I got myself into sleazy situations when I had had too much to drink (or more) but all the waste. Time and energy I could have spent on my talent. Yes, "Especially when it comes to physical pursuits, but also with many other endeavors, most of us will be truly excellent only at whatever we started doing in our teens." Those people must have been around in 1968 or in 1971. Why didn't I take my cue from them?
The author wrote "Especially when it comes to physical pursuits, but also with many other endeavors, most of us will be truly excellent only at whatever we started doing in our teens." Which is what I have been saying all along.
What is so sad, is that, with performing arts at least (I think sports are different, maybe) there is no place for people like me. There are all sorts of choruses, but no performance groups that are simply for older avocational performers who may need a little polishing. Or if there were one, it would, like all the "amateur" opera groups, be overrun with out of work professionals and young people looking to get a leg up. So what I'm saying is there are not performance groups for people like me that have a way of keeping certain types of people out.
And then there's the vitriol. Which is one reason I have stopped participating in singer discussion groups. I find my blood pressure is a lot lower if I stick to groups that talk about pets, British tv, and literature. If I want to know about singing I can talk to my voice teacher, my choir directors, or my accompanists. Until I made contact with these groups I had no idea that by referring to myself as an "opera singer" (well yes, that's what I've trained to sing and that is the kind of music I do sing even if it's just in a nursing home) I was besmirching an art form, leading the public astray, and doing damage to OPERA as a cause to be promoted. I actually find that hard to believe. If anything could turn people off opera as an art form it's the mud-slinging these people get involved in, with each other and at people they deem "their inferiors".
To the second part of this post, it seems that it doesn't link up with the horrors of this week, but in a way it does. I read an article in the Times a few days ago that spoke of the world that Kavanaugh and Blasey Ford grew up in: unrealistically high expectations, high achievement, and escaping from the pressure with drunken debauchery.
Some of that was familiar territory to me, some not. My father was a professor and most of my parent's friends were doctors, academics, and school principals. Their sons were expected to be doctors. Their daughters were expected to be what I call "Jane Austen" girls. Do well in school, be smart, but not smarter than the boys, and stick to the arts: literature, painting, playing a musical instrument, singing a little, taking some ballet classes. Get into a good college so that you can meet the right kind of husband. My generation rebelled, but differently. First and foremost we rebelled by rejecting achievement. Turn on, tune in, and drop out. And for many of us, we stayed "dropped out" long after we discontinued drug or alcohol abuse.
The parties described by Blasey Ford and others, though, are quite different from the ones I attended (and I was a little older). Yes, alcohol flowed freely, drugs were readily available, and there was lots of meaningless casual sex, but nothing was ever violent. Was that because we were the "free love" generation? The men who were there were ones who had found a way to avoid going to Vietnam, who hated war, who, yes, wanted lots of women to be available and didn't want to be tied down, but I don't remember anyone forcing himself on me or anyone else. We were all in it together. Looking back I would call it "quasi-consensual" sex. Things I and other women wouldn't have done it we'd been sober, but I don't remember anyone assaulting or pursuing me if I said "NO", which of course I was more likely to do if I was sober. Love was free then.
Not long after that I became a Lesbian Separatist and we encouraged each other to observe the "Pence rule" if we had to venture beyond the bounds of our sect (mainly this meant at work). Don't consume alcohol at mixed parties (many of us were twelve steppers anyhow). Don't go for a meal alone with a man. Dress modestly. If you work in an office with straight men and it's too conservative for pants suits, make sure your skirt comes below your knees. Don't smile excessively. Be businesslike and matter of fact. Apparently that (and the fact that I worked in an industry that was predominately female) stood me in good stead.
If I am bitter about anything from those days, it is not that I got myself into sleazy situations when I had had too much to drink (or more) but all the waste. Time and energy I could have spent on my talent. Yes, "Especially when it comes to physical pursuits, but also with many other endeavors, most of us will be truly excellent only at whatever we started doing in our teens." Those people must have been around in 1968 or in 1971. Why didn't I take my cue from them?
Friday, September 14, 2018
Maturity and Serenity
Last week at our first choir rehearsal of the year, with no notice, we were told that we were going to be singing the Randall Thompson "Alleluia" for the first Sunday we were back. So ok. I have sung that before. The last time I (around 6 years ago) I could see how my technique had improved since the first time we sang it (10 years ago - at the choir director's wedding), and now it has improved even more. The progression with the pianissimo High A is not difficult, and as for the "stringendo" section (with two high As) I can handle that if I "tacet" for a few bars right before the progression going up to the A. This is, of course, something that singers customarily do in Bel Canto aria endings, so I am not apologizing for it.
Of course having that piece of music "sprung" on me was annoying. I needed to map it out and sing it into my voice at least once.
I also felt very guilty not singing the alto part because there seem to be fewer and fewer altos these days. It makes sense because most alto parts are pretty thankless to sing even if you are a mezzo. Actually the Alleluia is one of the exceptions. It sits in the middle of the staff, mostly, with a few low notes here and there. But again, the soprano part is not high overall. It has a very wide range, that's all, certainly no wider than the average bel canto aria I would be singing. The only problem is there is a section that goes on with no break, which would be unlikely to happen in an aria.
Yesterday when I got to rehearsal the choir director asked me if I was sure I wanted to sing the soprano part and I said yes. If he had told me to sing the alto part (which I don't know) I would of course have done it. He just said he didn't want me to feel uncomfortable trying to blend, and I said I didn't. I said my voice had gotten higher, certainly in the past few years. Actually what has happened is that I have extended my range by two notes on the top and the bottom but my "sweet spot" has probably moved up at least two whole notes. I asked the choir director didn't he notice that my voice had gotten higher and he said well, he did notice I had more control on notes like E, F, and G, which of course is true. Then I showed him the spot I had marked as "tacet". I also asked him if the dramatic soprano who has recently joined the church would be singing and he said no. I told him any time she is singing of course I will sing alto because it would make no sense to have two big voices on the same part. The altos all have small voices although three of them have voices that are very "pretty". And (this was both sweet and workmanlike) the choir director had marked his copy of the stringendo section with the note "strenuous for the sopranos; don't overrehearse!" which I told him I loved.
The reason for this post, though, is that I can now see how much more confidence I have, not just vocally, but conversationally. I no longer feel defensive. Part of that is that a number of the "sour notes" are no longer in the mix. There was the other mezzo who sang soprano who was very grumpy and disagreeable and was always trying to boss me around (she has since given up singing for another career and actually complimented me on Good Friday on my solo). There was the minister's wife (they have since retired and moved) with a small high voice who was always complaining to me and the choir director that I was singing too loud. And of course Little Miss is gone. If you are a new reader, Little Miss was a 20something conservatory student (she has since graduated and is an adjunct professor at a small college) who sang flawlessly, even at 20, and got endless praise and endless solo bits embedded in choir pieces, not to mention endless flogging of her various recitals by the choir director. It was because of all that that I had a meltdown about 5 years ago, which was not my finest hour; on the other hand after that the choir director really changed his behavior and there has been no one since who has elicited that kind of oohing and ahing either from him or anyone else. The new dramatic soprano is quite modest as is the one other trained lyric soprano who occasionally joins us.
So we will see what Sunday will bring. I have a vocal strategy, so I won't be felled by nerves. I will go home early Saturday, not talk much (not hard to do; when I am with my partner I grocery shop and we watch tv), go to bed early (I seem to be asleep before 11 these days no matter what), wake up and eat a good breakfast, bring a protein bar (if my energy flags after the morning rehearsal) and keep pretty much stumm during the service until it's time for the anthem. The piece builds, so the piece itself can be my warmup.
Of course having that piece of music "sprung" on me was annoying. I needed to map it out and sing it into my voice at least once.
I also felt very guilty not singing the alto part because there seem to be fewer and fewer altos these days. It makes sense because most alto parts are pretty thankless to sing even if you are a mezzo. Actually the Alleluia is one of the exceptions. It sits in the middle of the staff, mostly, with a few low notes here and there. But again, the soprano part is not high overall. It has a very wide range, that's all, certainly no wider than the average bel canto aria I would be singing. The only problem is there is a section that goes on with no break, which would be unlikely to happen in an aria.
Yesterday when I got to rehearsal the choir director asked me if I was sure I wanted to sing the soprano part and I said yes. If he had told me to sing the alto part (which I don't know) I would of course have done it. He just said he didn't want me to feel uncomfortable trying to blend, and I said I didn't. I said my voice had gotten higher, certainly in the past few years. Actually what has happened is that I have extended my range by two notes on the top and the bottom but my "sweet spot" has probably moved up at least two whole notes. I asked the choir director didn't he notice that my voice had gotten higher and he said well, he did notice I had more control on notes like E, F, and G, which of course is true. Then I showed him the spot I had marked as "tacet". I also asked him if the dramatic soprano who has recently joined the church would be singing and he said no. I told him any time she is singing of course I will sing alto because it would make no sense to have two big voices on the same part. The altos all have small voices although three of them have voices that are very "pretty". And (this was both sweet and workmanlike) the choir director had marked his copy of the stringendo section with the note "strenuous for the sopranos; don't overrehearse!" which I told him I loved.
The reason for this post, though, is that I can now see how much more confidence I have, not just vocally, but conversationally. I no longer feel defensive. Part of that is that a number of the "sour notes" are no longer in the mix. There was the other mezzo who sang soprano who was very grumpy and disagreeable and was always trying to boss me around (she has since given up singing for another career and actually complimented me on Good Friday on my solo). There was the minister's wife (they have since retired and moved) with a small high voice who was always complaining to me and the choir director that I was singing too loud. And of course Little Miss is gone. If you are a new reader, Little Miss was a 20something conservatory student (she has since graduated and is an adjunct professor at a small college) who sang flawlessly, even at 20, and got endless praise and endless solo bits embedded in choir pieces, not to mention endless flogging of her various recitals by the choir director. It was because of all that that I had a meltdown about 5 years ago, which was not my finest hour; on the other hand after that the choir director really changed his behavior and there has been no one since who has elicited that kind of oohing and ahing either from him or anyone else. The new dramatic soprano is quite modest as is the one other trained lyric soprano who occasionally joins us.
So we will see what Sunday will bring. I have a vocal strategy, so I won't be felled by nerves. I will go home early Saturday, not talk much (not hard to do; when I am with my partner I grocery shop and we watch tv), go to bed early (I seem to be asleep before 11 these days no matter what), wake up and eat a good breakfast, bring a protein bar (if my energy flags after the morning rehearsal) and keep pretty much stumm during the service until it's time for the anthem. The piece builds, so the piece itself can be my warmup.
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
A Family Quarrel
The older I get, the more of a loss it feels that I don't have a family. Families seem to be something that most people take for granted; sort of like arms or teeth. Some people like theirs, some don't. But most people seem to have some kind of "next of kin" who will step up to the plate, however begrudgingly, if something is needed. It might involve a cross-continental move (usually on the part of the needful - I am thinking of a friend dying of cancer who moved in with her sister in the MidWest) but someone is there.
Once my partner became non compos, one day it dawned on me that I am no longer anyone's responsibility or problem. I have no "in case of emergency please notify". I can't think of anyone who would consider it their obligation to cancel their plans because I was in the hospital with, say, a concussion. Yes, I have an attorney, a physician, a psychotherapist, and a pastor. I have friends but they are all busy (we squeeze each other in once a month for an outing).
All this is a prelude to my writing about my first cousin. I do have a first cousin, who lives in New York (Brooklyn?), has a wife, and has a son (who is probably at college or beyond now). But he cares less about me than a stranger on the street would, and I would trust him less than I would trust that stranger to make a life or death decision for me.
When I was growing up my family consisted of my parents, my mother's parents, my mother's sister (my aunt), her husband, and their son (the cousin). At some point my mother and her sister had a falling out. I can't be sure over what, but it had something to do that even though my aunt and uncle published a communist-leaning magazine and went to all sorts of meetings and conferences, my uncle suddenly had developed a passion for antiques and was buying and selling them, making money hand over fist, which included bilking people by telling them that what they had was worth very little when in fact this was a lie. All he suddenly wanted to talk about was money. When he wasn't bragging about his Chippendale chairs, my aunt was on a soapbox exhorting my mother not to vote (I think she was talking about the fact that my mother was going to vote for Jimmy Carter in the 1980 election, so I would have been 30.)
After that it was downhill all the way. My mother made a decision not to have anything to do with her sister. Although there was a temporary thaw when my grandparents suddenly needed care (see my opening paragraphs). My mother handled the appointments and paperwork, her sister handled the money. The last and final quarrel they had ('Tis the final conflict LOL!) was over the fact that my aunt sold a lot of my grandparents' possessions and offered to divide up the proceeds with my mother without having asked my mother first if she wanted anything as a memento.
So this brings me to the cousin (my "next of kin" whom I will do anything to avoid listing on any form which might spell the difference between life and death for me, like a health care proxy). Why he decided to continue the quarrel on to the next generation, I have no idea. I tried to make contact a few times. When he got a big promotion. When he and his wife had a baby. No reply. About a year after this my aunt had a stroke and was put in a nursing home. My mother actually went to visit her once a week. She was appalled at how little care the family (uncle, cousin, wife) were trying to obtain for her. All they talked about was how to get her on Medicaid without losing the house. I came once and took pictures of my cousin and his family (this was back in the days of old fashioned film cameras). I sent him the pictures. I got no reply. Not shortly thereafter my mother stopped visiting her sister because there had been a two week period when she had not visited because she had been ill. Uncle never called to ask how she was.
I remember having a talk with my mother about all this (more than one talk, I am sure) about why we couldn't just have a family that hated each other but kept in touch on special occasions, like other people. She said she thought things might have been different if my cousin's wife had had any social skills, but that she did not. A friend, recently, also mentioned this. She said often women will reach out to family and try to patch up quarrels (for example the loathesome LC has stopped speaking to one of her sons but she is still on good terms with his wife). The wife did once or twice reach out to my mother, always tentatively and fearfully, according to my mother, so she might have been afraid of my mother. But why ignore me? Wasn't she curious? Any one with a rudimentary knowledge of psychology should know that a 90 year old mother and her 55 year old daughter are not one flesh!
But the family quarrel is not what prompted me to write this blog post. It's an old story. What prompted me to write was that last night, just because, I googled the name of my cousin's wife. I knew she was some sort of academic who wrote about feminism, and that she had co-authored several academic-type articles (I never read any of them). Well! It turns out that she has written four or five books (one coming out next year) on fascinating subjects ranging from criminology to the rise and fall of feminism. My cousin is a criminologist who has bounced back and forth between academia, government, and the world of foundations. He even got a George Soros grant once.
So this just again emphasizes how tiny a fish I am in a world that seems to be overwhelmingly populated by those who are much larger.
I'm good at this and I'm good at that and I sing and I write and I know about all sorts of things but I am still in the 10% of my social acquaintance, family, and childhood friends and schoolmates who has no flashy academic credentials, bylines, or serious theater or music work in my past.
I was just starting to make some headway learning how to be grateful for my little life, and now this.
What am I lacking? I have brains and various talents.
As I said not long ago, if I can't do well, I guess I have to settle for doing good.
Once my partner became non compos, one day it dawned on me that I am no longer anyone's responsibility or problem. I have no "in case of emergency please notify". I can't think of anyone who would consider it their obligation to cancel their plans because I was in the hospital with, say, a concussion. Yes, I have an attorney, a physician, a psychotherapist, and a pastor. I have friends but they are all busy (we squeeze each other in once a month for an outing).
All this is a prelude to my writing about my first cousin. I do have a first cousin, who lives in New York (Brooklyn?), has a wife, and has a son (who is probably at college or beyond now). But he cares less about me than a stranger on the street would, and I would trust him less than I would trust that stranger to make a life or death decision for me.
When I was growing up my family consisted of my parents, my mother's parents, my mother's sister (my aunt), her husband, and their son (the cousin). At some point my mother and her sister had a falling out. I can't be sure over what, but it had something to do that even though my aunt and uncle published a communist-leaning magazine and went to all sorts of meetings and conferences, my uncle suddenly had developed a passion for antiques and was buying and selling them, making money hand over fist, which included bilking people by telling them that what they had was worth very little when in fact this was a lie. All he suddenly wanted to talk about was money. When he wasn't bragging about his Chippendale chairs, my aunt was on a soapbox exhorting my mother not to vote (I think she was talking about the fact that my mother was going to vote for Jimmy Carter in the 1980 election, so I would have been 30.)
After that it was downhill all the way. My mother made a decision not to have anything to do with her sister. Although there was a temporary thaw when my grandparents suddenly needed care (see my opening paragraphs). My mother handled the appointments and paperwork, her sister handled the money. The last and final quarrel they had ('Tis the final conflict LOL!) was over the fact that my aunt sold a lot of my grandparents' possessions and offered to divide up the proceeds with my mother without having asked my mother first if she wanted anything as a memento.
So this brings me to the cousin (my "next of kin" whom I will do anything to avoid listing on any form which might spell the difference between life and death for me, like a health care proxy). Why he decided to continue the quarrel on to the next generation, I have no idea. I tried to make contact a few times. When he got a big promotion. When he and his wife had a baby. No reply. About a year after this my aunt had a stroke and was put in a nursing home. My mother actually went to visit her once a week. She was appalled at how little care the family (uncle, cousin, wife) were trying to obtain for her. All they talked about was how to get her on Medicaid without losing the house. I came once and took pictures of my cousin and his family (this was back in the days of old fashioned film cameras). I sent him the pictures. I got no reply. Not shortly thereafter my mother stopped visiting her sister because there had been a two week period when she had not visited because she had been ill. Uncle never called to ask how she was.
I remember having a talk with my mother about all this (more than one talk, I am sure) about why we couldn't just have a family that hated each other but kept in touch on special occasions, like other people. She said she thought things might have been different if my cousin's wife had had any social skills, but that she did not. A friend, recently, also mentioned this. She said often women will reach out to family and try to patch up quarrels (for example the loathesome LC has stopped speaking to one of her sons but she is still on good terms with his wife). The wife did once or twice reach out to my mother, always tentatively and fearfully, according to my mother, so she might have been afraid of my mother. But why ignore me? Wasn't she curious? Any one with a rudimentary knowledge of psychology should know that a 90 year old mother and her 55 year old daughter are not one flesh!
But the family quarrel is not what prompted me to write this blog post. It's an old story. What prompted me to write was that last night, just because, I googled the name of my cousin's wife. I knew she was some sort of academic who wrote about feminism, and that she had co-authored several academic-type articles (I never read any of them). Well! It turns out that she has written four or five books (one coming out next year) on fascinating subjects ranging from criminology to the rise and fall of feminism. My cousin is a criminologist who has bounced back and forth between academia, government, and the world of foundations. He even got a George Soros grant once.
So this just again emphasizes how tiny a fish I am in a world that seems to be overwhelmingly populated by those who are much larger.
I'm good at this and I'm good at that and I sing and I write and I know about all sorts of things but I am still in the 10% of my social acquaintance, family, and childhood friends and schoolmates who has no flashy academic credentials, bylines, or serious theater or music work in my past.
I was just starting to make some headway learning how to be grateful for my little life, and now this.
What am I lacking? I have brains and various talents.
As I said not long ago, if I can't do well, I guess I have to settle for doing good.
Friday, August 10, 2018
Plans for the Fall and Plans for the Future
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.
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.
Thursday, August 9, 2018
Maytime Take 2 and "Aging Artfully"
Last night I watched Maytime again. My sense of it was quite different from my sense of it four years ago. First, I realized how dated some of it was. The girl's young fiance makes her choose between going to New York to study voice and try to have a career, and marrying him. That wouldn't happen today, certainly not among Millennials of a certain socioeconomic class. The girl would go to New York, launch her career, then "pair off" with someone she might want to marry with the understanding that the marriage would be a partnership in which instance by instance, they negotiated whose career was more important (that year, that month). Even after children arrived.
The first time I realized that we were into new territory in that regard was when a friend's daughter (who was born in 1970, so she's more Gen X) decided to go to graduate school in a different city from where her fiance was living, which was where, eventually, they planned to settle. That would have been unheard of in my day. If you were lucky enough to "nail" a partner that you were madly in love with, everything else just sort of fell by the wayside if necessary. I was thinking, for example, of my giving up singing at 30. I mean there were a myriad factors, most notably that I wasn't really willing to put in the work to take care of my instrument (although by the end I was singing very well from a technical standpoint). But in addition to needing to earn a living and get a college degree in my off hours (getting a degree in music never occurred to me; my one exposure to music theory bored me to tears) and the fact that "political dykes" didn't "invest themselves in a patriarchal art form like opera", there was the relationship. My partner would never have countenanced my doing anything that took me away from her for extended periods. In fact, I remember one of our ugliest quarrels (during the 20 years of our time together that I recall as "happy") took place when, while I was enrolled in college, taking a course called "Women in the Law", I got a chance to go to a conference on Women in the Law (in Detroit of all places) over a weekend. She kicked and screamed and yelled and we didn't speak to each other for the days leading up to my departure. I think the thaw broke when I got back but I never did anything similar again unless it was something required by work.
And getting back to Maytime, of course no doubt today, the older teacher/mentor's attraction to his pupil and his request that she marry him (the subject comes up when she tells him how much he has done for her and asks what she can do in return) would be loosely categorized under the heading of "sexual harrassment" (and "marry" probably wouldn't have been the word used, although it might have been; he seemed more interested in "possessing" her than in a roll in the hay).
On another subject, yesterday I went to a free conference called "Aging Artfully". It was a series of lectures and panel discussions aimed at showing seniors how engaging with the arts (as a participant, not a passive viewer or listener) can keep a person young and engaged. I didn't learn much there that would help me with my quest for venues to produce concerts in, but there was much that I identified with: the need to be seen, how being "seen" makes you an artist, the need to feel safe being "seen", the need to feel grounded, the need to feel safe but that "unfamiliar" and "unsafe" are not synonyms (a big one for me), and how listening to music can calm people with dementia.
Actually, I probably learned more techniques that I can use with my partner, many of which I already use: playing music for her on Youtube, showing her paintings and photographs on my iPad, looking through her old art books.
And they addressed ageism. One man mentioned that people (including older adults!) make stupid and disparaging jokes about "getting old" and "old people" of a sort that no one (at least no civilized person who moves in the circles we move in) would make about a racial or ethnic group.
One disappointment. I saw clips of a number of senior choruses but no performance classes (free or low fee) for seniors. That is what I would be most interested in. Coaching for solo performers ending in a concert (even just for each other and our friends).
The first time I realized that we were into new territory in that regard was when a friend's daughter (who was born in 1970, so she's more Gen X) decided to go to graduate school in a different city from where her fiance was living, which was where, eventually, they planned to settle. That would have been unheard of in my day. If you were lucky enough to "nail" a partner that you were madly in love with, everything else just sort of fell by the wayside if necessary. I was thinking, for example, of my giving up singing at 30. I mean there were a myriad factors, most notably that I wasn't really willing to put in the work to take care of my instrument (although by the end I was singing very well from a technical standpoint). But in addition to needing to earn a living and get a college degree in my off hours (getting a degree in music never occurred to me; my one exposure to music theory bored me to tears) and the fact that "political dykes" didn't "invest themselves in a patriarchal art form like opera", there was the relationship. My partner would never have countenanced my doing anything that took me away from her for extended periods. In fact, I remember one of our ugliest quarrels (during the 20 years of our time together that I recall as "happy") took place when, while I was enrolled in college, taking a course called "Women in the Law", I got a chance to go to a conference on Women in the Law (in Detroit of all places) over a weekend. She kicked and screamed and yelled and we didn't speak to each other for the days leading up to my departure. I think the thaw broke when I got back but I never did anything similar again unless it was something required by work.
And getting back to Maytime, of course no doubt today, the older teacher/mentor's attraction to his pupil and his request that she marry him (the subject comes up when she tells him how much he has done for her and asks what she can do in return) would be loosely categorized under the heading of "sexual harrassment" (and "marry" probably wouldn't have been the word used, although it might have been; he seemed more interested in "possessing" her than in a roll in the hay).
On another subject, yesterday I went to a free conference called "Aging Artfully". It was a series of lectures and panel discussions aimed at showing seniors how engaging with the arts (as a participant, not a passive viewer or listener) can keep a person young and engaged. I didn't learn much there that would help me with my quest for venues to produce concerts in, but there was much that I identified with: the need to be seen, how being "seen" makes you an artist, the need to feel safe being "seen", the need to feel grounded, the need to feel safe but that "unfamiliar" and "unsafe" are not synonyms (a big one for me), and how listening to music can calm people with dementia.
Actually, I probably learned more techniques that I can use with my partner, many of which I already use: playing music for her on Youtube, showing her paintings and photographs on my iPad, looking through her old art books.
And they addressed ageism. One man mentioned that people (including older adults!) make stupid and disparaging jokes about "getting old" and "old people" of a sort that no one (at least no civilized person who moves in the circles we move in) would make about a racial or ethnic group.
One disappointment. I saw clips of a number of senior choruses but no performance classes (free or low fee) for seniors. That is what I would be most interested in. Coaching for solo performers ending in a concert (even just for each other and our friends).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)