Frivolous Friday

It is high time we had some Olivia fashion eye-candy. How's that for inspiration? Now let us all go forth and dress like young ladies, and not the cracked out hoes that have been all over my tv lately. Not that I am judging. I would never dream of doing that. :) Stolen from http://olivia-palermo.com/

Happy weekend.

Wednesday

Okay, so this sinus pressure is getting old. Not only did it make me feel like I was singing dreadfully out of tune last night (because I cannot hear myself as well), but the drippage has made my cords swell. Oh, annnnnd I can't go to yoga, because my head would literally pop off if I attempted downward dog.

Enough bitching.

I am embarking on a new and wonderful journey this fall. No, it is not switching to my long preferred fach of lyric mezzo. No, it is not sky diving. It is fantasy football.

I'm sure I will tell you all about it. You have been warned.

Tuesday

I can say with a grateful spirit, and just the slightest bit of disappointment, that the big hurricane didn't turn out to be really very big for us. It was for others, though, and I hope everyone weathered the storm okay.

The only thing that was canceled was the one thing that I didn't want to be canceled-- the recital! Now I know it was best-- I never would have been well enough to sing high cs without my head popping off from the sinus pressure. But, sighh.

Tonight, I've got another rehearsal, and I worry slightly about singing even now.

Oh well, that's why god made sinus medicine and neti pots.

Another thing god made, indirectly, of course, via, well...Amazon, is the Kindle for Android app on my phone. It is allowing me to be the voracious reader I always wanted to be but never seemed to have time. People-- you always have your phone, and can pick up that book at all the little moments in life when you are just standing there with nothing to do! I just downloaded my second book since this weekend, and it is making me feel smart and spectacular that I am on my second book in three days.

During the hurricane weekend, I watched the first half of Gone with the Wind, and tried to get Joe on board. He holds that he really does want to watch the rest, but I am not sure I believe him. After all, I suppose I am one of those strange people who kind of grew up watching old movies, so for me it is a great pleasure. Sigh, Gone with the Wind. I love it too much. And it took me way too long, sadly, to realize the irony of watching a movie of that title during a hurricane!

Friday Part 2

If I'm lucky enough to be sick at home with power, versus, sick at gigs trying to sing, versus sick at home without power, here's what I'll be making this weekend:

Bagels
They are Joe's very favorite thing in addition to, well, every other breakfast food, and I'll probably further delight him by whipping up some more veggie cream cheese.

Ricotta Gnocchi
A very big batch, so I can freeze some, because these little pillows of delight are the ultimate treat.

And, my own recipe for Chicken Rice Soup. REALLLYYYY the very best thing for a cold, and so low calorie when one is feeling like a whale. And one IS feeling like a whale. It's like adding insult to injury.

Oh, and if you have two hours and a very good attention span and an affection for Olivia de Havilland as I do, immediately watch The Heiress (1949)

Friday

I have a cold. Ugh.

I had to cancel a lesson last night, and now, I'm just worried about not sucking in all of my singing this weekend.

If the Ravens hadn't beaten the Redskins last night and there wasn't the chance of a huge hurricane forcing everything to be canceled so I could stay home and sleep, this might be a really nightmarish weekend.

There is always the chance.

Wednesdayyyyy

I'm feeling a little under the weather today. Hoping against hope that I'm not coming down with anything! I can't afford to lose the money for my weekend gigs, and a recital next week! No sick days for singers, people.

After I a particularly taxing rehearsal last night, I woke up feeling funny. So I am going to keep pounding green tea, and hope that going to yoga tonight will help me sweat it out.

On an evening when I get home from work, and have decided against practicing (because I feel sick, and oh yeah, my throat is basically dead meat from last night), I get all excited about the other things I could devote the time to. Like starting my new book club book, or doing a cooking experiment.

Joe keeps telling me I should figure out a way to pitch a cooking show about an opera singer who cooks things. I keep telling him that that is the last thing I need: another aspiration! Something else to fight for! It's okay, I say, to have things that are just things you do for fun. Then I think to myself, well, maybe I'm the one who is being silly. A lot more people cook than go to the opera.

Also, would YOU watch a cooking show with an opera singer? I think I would be suspicious that they weren't having much of a career or else they would never have time to shoot a cooking show. I don't think I would like it as much as I like Pioneer Woman's or Ina Garten. Oh I am SO excited for Pioneer Woman's new show, which is premiering this Saturday. She is the real deal, and her food is fab.

Okay, I'm off to guzzle some more tea.

Tuesday

It's almost that time of year again, guys. Choir season.

Wednesday

I think we all have an aria that haunts us. The one you pull out from time to time, and think: "If I can ever, at any point, sing this competently and with relative ease, I will know I'm amazing." It's in your fach, its something that you "should" be able to sing. It's just that it never feels quite right, and it's not something you ever feel great about when you are done singing it, for whatever reason.

My haunting aria is from a role I've actually done before. It was the sole reason I did not sleep soundly for weeks during rehearsals. It literally kept me awake at night. The tempo never settled in. The tessitura, the coloratura, the wide interval leaps never settled in, despite my practicing them for at least an hour a day. I drove Joe crazy making him rehearse it with me over and over.

Okay, people, here's the big news: I did it. Maybe it was just a fluke, but yesterday, I sang through, and it was actually GOOD, exhilarating, fun, not like slogging through the mud in rain boots. Maybe I have actually learned something after all these years. Maybe.

What's your haunting aria?

Tuesday: Part 2

I've had a lot going on in my head recently, my mind constantly racing, unable to let go of one particular situation that I'm in the middle of processing. I'm finding it hard to relax, to enjoy my precious time with Joe, to focus on anything else. In fact, the only time I stop thinking about it is when I am singing. The healing vibration of singing takes over and it is the only thing that can soothe me.

Maybe I just have ADD, but I've always prided myself on my multi-tasking abilities. I can bake a loaf of bread, load the dishwasher, cook eggs, and memorize recit at the same time. I can do laundry, make cookies, talk on the phone to a friend all at the same time. Okay, so it's not so amazing. Most of you probably do the same thing. But it's the same at work, I am ALWAYS doing more than one thing at a time. It's a skill I've cultivated, and a skill that has trained me to drive myself crazy. It's almost like I feel guilty if I am only accomplishing one thing at a time.

When I am practicing, all of that noise goes away. I am completely engrossed in what I am doing, totally in the moment of the music, thinking only about how to make my voice sound it's best. It's one of the few things I can think of that you can do during which it's nearly impossible to think about anything else.

Maybe that is why I find singing so incredibly healing. It really seems to me like a portal into a divine place of intense presence. A place where all I can focus on is the vibration and the sound and the emotion. It takes me out of myself. IT quiets the mental noise.

Like chanting and the purring of a cat, it has been suggested that the vibration literally has the power to heal us both emotionally and physically.

Since the pursuit of the opportunity to sing can drive us so completely insane, it's a good thing that singing itself has the opposite effect. Or I'd be so much more crazy than I already am.

Tuesday

You are going to cry a little when you read this. Pure love.

Monday

There's one in every family! My sister just had a bill board of one of her photos put up in TIMES SQUARE!

A talented, famous one in every family, I mean. :)

Sunday

My new attitude (see Tuesday's blog) is really working out for me! It was good to have a little reminder that singing isn't actually all about me. Can you imagine?

I am SO looking forward to this week, lots of work on music, yoga, and even the beginning of the school year isn't as scary as it usually is. To do: order Barenreiter Don Giovanni, since I get to sing Elvira again this season! I also have lots of music to learn for the High Holidays and for some upcoming concerts. I am so lucky that at some point in my early childhood, someone gave me those Mozart tapes. Now I'm addicted to this whole singing thing.

Tonight, for date night, we're going to see The Help. It was a fantastic book, and I can't wait to see how the movie measures up. And because I am cheap, we went to Walmart and bought movie candy, which I will sneak in. Don't tell anyone. :)

Friday, part the second: weekend reading

I really enjoyed reading this!

Friday

You know it's Friday because you wake up feeling like you went on a major bender the night before, and and that is because you did.

I guess because of church choir, Thursday nights became the designated night out for singers in Baltimore.

I was lucky enough to meet up with a couple friends for a super terrific happy hour, at my fave local japanese place, where I ate two three dollar appetizers and then somehow managed to run into one of the most ridiculous gay friends I have on the street. He refused to stop talking and made Ms. N late to the performance she was attending. Then, I was supposed to walk Ms. S down to get gelato, but suddenly I had to pee so horrifically and the bathroom at the gelateria was occupied. So I ran home and made her miss her whole opportunity for gelato. And I feel pretty bad about that. I should probably just wear depends. That way I could avoid these types of situations.
Then, even after two appetizers, I made Joe dinner and managed to eat A LOT of it myself, like a big idiot and despite feeling like I did a very noble thing by cooking such a delicious dinner for my husband, I felt quite large and enormous because I basically ate two dinners. He was glued to the TV watching the preseason football game, and so I could not talk him into going out again later, when the girls texted that they were meeting up at another place. There was no way he would have left. It is the most sacred time of year: the beginning of football. I suspect it was designed specifically so that teachers who are dreading going back to school and may have otherwise done themselves a harm have something else to focus on and look forward to as they live in these final August weeks of dread.

So my goal for this weekend is two fold: get some exercise and practice lots. I need to make bread, too. The grocery store bread this morning just didn't cut it.

Tuesday: my 1001st post

Continuing to riff on yesterday’s theme!

1. I respect the fact that no one has to sit and listen to anything they don't want to listen to, and any time an audience doesn't get up and leave, I am grateful. Time is precious and there are so many other wonderful singers, and so many other forms of entertainment to compete for an audience’s attention.

2. I believe that all humans have an innate sense of what is good, beautiful and true.

3. I believe that even someone with no experience of classical music can listen to a classical singer and know whether the singing is beautiful and moving or makes them feel uncomfortable and turned off.

4. I acknowledge that most aspects of vocal timbre and nuance are largely subjective. So, everyone is bound to hear things a little differently. But when you decide to become a solo singer, you are putting yourself in the position to be criticized for your sound, your choices, and your musicianship. If you put it out there, you know it will be talked about, and judgments will be made.

5. I have to respect the fact that being successful at what I do completely depends on people (somebody, anybody!!!), whatever subset of the population they may be, wanting to listen to me.

6. Since I have a line-up of respected musical professionals that I pay to tell me how to be the best I can be, I don’t love unsolicited advice, suggestions, and opinions. I think it is because I try really hard not to give other people feedback, unless it is overwhelmingly good, that they have not asked for. Making cut-and-dried statements about things about which I am not truly informed is something I try to avoid, except, of course, when it comes to cursing the play calling during a Ravens game. Even that, however, is a great example of how we as humans think we know best about mostly everything. The coaches of these teams stay up all night, spending countless hours analyzing tape of the opposing team before the games to try to figure out the most effective way to beat them, but everyone at home on the couches of America has something to say about the way the plays were called. It’s an interesting way to look at it.

7. Singers want to be respected as professionals. We want people to recognize that what we do is not just a “gift” that we were born with, but a skill that we have spent a lot of time and money to learn. It’s an athletic skill that takes conditioning and preparation and sacrifice to do well. So I think we may feel disrespected when someone who does not have experience with the skill of unamplified singing criticizes an aspect of our performance.

8. I have nothing to defend. And this is the part that I think I have to work harder at: I have to stop being quite so bugged, and try to learn from any feedback I can get from anyone anywhere. I have to have confidence enough in my product to know that empirically, I must sound fine or even good to most people, most of the time, or I would not be getting hired. However, I’ve said this before: the more I learn, the more I realize I know very little, and there are countless improvements I could make, and should make. The consumer’s point of view is always valuable.

I am the same as anybody in the world: a human trying to do their best with what they’ve been given. I do not have to prove that I am the best, that I am perfect, or that I know the most about what I do, because that is just so not the point. I have not been given the responsibility to punish someone when they embarrass themselves by making statements about things they do not understand. I have only responsibility to Music, and secondarily, my voice, which I cultivate in its service.

Monday

For Monday: a thought.

Only one. Don't get too excited.

So, remember how annoyed I get when people who really have no musical education criticize aspects of what I do?

I was talking to my sister yesterday, also in the arts, and she had a revolutionary idea.

If I would take a five minute break from getting so defensive, and begin to think of them as a consumer (despite, and not excusing their not-so-nice way of imparting their thoughts, and putting aside any other motives they may have for criticism) and my self as a business, I have to take something away from what anyone has to say.

I think the part of the whole equation that really bothered me was the presumption on their behalf that they know more than I do about what I study so hard to do well. That, legitimately, is really annoying.

But putting that whole thing aside, MY EGO aside (it really hurts to do that, because it is letting go of all defense), I have to say, well, as the people that are listening to me in some capacity, their opinions matter. There is a part of me that has to truly digest what they have to say and see if there is any piece of it from which I could learn.

Not that I don't think we should be treated as professionals, people who have made a lot of sacrifices to devote themselves to being really good at something, people who are smart, driven, committed, creative, resilient, well-put-together, and would have succeeded at a number of other professions, but choose, at great financial risk to themselves, to follow their hearts instead of their security. But I also think that it is hard to hear the layman's "suggestions" when we know how truly difficult solo singing can be, and that it is not the same as being in the choir in high school or church, and that the factors involved in having a good performance are MANY, some of which we have little control over. Sometimes it is hard to hear that we are not perfect by someone's standard when we are trying very hard to perfect our craft, and look hot, and do everything we think we need to do to get hired, in addition to making a living and trying to maintain our personal relationships on a daily basis. It can get pretty exhausting and it is by no means a 9-5 job where you get to relax when you come home from work at the end of the day.

By the same token, a person's sense that it is okay to go up to someone else and give feedback that was not requested is a whole other issue, and probably says a lot about who they are in the first place, which is why everything must be taken with a grain of salt.

But it is so difficult to switch, in that moment of intensity when the words are being said, to business mode. To go from being the being that lives and breathes music and singing whose heart and soul are completely wrapped up in every note that comes out, to the person who is selling a product to a group of consumers that tend to be a pretty opinionated bunch.

But I think I am going to have to start trying to change my thinking, at least a little. To give up defense completely is a very admirable goal, but this soprano is going to have to take baby steps. :)

Note: The givers of comments I have referred to here are not people who paid for tickets to hear me sing, but rather those who have heard me in a public setting.

Friday

Okay, the biggest news of today is that I am walking around like a 90-year-old woman thanks to last night's torture session, aka YOGA.

I get there early, spread out my mat, trying not to be obvious about needing the edges of the mat to line up perfectly with the seams of the wood floor. I then remember that I am there to let go of all these psycho tendencies and lay back on the mat to try to go to my zen place. I'm almost there when I hear the voice of our teacher saying: "For those of you that were here last week, you know we focused on relaxation and restoration. This week is going to be the exact opposite of that." Of course my first day back in a month is the day she spends 20 minutes on core work and all these other sadistic things that nearly killed me.

That's cool. I needed it and should not complain. But it hurts.

Back to the Pamina conundrum: I am not convinced. Voce is being stubborn about that funny run in the middle of the aria. If it were on an "Ah" vowel, I think it might me a different story. I'm practicing it as an "Ah" though, and hope that by slowly shifting the vowel back to what it really is, I can trick myself into being able to singing it with the proper articulation. But, I am REALLY enjoying Manon and Adina. They are lovely in every way, challenging, not at all just a breeze, but they seem to fit better.

Happy Weekend!

wow!

Somehow, we were a Top Classical Music Blog in the Month of July!!!!

Thursday

I am going to admit that I am paying for the super delicious potato chip binge last night. There is a large blemish right in the middle of my face. So that will teach me to eat things like that. Sigh.

As we all know (I hope), man cannot live by opera alone, and must indulge in a little pop culture now and then to feel hip, so I enjoyed some top-forty cheesiness last night. Not that you care, but this playlist made my drive fabulous last night, spanning a truly schizophrenic range of genres:

1. Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes with Adam Levine
This is the essence of cheese.

2. Best Love Song by T-Pain, with Chris Brown
I am only just figuring out that all the references to a certain "nappy boy" in T-Pain's music are his way of describing himself. So there you go. Evidently, it's a really good thing I am only being entrusted with interpreting the great historical musical masterpieces of western civilization and not modern hip-hop.

3. Barefoot Bluejean Night by Jake Owen
Speaking of embarrassing, there really is an embarrassing line in this song-- something about the girls being hot and the beer being cold. But I like it anyway. It really is fun and reminds me of my 4-H days in Indiana.

4. Thinkin' About You by Mario

5. Where Them Girls At by David Guetta with Nicky Minaj and Flo Rida
You have just got to love a song with terrible grammar even in the title. You know it's going to be edgy.

6. Matt and Nat's by Natalie MacMaster
For your daily dose of Irish. And you should be having one.

7. One Day by Matisyahu with Akon
THIS is my favorite of the list. So soulful and beautiful.

8. Good Man by Raphael Saadiq
Apparently, a good man is someone whose "got no kids and loves the lord, never done time, well.. maybe just once."

9. Flower Duet by Luminaire
Thanks, Stu, for this fantastic remix of an opera favorite!!!!

10. Always Be My Baby by Mariah Carey
The first strains of this song have the uncanny ability to alter even the foulest mood.

11. Your Love by Nicky Minaj

12. No Es Una Novela by Monchy and Alexandra
A throwback to my salsa club days.

13. The Lord is my Shepherd by Hezekiah Walker and the Love Fellowship Crusade Choir
From The Preacher's Wife soundtrack, you know, before Whitney Houston was a coked-out scary version of her formerly golden-voiced self. This song reminds me of when I was a little kid in Sunday school, completely baffled by the 23rd Psalm. I couldn't for the life of me figure out who Shirley Goodness and her friend Mercy were, and why I would want them to follow me all the days of my life. Ahhh those were simpler times.

14. Eskimo by Damien Rice
Good, good, good. With a little mezzo-soprano love in there too.

Wednesday

Confrontation is SO hard for me, but when I take it upon myself to stand for something, I am always glad I did.

Tonight is my first voice lesson in months, and I am soooo excited. I'm excited for the drive (me time and music-listening), and to get my tune-up. Also, I usually indulge in fast food for dinner, which is a very rare guilty pleasure. Oh my goodness I am so excited.

Also, in Pennsylvania, they have these special potato chips made by people named Martin, in a white bag. They are impossible to find anywhere but this region of PA, and they are by far the most delicious chip I have ere tasted, maybe the most delicious food in general that I've ever eaten. So it's kind of the perfect storm of caloric in-take, which is why I only ate a very small lunch in preparation.

Oh, I'm singing Pamina tonight and looking at Alcina. Handel is so unbelievably good. I simply adore it, but am not really convinced it is a good fit for me at the moment. We shall see.

Tuesday

After a particularly thought provoking coaching Friday, I have about a zillion new arias to work on getting into my voice, and so I am in the soprano zone at the moment. My one sadness is the news that perhaps one of my very favorite arias to sing does not really belong in my audition package. The unfortunate thing is that it's true. Ah well. There are more where those come from. One aria I've successfully avoided all these years in Ach, ich fühl's, and it seems I can no longer get away with the excuse that I kind of hate Pamina as a person. The fact is, if you can like Micaela, which I do, you have no excuse for hating Pamina. Oh, and the other person I need to get to know all over again is Manon, and maybe Juliette.

The other thing I did this weekend was make: Ricotta Gnocchi. We ate it last night with tomato cream sauce and it was one of my proudest moments in cooking history. Oh my god, this stuff is worth the effort. Holy moly.

Tomorrow night I've got a lesson, which is lucky, because I have so much to think about vocally, and I haven't had a lesson in a couple of months. It is indeed time for a tune up!

Thank you, Ms. Millo, I needed that

Please read her delicious post, and embrace your fabulous, larger than life, opera-singing bad self.

Here it is!

Friday Frieeeeday

Well, campers, it's a hot one. I wore a very inappropriate dress to work today, because I walk, people, and I have to be able to not die in 103 degree weather. But no one really sees me, so it doesn't matter.

In other riveting news of my life (chuckle), I have a coaching today and I'm quite excited. I love coachings because I feel like it's a chance to really work through your issues with a piece without the pressure of it being perfect. I try to be as prepared as possible, obviously, but the premise is that these are works in progress not yet set in a performance-ready groove. They're supposed to still be very malleable. Having only just arrived at the conclusion that perhaps I don't suck as much as I always thought I did, I am noticing there is so much power in humble confidence. The humility part, of course coming from the knowledge that the more you know about singing, the more you realize you don't know. The confidence part coming from the hard work I have put in and the fact that I am willing to sacrifice and give of myself to be really good at something.

How often do you meet a performer in whom both of those qualities can coexist? It is rather rare.

The problem is that singing is something that is very difficult to ever feel sure of. You can know that the note has usually come out in the past, but you cannot KNOW that it is going to the next time you have to sing it. So it is not confidence in singing, really, that we can ever have, because our cords are fragile, temperamental little things that do weird stuff. It's confidence in ourselves we have to work to cultivate. It's so cliche-ish I almost hate writing it, and because it doesn't help to tell a person with no real inner-navigator to be confident in themselves. It is impossible to accomplish, and it's a phrase too cavalierly thrown around.

For the singer, the humble confidence comes from knowing we have prepared and done our work, and have put every ounce of ourselves (in the truest sense of the word "self") into what we are doing, and after that we are able to just let it go, and be okay with what comes out. It's the ability to get out of the way of the music and say, it's really not about me. I am here in service of something a lot more important than my voice and my career.

Sometimes it is a bit staggering to think that we are singing things that have stood the test of thousands of performances and hundreds of years. It kind of puts it all in perspective. I'm just one more soprano learning another revered work of the the canon, and in the words of holy writ: there is nothing new under the sun.

Thursday

Reasons why today is a great day:

1. Gigs. Apparently, and presumably, I am not going to starve this year. YAY!

2. Cooking dinner for the first time in weeks! YAY! Oh how I've missed it.

3. I just discovered there is a really good blog that will help me keep a close eye on everything Kate Middleton wears.

4. Taught a great lesson to a wonderful student who is such an inspiration to me.

5. Practicing: it's going better than I thought it would this time of the month if you know what I mean. I don't feel like I am dragging a wagon of boulders up a hill while trying to phonate and that is a good thing.

Wednesday: Truth

You must read this blog post.

Wednesday: Olivia Moment

This shoot is ridic. And as the Brits would say: get a load of those pins! Some mid-week style inspiration!

Wednesday

I just got back from an extended weekend of family fun at the beach. I laughed the whole time. Like real laughter. The kind where you can't breathe.

It was in the midst of one of these bouts that I realized I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd laughed like that. In school I was the girl who laughed at everything-- all the jokes the boys made, even the dumb ones. I was a giggle-box, and I think it probably drove everyone nuts. Laughing was a really big part of my day. I also had buck teeth and thick glasses, and child-bearing hips, even at that tender age, so you can imagine. It's a wonder I could muster a snicker. Now I seem to have learned not to be such an annoying little girl. Which actually might not be as great of an accomplishment as it sounds! I still have issues with lots of things about looks, but back then, I have to admit, I looked way worse. But I don't remember even really caring so much--it barely bothered me back then that I wasn't that pretty. Now I am a disaster if I forget to put on mascara one morning. Maybe it was all the laughing that kept me from worrying about things that just don't matter.

How healing it is to be around people who can make you laugh, just ordering breakfast, sitting on the beach, doing whatever. To get that much laughing in is like the best treat in the world.

And coming home was tough, but I suddenly have all this motivation and I don't exactly know where it came from! I am preparing for coachings, auditions, performances with renewed vigor. Oh, and I am very tan. :)

Thursday

I am still mentally in another time zone, and that alarm clock is not my friend. Morning came early this time, for realz.

Tomorrow night, I'm singing a wedding. Every singer's favorite summer past-time. Mostly because it is soo lovely and fun to sing Ave Maria, and Panis Angelicus, and The Lord's Prayer, and all the cheesy delights of yore. I simply love singing them, because they are ALWAYS a hit. Even if you sing it badly, everyone loves it! Hell, I love it! Say what you want, but those guys knew how to write for the voice. So many of the anthems I come across as a church soloist make it painfully clear that lots of composers just didn't put in the time to figure out how singing actually works, and more specifically, how each voice type works in different parts of their range. Sadly, a piece having been published, by no means denotes it's effectiveness. And people, you can think the lyrics match the sermon all you want, but if it doesn't WORK, then, no one will be moved by the words you were so anxious to have sung.

After singing the wedding, I'm going to the beach. Which is as it should be.

Wednesday

I am back from vacation and ohhh boyyy what a time we had. And now here I am, trying to get my singing voice back in order. I had a lesson scheduled for tonight, but my poor teacher is feeling under the weather, so I will have to be my own teacher for tonight. It's not a bad thing, but I always like to have a lesson right after vacations from singing, just to start me back in the right direction.

So, I think I'll try recording myself and listening to do a bit of self-correcting.

I find that my middle always suffers a bit after breaks, so I must get back on the wagon and work at it again.

In other news, I've come back from Vegas with some fabulous costume jewelry...it's the one thing show girls and opera singers have in common!

Saturday

I am about to get started teaching in about a half an hour, but I thought I'd sit down and write about how awesome life can be sometimes. :) First: the farmer's market this morning was wonderful! I got another watermelon. I'm going to go ahead and admit I'm totally obsessed...I could eat watermelon all day long.

This week has been such a wonderful smorgasbord of fun outings with friends, and it is starting to feel like this is my favorite summer ever. It sounds silly for a grown up like me to say, but I feel really lucky.

Another super plus amazing THANK YOU UNIVERSE is that, just as I am starting to worry I will have no opera to sing this year, I am asked to be part of a concert with some arias and scenes, with really fab singers. The ultimate pay off for me in singing opera, teaching, church jobs, regular jobs, anything...are those times when you get to be with people who are special, talented, motivated, hard-working, and give you opportunities to learn from them while you work together. I mean, it's downright inspiring! I would rather have that any day of the week than money, although, once in a while a girl does have to pay for rent, and well...dresses. Thank goodness I have a day job for that!

I think my idea about the bottom line (for singing gigs, at least) is maybe a bit different than some. Money, great to have. But I'm not starving, I buy the occaisional pair of shoes! The music is the bottom line.

Thursday

It was one of those mornings you wake and realize you are officially old. I mean, if I had two rather innocuous vodka sodas with lime and wake up with a headache...sigh...apparently I have some work to do. Or else, I am just not bouncing back the way I once did. I warmed up this morning and I can still sing fine, though...weird that my voice is more resilient than the rest of myself.

At any rate, I have had a little help from friends motivating myself to get some rep together for a recital. It's a good thing.

Because I have all these dresses I need to get some mileage out of.

Tuesday

I am having a hell of a time being unmotivated this week. What with the Fourth of July and all, it's really been a fabulous, relaxing time to cook, go to work, and only practice when I have to. It's actually sounds kind of nutty, but I feel like I'm on vacation when I don't have to be anywhere at night after work. If that's how you feel too, you might just be a professional musician.

Having that extra day yesterday was amazing. I made marinara sauce, bread, yogurt, and painted my nails this truly invigorating shade of hot pink that happens to look hot with my tan.

Yes, I have a tan. Joe and I took a mini vacay this weekend, in search of an outdoor pool. We found one at a hotel where we could use points and a get a free night! It was lovely. And I saw The Hangover 2, which, frankly, was underwhelming.

It is these stretches, a couple weeks at a time, when I enjoy being able to forget that I am a singer. Except that I never really do.

Tuesday

Hey guys, guess what I did last night that practically changed my life? sight read Brahms lieder with my husband!

In my uptight, type A way, I of course couldn't just have fun sight-reading songs, but was prepared with these little sticky tab things to mark songs that I liked best (for possible later programming) and soon realized we were marking every single one. Instant mood elevator. Brahms.

It is that good, people.

Not a clunker in the bunch. The only sad thing about last night was our observation that you really couldn't get away with going through life ONLY playing or singing Brahms. OR could you?

Monday

It's not exactly a red-letter day. I feel funny after a bad experience with a strangely written anthem yesterday, and I had a student cancel today, and a bit of bad news came for Joe. I am a little down on myself, down on ourselves. For the first time in a while, I am not as worried about money as usual. Not that I am rolling in dough, but it looks like the coming year will be busy with gigs, though none so far of the opera variety, making my soul collapse a little. I will just have to go to lots of auditions and sing my arias many times for people, pretending that I am onstage. It sounds silly, but it does help.

However, not every day can be a hopeful day. Sometimes you feel a little bad, and that is life. It's funny, because when I was with my grandmother, I got the sense that she was trying to help me understand something, trying to educate me about how it was going to be, since we had our first real brush with scary health issues this year. That's life, she said, hard things, sad things, happen a good deal of the time. You can't expect to be happy every moment. You also can't expect that people will treat you well, or fairly. Not that you have to stand for it, but you waste your energy on expectations that are unrealistic.

So, it might just be time to put on my big girl panties (as Caroline Manzo would say), and get over it. If I spend today feeling bad, that's a day wasted.

I refuse to feel bad today. I've just decided. I'm going home right after this and practice. After all, shouldn't excellence be my pursuit, and not merely success? And then, I'm probably going to make a nice (healthy, mostly vegetables because I am getting chunky) dinner and eat it at the dining room table.

I know, I live a very edgy and riveting life.

Hell yeah.

Friday

Hello there!

I have returned from a visit with my grandmother-- my favorite and most trustworthy confidant. I come bearing a recipe for crunchy baked chicken that I think I am going to make tomorrow. It was that good.

Also, I did not spend much time thinking about singing. It was supposed to be zero, but you know how that goes. I got an email about an offer over the week that I had to spend some pool time mulling over. But that is a very good thing.

I also kind of have a tan.

Friday

Things I like today:

- the new Pioneer Woman recipe for smoked gouda pasta salad.

- pre-flight parking services

- Sally Hansen Hard as Nails Extreme Wear color "Grey Area." It makes me look subtly trendy. It's sad when the only rush you get all day is looking down at your manicure.

- going to Subway for lunch for the first time in probably years.

- Extreme Couponing-- the new show on TLC. Wow I get tooo excited every time I see those numbers on the cash register going down down down.


Things I do not like today to the point of hating:

- My voice is dead meat and I have a rehearsal with a pianist with whom I have never worked and that is just bad.

- Waiting to hear back from one person so you can tell the other person a vital piece of information.

- When the wind blows my skirt up around my chin and my hands are full and I cannot get it back down in order to avoid having the entire world see my underwear.

Thursday

My voice is so tired and totally shredded from the week. Oh and I wanted to do yoga tonight but somehow that did not happen. Maybe it was the wine tasting I went to this afternoon. Maybe it was the greek salad and two ears of corn. Sigh. I am a failure at yoga tonight. And when I go to visit my grandmother next week, she is going to mention that I need to watch my weight.

That being said, after tonight's rehearsal, I now know that I am probably going to screw up the words in Norina's Aria, because by this time if I am still screwing them up there is practically no hope for me.

Failure. All the way around. Yoga, singing, etc.

Tuesday

Tuesday is always better than Monday, even if you have a full day of work and hours of rehearsal. But it is REALLY good if you get to look at pictures of Olivia Palermo and be inspired by her flawless style.

ZOE-my-god, mark my words, if and when I am stick thin (hahaha), and, well, rich (hahaha), I will be wearing my clothes EXACTLY like this young lady. It's this fabulous femininity without a hint of hollywood trashiness. Praise the lord. If I never see a cleavage-ridden, blonder than god OC Housewife again it will be too soon.

Based on her short-lived turn on that paragon of intellectual viewing: MTV's The City, I'm pretty sure Olivia and I would never be friends. She would disdain me because I am poor, and not thin. But I waited by the television anxiously each week, just to see what she would wear. And I was never disappointed.

Monday

Just when you thought you'd heard everything -- I just read on an online forum for singers that some people take asprin before performances in order to thin their blood and allow them to access their high notes more easily. I'd always heard taking blood thinners at a time when you intend to sing was a bad idea, that is, unless you were really in the mood to deal with a broken blood vessel in your vocal cords.

No matter how solid I feel my technique is becoming, there is always that set of circumstances/hormones that makes it feel like I'll never be able to get my voice to go up the way it needs to. Lots of warming up is required, and slowly, and softly, and lots and lots of lip trills. Those are the days I would be tempted to try a quick fix like the asprin idea...but is probably also the time when it would be the worst time to do it, since it's any kind of pushing the voice that can cause damage.

For some reason, I seem to have embarked upon a season of singing very high. At least I feel like my new arias have notes that I had not made a habit of singing in public for a few years. I always had them in there, but I'd been singing the lyric soprano rep that really tops out at around a high B. Now, I'm adding in a few other things that could be considered just slightly more on the coloratura side, to show a bit more range. Although I am not and probably never will step fully onto that other greener side of the pasture. I'm very much happy and fine with that, to be honest.

The true challenge of singing, besides the actual singing part, is trying to figure out what really shows you off to greatest advantage. What you sing just as well or better than anyone else, and what your look and timbre can support. Yes, we all sing things because we can, but I am starting to think that the window of roles for which I am really perfect is not as large as what everyone's teacher would have them believe.

When someone says to me: "You should just go get some Kiri te Kanawa recordings-- I think that you can probably sing anything she sings," don't get me wrong I am flattered. Actually, I might even go out and pop a bottle of Veuve in celebration, sitting out on the park bench in front of that person's apartment building. But I know better than that. I know that that is just too easy an answer. I actually paid a coach good money who said that to me.

What in the heck was I thinking?

Then we start to really think about things logically.

1. How high and with what level of facility can I sing confidently?

2. How much cut and strength do I have in my middle voice?

3. What is my timbre? Bright, dark, Italian, German?

4. How loud am I? How big an orchestra can I sing over without doing myself a harm?

5. How tall am I?

6. Am I thin? (ummmm, I hate that question)

7. As myself, speaking from what I feel about myself as a person, am I a damsel in distress, a coquette, or a strong-willed type? Do I lean more toward a demeanor of elegance or that of fun?

See, I told you. It's a pretty complex matrix. I feel like I need to get a flow chart going or something.

And now, I'm getting stressed. I think I'll go to yoga.

Monday, Part the Second

So true, absolutely love it. Thank you for you gorgeous blog, Opera Chanteuse!

Friday

Here it is Friday, already, and I've gone so long without writing. I was busy having fun, I guess! I am so thankful for the friends I have-- they are an amazing support system, and absolutely hilarious and fun to be around. They have been very carefully selected, and I am proud of my choices. :)

Next week I really have to kick myself into high gear to learn these new arias for the trial run next Sunday night. I have to be honest, with synagogue and an important audition the day before, and then church too, I'm a little nervous about A) having learned them thoroughly and B) being too tired to sing them well. They are all VERY HIGH. Actually, very rangy, in general. Which requires a lot of focused work to make it sound cohesive. So, I am saying no to all not previously scheduled fun things, because I have to stay home and practice the whole week. It will be really good for me to focus.

This morning, I woke up with a startling headache-- and no, it wasn't because I was hungover, people. I think it was the heat. It's ridiccccculously hot here, and the ceiling fan in my bedroom has been broken for over a week. I'm wondering when, if ever, the maintenance guy is coming to fix it. I still have the edges of this headache and I have to try really hard to be nice to people.

Monday: a public service announcement

This is hilarious-- a sadly true post on a fantastic blog:

You're going to get a kick out of this.

"How to treat your pianist"

Friday

So many times, I think I have finally learned a lesson, but I realize I've gone right back and done that same thing again. I go back to that old place. In singing, in life situations. It really bothers me to see myself in patterns like that, because I feel like real growth is about breaking the negative patterns that aspects of one's upbringing and various insecurities have created.

In my coaching the other day, I left frustrated. Because it felt like she was still having to remind me of the same things now that she did a year ago. I thought I had fixed those things, but I listened to the recording afterward, and was not sure I could even specifically understand how to put into practice the things she was asking me to do. The minute you think you know how to sing, you realize you're still learning how to do everything. So I started thinking that maybe I need to come up with a very specific warm-up mantra that I can use to remind myself when I practice of all the things I should be focused on. The problem is that I think it would be like a paragraph long.

Also, I realize that I am a person with very specific ideas of how things should be. Of how people should behave, and how they should treat each other. It can be a little much. I thought I was learning to lighten up, at least to the point that while I may still have been really annoying other people, I was at least becoming tolerant enough to not drive myself insane. I found I was getting angry or overly annoyed about things that just really are not A) anything I can control, or B) something I could actually set a boundary about and not have to feel bad about enforcing it. I thought I had learned these lessons. But I think it may have actually just been that I hadn't been faced with many situations that tested me in that way.

So here I am, back to baby-dom again. Learning how to really connect a phrase, how to stay completely reliant on my breath, how not to let things piss me off, how not to judge people when they don't act the way I think they should. Also, I have no idea what is going on for the most part in yoga, either. So, maybe I am going through some kind of karmic phase.

It is not a bad thing. But sometimes it is scary.

Tuesday

After one very intense coaching, a trip to walmart (which can be pretty intense in and of itself), and a 90 minute yoga class that wasn't supposed to be "hot" but was anyway, because...wellllll...it's hot, I'm feeling like I've had a full day.

So this is what it would be like if I had a sugar daddy? I would be thin and supremely well-coached. I would probably switch the walmart part out, however, for, say, Bergdorf Goodman. But my life isn't so shabby. I have my apt., my cat children, and I get to spend my life with the kindest human being that ever lived. I mean, he's practically Jesus, except with amazing piano skills.

As much time as I spend wondering: Am I doing what I was put here to do? Am I where I am supposed to be? Am I reaching my potential as a singer, a person, a friend? I got this peaceful feeling tonight that maybe doing the best you can and trying for a little better, a little more, is really actually great.

Monday

Tomorrow morning, I have a coaching...quick, must have immediate touch up on some French, and must have some one with some authority to reassure me that singing Baby Doe is not totally ridiculous? And will not turn me into a laughing stock at my next audition?

Oh my oh my oh my.

At least I will look good at my coaching, however, since I have been sunning myself at the pool all day.

Thursday

Okay, I can't believe I waited this long to take a yoga class!!! People, it was so hard at some points that I thought I was going to puke, but when it was done I felt amazing. The next day I woke up feeling like I'd been at the beach all week. And sore. But very relaxed.

You've heard me rant about how much I hate working out, and sadly, that hasn't changed. But when I thought about what I hate so much about it, it became clear why I liked yoga so much.

I don't know anyone. I don't have to chat. There is no blaring music. I am not running. There is no small talk to make. You can hear birds chirping because the windows are open. It is about self-acceptance instead of self-criticism.

Maybe it is a little weird how much I just want to be alone a lot of the time. But I also think that it may give me additional ability to really be with my friends when I choose to spend time with them. Like maybe the time I spend alone is time to get rid of all that white noise we have in our heads, and create space to focus on the people in our lives when the time comes to do that.

Being in a room full of people at a yoga class was a lot like being alone. I think I might be addicted.

Tuesday: Attention Soprani

I have ranted many a time on this self-same blog about predatory sopranos. I have prayed for serenity in times of soprano attack. I have constantly reviewed my own behavior in the hope that I will never give in to acting like this myself.

So, I submit to you: Today's Soprano Mantra: "Let me be self-aware. And let me not be a bitch."

And then IMMEDIATELY read this brilliant and hilarious article written by my fabulous friend: Soprano vs. Soprano

Monday

There's been a lot of excitement this weekend, what with the big horse race, and the rapture, and book club and all. I was kind of hoping there'd be better follow-up reporting with the guy who said the lord was coming back Saturday evening, but it seems he isn't taking anyone's calls. Or maybe, he really was raptured.

Well, going to the Preakness for me is almost as good as going to heaven. There is food, hats, drinks, horses, a lot of hot outfits, some minor celebrities, and best of all, most of the men actually dress up too! It's lovely to see the guys get spruced up. Joe had the most lovely seer-sucker suit, and I was proud to be seen with him.

I was sad to say goodbye to the book we read! The 1000 Autumns of Jacob de Zoet is by David Mitchell, and really a great read. I have the weirdest feelings of sadness and grief when I am done a great book. It has, however, amped up my life-long wish to go to Japan. I reallllllyyy want to now.

I haven't got a lot to say. I'm boring, people. I wonder if my self-enforced week of detox (from alcohol and sugary food) and yoga will give me a lot of material to write about. I'm sure by Wednesday or Thursday, I will be back to my old mantra: Life is short, go crazy.

At any rate, it will be a long week.

Wednesday

Today, we all need to listen to some Mahler. He died 100 years ago today. Plus, the weather is so Mahlerish.

I'm starting with the first symphony. He is a guy I wish I had taken a class about in grad school. I did Wagner, Mozart, blah, blah, blah...but Mahler. I think we would understand each other very well. Since I have always felt that bigger is better.

It just is, okay?

Sunday

Well, it turns out that being a little poor (too poor, that is, to risk putting my wallet in the imminent danger we call a great many shoes I want at the mall) is very productive for me. Not only does it force me to stay home and do things one must do, like laundry, but it offers just the right amount of boredom to get me to do projects that would seem otherwise ridiculous.

Like making bagels.

After church today, I was braindead, as per usual, feeling rather like maybe I hadn't sounded so good. I was cranky about it. So we ate left-over chicken enchiladas for lunch and I read for awhile. Then I got bored and went flipping through my collection of internet downloaded recipes, and came across an easy recipe for bagels. Talk about a cheap hobby. Bread-baking is just a cheap enough hobby (cost: flour, yeast) to make me forget momentarily how completely maddening it can be.

But low and behold, this was really not too maddening at all and these bagels are a revelation. It was easy and they are good, and they are smaller than the ones you buy, so it doesn't feel like you just ate a hockey puck.

Now, can someone please tell me who thought of BOILING bread dough in the first place? It seems like maybe it was an accidental discovery. So whenever I am too cash poor to go buy a bag (mostly because I have been having way too much fun going out with friends), I suppose making bagels would be a good and industrious thing to do. Joe will be thrilled.

Which is something else I should probably be concerned about. Am I treating my husband TOO well? I hope he doesn't get used to this. :)

Oh, and Here's the recipe!!!

WOW!

My little blog-let was named in the 50 Best Blogs for Opera Students!!!

Well, it's not a Pulitzer, but I'm certainly honored!

Wednesday

I'm working on a very challenging new aria. It's hard, don't get me wrong, but most of it is working it's way right into my throat. EXCEPT: There are about two measures that are giving me a hernia-- a very fierce coloratura passage, naturally. My facility has really improved in that way lately, and my very high extension is stronger than it has been in ten years, but this one section....sigh. And as we all know, even if you can sing the whole rest of the thing, not being able to do two crucial measures well can ruin the whole aria.

So my question is this: with something like coloratura (that honestly is not as natural to me as I would like it to be), can practicing the passage hundreds of times mean that eventually it WILL sound natural and gorgeous? Or is what I have always kind of suspected true: if it doesn't work within the first ten times you try to sing it, it's probably not the right aria for you?

Hmmm.

Tuesday

I Got Kin



Plant

So that your own heart

Will grow.


Love

So God will think,


"Ahhhhhh,

I got kin in that body!

I should start inviting that soul over

For coffee and

Rolls."


Sing

Because this is a food

Our starving world

Needs.


Laugh

Because that is the purest

Sound.


--Hafiz

trans. Daniel Ladinsky

Monday

Going to Washington DC is always a delightful challenge for those of used to cities whose streets are laid out in a way that makes even the slightest bit of sense. Then you have to wonder about where you are supposed to park when there are no parking garages in sight and pedestrians keep walking out in the middle of the road. Also, there are entire sections of town that have a stop sign every block and when you are in a hurry to get to your audition, it can be challenging. Because, inevitably, you are behind a person in an ancient truck whose motor is barely still working and it takes about 12 minutes for the car to restart itself after stopping at the stop signs every block.

So it is a blessed discovery to make when you call and find out that the audition venue actually has a parking lot.

By this time, you have practically killed several pedestrians, given yourself an aneurysm (extra points for correct spelling), nearly wrecked your car, and dodged a speeding ticket.

It has already been a long morning.

Did I mention I got up at 6:30 am?

So you run in, change into the dress you spent the better part of an hour ironing the night before (when you should have been sleeping), run up the stairs to the warm up room, sing through those few measures that always feel sluggish or insecure, fill out your paper, run back down, try to catch your breath for five seconds, and then: YOU'RE ON.

Ready, set, sing.

Then, you thank the panel, the pianist, and the good lord for letting you make it there on time.

You change back to your civvies, get in your car, exit the parking lot and promptly get horribly lost again, making it home just in time to remember that there is a street fair in your neighborhood and you're going to have to circle for about 20 minutes before you find a place to park.

But all is not lost, because you have gotten home before your voice student arrives.

So I teach awhile and then remember that my in-laws are in town for Mother's Day and they're here to spend time with me!

The door opens, and they arrive with, oddly enough, a cake in the shape of a lamb. Someone please correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure Easter was two weeks ago. We cut and eat the cake, starting with the haunches. I field questions about why I didn't cut it's head first. Then I realize that the cake probably actually is two weeks old, and a bit past it's prime. So we are sitting there eating old cake, looking at the leftover head and shoulders of a lamb.

Then three-thirty rolls around and it is high time we went out for dinner.

By 5, we've eaten dinner and are ready for bed.

For once, I am just exhausted enough for this time table to have made a lot of sense.

Thursday : Top 5 MOST Annoying Things That Could Possibly Happen to an Opera Singer

I would like to submit to you: a list.

Top 5 MOST Annoying Things That Could Possibly Happen to an Opera Singer

1. Any unsolicited criticism ("helpful hint" or "tip" or "comment") of my singing preceded by the phrase "I've never had any formal vocal training, but I was in choir in high school, and I really think..."
I don't try to give you tips about how to be a better lawyer, doctor, or whatever. Don't coach me on singing, peeps.

2. Being compared to Josh Groban.

3. Being in a show with those colleagues who are otherwise lovely, but never seem to have been informed of or have conveniently decided to ignore the rule about it not being their place to offer advice about how to be a more fabulous actor (like them), have a better sound in your high and/or low range (like them), how to support and project more efficiently (like them), what rep you should really be singing, or what voice teacher would be right for you rather than the one with whom you are currently studying.

4. Working with a person that makes excuses for themselves.
Just stop. Close your mouth, and then figure out how to fix it. We do know how hard it is to be a good singer, and actor, and watch the conductor at the same time. Sometimes its nearly impossible. But it is so frustrating when people do not take responsibility, because there is nothing anyone can do to help if no one will admit something is their fault.

5. Having to remind people to pay us.
No, a fairy did not come to me in a dream and tap me on the head with a wand, and *poof* I was a fantastic singer. No, I do not just do this because it is fun. Even though sometimes it is fun. However, it becomes significantly UN-fun when I have to beg for my money. Again, you would never do that to your lawyer, doctor, or whatever. Don't do it to singers. We have degrees too, and have actually worked our a**es off, and continue to work them off in order to develop the kind of technique that allows us to sing the ridiculous cover of the pop song you want for your daughter's wedding while maintaining a modicum of human dignity.

Monday

On a small placard (ironically) over my kitchen sink:

"All I ask is that you treat me no differently than you would the Queen."

Thursday

Okay. Not so much. No pedicure fun. I think I am going to have to stop making plans for a while. Things keep happening to subvert them.

Wednesday

Someone asked me again yesterday when I was planning to have a baby. I always feel like I have to defend myself and my reasoning for not having any inclination to do so whatsoever. It is an icky feeling.

And in order to defend against all icky feelings, one must arm themselves with very high notes, very sexy chest voice singing, and gorgeous hands and feet. Which is exactly why I am finally getting a pedi tonight. It looks like it might just be sandal weather, and I'd rather not put people off their feed by showcasing my current toe situation to all the world.

There are just certain things, I find, that people expect you to do, as a woman. I think I have done a pretty good job of conforming to most of them. For a long time, I felt like I needed to conform to be "right." But as I got older, and by the time I got married, for sure, I had switched pretty much completely over to doing things because they felt like the "right thing to do" for ME. I am reminded every time someone asks me an uncomfortable question, that I have to work even harder at not allowing the judge inside myself to turn on when people decide to try doing something a little differently than everyone else. I've always had a strong set of values when it comes to what I believe is right and wrong, but things like having a baby, who you love, getting married/not getting married, etc. definitely don't fall into the "right and wrong" category. Things that do: RSVPing, being nice, putting others before yourself, returning calls, honesty, showing up, and loyalty.

Also, singing in tune.

Friday

I've been saying for a couple weeks now that I need to go to a sweat lodge and be cleansed by a shaman or something after a year of a lot of weird stuff happening. The experiences are forcing me, however, to really think about what I'm supposed to be learning from all this.

Passover and Holy Week come at a good time for a little healthy commiserating. It's lovely to have an excuse sometimes to just grieve a little. I don't know about you, but I've been using up about 75% of my energy just trying to have a good attitude and proceed with life as usual.

Not that I can really identify in any real way with what it might be like to be enslaved for 400 years or to be ridiculed, beaten, and crucified, but wouldn't it just suck if our religions tried to pretend nothing bad ever happens?

So I am going to let the whole sense of Good Friday sink in a little. It's gray outside and it seems right.

It's kind of nice to know, though, and remember that the whole point is, both stories turn out really well in the end.

Wednesday, part 2

Here might I stay and sing,
No story so divine;
Never was love, dear King!
Never was grief like Thine.
This is my Friend, in Whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend.

Wednesday

Hello! This is the first time in years I believe I have been relatively coherent and free of colossal fear and dread this time during Holy Week. Since I now sing for the kind of church that has weekly services, but does not make a big deal over things like Christmas or Easter, I'm kind of feeling light as a feather. I have some extra things for Passover, which will be lovely for the wallet, but I am not ready to kill myself with insane busyness like I was last year. It's the little things in life.

Monday

What a wonderful weekend I have had, interrupted only momentarily by the obtuseness of a certain someone with an opinion: "You know, I've never had any formal vocal training, but I was in high school choir, and I think you need to watch your .... when you sing. I find that sopranos especially do this a lot. But that's the only thing wrong with your singing that I can see."

I said "Thank you for letting me know. I will be careful about that in the future," with a stone cold face and sashayed away. It was pretty clear I wasn't pleased, but in a court of law...

Oh say can you see...all the people who think they know something because they were in choir in high school. And then, of course, I spent the better part of the drive home from church (that was the scene of the crime) thinking of much better come backs.

In other news, I attended a show of the national tour of West Side Story, and I am sorry to say the singing was perfectly abysmal. The dancing was great, though, and some of the acting quite fabulous. I am actually pretty mortified that people get hired and sing like that, but then, in some ways, it was rather validating. The fact is, it's really kind of almost impossible to be a really successful triple threat. It takes all the time one has in a day just to learn how to sing beautifully, and kind of act at the same time-- it is truly the work of a lifetime to hone a fantastic vocal technique. Add dancing in there, and something's going to suffer.

In the meantime, I will be working very hard at not paying it forward with the rude comments-- but I do think I am smart enough to know better than to criticize others at what they do for a living and have masters degrees in.

Well, it's Monday, and this time last week, I was hyperventilating at my desk, so today is already better.

Love to all!!!

Saturday

There's a terrible storm and we were watching Hannibal... I thought I would be okay, but my extreme sensitivity to human suffering kicked in and I promptly freaked out.

Good audition today. My voice was working, and despite looking like a drowned rat from the downpour, I think I made out okay.

I have come to terms with the fact that I will never finish Hannibal. Although I love the soundtrack...beauteous. And now it is bed-time.

Friday

Oh wow. Last night was tres fun.

I have been listening to all sorts of soprani singing my "Qui la voce," and I'm feeling like Caballe is probably my favorite, but it's frustrating because you have to buy the whole ALBUM on i-tunes if you want the track. So, I've purchased a Joan Sutherland version that is rather dreamy. My one problem with Dame Joan is that when I listen to her too much I find myself beginning to shift over to that long-ago expunged way of singing that sounds like I have a mouthful of marbles. So I shall listen to it only three or four hundred times instead of every second.

Thursday

While familial disturbances press and I worry about Joe having another problem, I have decided that it is about time I just go out to dinner with Stu. So that is what I am doing tonight, and then, meeting up for drinks at the grand old owl right after.

That being said, prior to partying, I will be opening up a can of whoop ass on some I Puritani-- my new aria is "Qui la voce," and I'm pretty pumped. It is such a pleasure to practice new things, and sometimes even things you didn't think you'd ever feel quite comfortable singing that are now suddenly feeling just right.

All will be well. In any case, we have to just get on with it.

Tuesday

I am back on the wagon of fabulous. Now, if only I had the cash to go shopping.

I should rather like an entire new spring wardrobe, and to lose 40 pounds. But I love eating and hate going to the gym, so I don't see it happening.

Along those same lines, I am diving back into my Sibelius songs, because I refuse to continue living life without them. They are divinity. Now, for someone who can speak danish or swedish whatever the actual language they are happens to be. They just don't teach you Nordic tongues in school for singing, so I'm going to need a lot of help.

Once again, I can drink, I can do things. But what I really need to get on is: MY TAXES. The bane of my existence.

Monday

The saddest day in the world is a Monday after a weekend of performances when you have to put on your clothes and go back to work and to life as usual. You miss your cast, you miss the audience...the fun and excitement and adrenaline.

Luckily for me, it is a beautiful day, and besides mourning the loss of my show (although I consider it a great success), I cannot be sad because it is just so lovely.

I am facing a little bit of a break in my schedule, besides the usual auditions and things, and it is both terrifying and thrilling all at once. There's that recital I've been wanting to have time to do for the past two years, there's all those other things...I'm dying to learn a few new arias for the audition list.

Happy Monday!

Sunday

Arise, shine, for thy light is come.

-- Isaiah

Friday

It's opening night, and I am feeling good. Putting the sad things behind and moving forward. It has been horrible to have to sound good during the last few weeks, but a the same time, kind of my saving grace to have something else to focus on for a few hours a day!

I am looking at a bit of a dry spell for singing after this weekend, except for my weekly gigs, but I think it will be a great opportunity to learn a new aria and start putting together the ever-elusive recital program. And you never know what can happen.

Tuesday

It's taking all my energy to appear composed and with it, cheerful and kind. After two weeks, my poor Joe is still suffering. I really miss seeing him smiling and happy. It is hard to see him not.

Tomorrow, he is having another thing done over at the hospital, the timing of which coordinates just perfectly with my last dress rehearsal before this weekend's performances. I am starting to think that I will look back on this month as one of my hardest ever, even in the context of this year in general, which has brought so many challenges, and really hasn't been what you would call stellar.

It's funny how some of my most exciting professional moments this year, however, have happened to be right in the middle of a couple of my worst times personally. It leaves me wondering what the Universe is trying to tell me... and what I would have sounded like had I not been so sad/mad/disappointed inside. Probably way better. Or maybe not.

My grandmother is fond of telling me that good comes out of everything. I really do believe that. But in this case, and according to Sally: "The only really good thing that will come out of this is that you know you can live through it."

Monday

I am having an existential blogging crisis. I don't know if it is really working for me any more. I find that all the things I really need to talk about, I can't stand the thought of putting online, and the kind of detail I really need to go into is just so potentially damaging that I don't know how to reconcile it.

I always have this sense that there are a lot of people I could offend or betray, or that the deepest worries of my soul will just sound like whining, because, after all these years, it is a mite repetitive.

In other very non-specific news, I am having a lovely time with my current show. The other singers are truly talented people with great voices, and it's a fab cast. We are having such an intense experience because the rehearsal time has been very compact. My dress is tonight, and in all honesty, I'm a little worried about my voice making it, after all the rehearsal in the past few days.

But I have a great costume, and I'm going to just go out there and make it happen, however I have to. We must be fabulous or die.

Friday

Joey is having surgery today. I am so happy for him, because he will feel so much better afterward, but I am a little scared.

It has been quite a week. Send us your good energy.

Wednesday

What insanity has taken over my life! It is as thought the gods are trying to sabotage any attempt I make at being well-prepared for rehearsals to begin with my latest gig.

I got on a trial last week at jury duty and that was an experience, to say the least. Very disruptive to my finely-tuned schedule, but I'm glad I had the opportunity to do it. I actually felt like I was doing something to give back, in some small way.

I burned my eye-- you've already heard about this.

And then, this week, my poor Joe is very ill and we've been in the emergency room twice. He is going to be okay, thank god, but it really made me think about what really matters to me. Being with him when we was in bad shape reminded me how much the other stuff really is not worth worrying about. Last night while he was in percocet la-la land, I had a chance to spend some quality time memorizing. And I drank a glass of wine.

Friday

I was selected for a jury! How crazy is that? It was a grueling, but fascinating experience, and I am so glad I did it.

In other news, I have a lot to catch up on. And I need to whip up some Donizetti for an upcoming audition. When was the last time I talked about Donizetti? Yeah...exactly. Better get on that.

Monday again!

Well, my cousin is here, and I can abolustely say with certainty that jury duty tomorrow is going to be lively after two martinis and a half a bottle of F. Coppola S.B.

Oh no. I cannot believe the United States would call me even though they know for sure I am too naive looking to be chosen for a jury.

Monday

Oh my god. I took my first nap in two months yesterday. It was phenomenal. Feeling so great today. That being said, I realize I have a lot of work to do on memorizing the next thing for me. Good thing I have jury duty tomorrow and can sit and memorize for hours. I always secretly hope that I will get chosen for a jury, but I never am, and have it on good authority that I never will be. One of the delightful ladies in my synagogue choir is an assistant states attorney and mentioned that I wouldn't be chosen because I am "too naive looking." So there goes my little Law and Order fantasy. But I wish they would mark that on my record somewhere, and take me off the list so that I didn't have to keep going every single year, even though I have no possibility of being picked. I do have to say, I am not sad about the prospect of just sitting, however.

Tonight, I am so lucky to have my cousin's husband in town for an interview, and I get to cook a dinner and things! I think we are going to have chicken piccata and a salad and couscous. Hurrah for domesticity.

Friday, part the second

I just had the best time singing. Sometimes everything comes together and just reminds you why music is worth it...why we are willing to work every single day of the week, for pay or for free.  Money is so secondary.  I hate that I need to have it at all. 

Friday

Never mix up the containers on your bathroom counter. You will burn your eye with hydrogen peroxide solution like I did yesterday morning. Not one of my finer moments, and I had to walk around the whole day looking like a vampire. And I had to call in sick to work because of the excruciating pain. But I went to the audition I had scheduled. Red eye of death and all. I was pretty proud of my sheer will to persevere, although, I probably put the panel off their feed for the rest of the day, with my scariness. I really should have rescheduled. At any rate, tonight is another concert, and the eye is healing nicely. By this evening, I should look like a human being again.

Tomorrow, I had hoped to a little chance to sleep in, but I've got a staging rehearsal at 10 am, and teaching at 12:30. And after THAT I will learn my anthem for church and then drink myself into oblivion.

Or something like that. Probably not oblivion. Maybe a couple glasses.

Tuesday

I'm having one of those days when I am pretty sure I am forgetting things. Like a lot of of things.

My car is fixed now, thank god. I will actually be able to go places. Now, if I could just find time to fit in a shopping trip...hmmm maybe in early April.

Excuse me, but it's now time for me to go live and breathe Micaela, the role that absolutely highlights any trouble we lyric sopranos might have in the passagio. When I am fresh, it's easy as pie, if I apply lots of energy and all my focus. When I'm tired, as I was last night, it can be a real trial to stay resonant and in tune. It's funny when it finally dawns on you that you can't do the thing where you use your youth as an excuse...that a little shakiness here or there, lack of focus in the tone, pitchiness, is no longer really something you can get away with. It's my job to sing it right and make it look easy, to put the audience at ease, so that they can enjoy what Bizet wrote. A person like Micaela should make them feel sorry for her, but not because she is having trouble with the B natural.

Saturday

I have not run that fast in platform pumps in a long time. I make it a point not to run. And when one is wearing heels, one expects door to door service and limos and butlers and things like that.

So, I get up at seven. I drink copious amounts of coffee, I shower, I begin to shellac my face with all manner of expensive potions until I am starting to look like a human woman. I eat some cereal, I curl my hair. I go downstairs so as not to disturb my neighbors (even though they are constantly disturbing me, but I am nicer)to warm up. I then drink a glass of water with lemon because I am hella phlegmy, and by this time it is time to pour myself into some control-top hose and put on my dress.

By ten-fifteen I was looking good, feeling good, shellacked within an inch of my life, and I got my binder and left for my audition.

Well, wouldn't you know it, my brand new car chose that moment not to start. Like not even a whiff of a start. Like the battery was dead and the thing wouldn't turn over. I panicked. I called Joe, I called Bo, I called the artistic director's office, but of course he wasn't there because he was listening to other people's auditions. And then, the brilliant idea of a cab came to mind. I could take a cab!

So that is why I had to run, because when you have been preparing for an audition, you want to go to it, and you don't want the people to think you just blew them off, when you clearly are nearly killing yourself to get there. I had to run two blocks in those god damn heels to get to a street where the cabs were more plentiful. When I got in the cab, I practically kissed the driver, and wanted to cut my feet off because they were killing me after having only worn the shoes for a total of like fifteen minutes that day. Can anyone please back me up about how annoying it is that cab drivers in Baltimore never know where any destination is. They don't even know where St. Paul intersects, well...any number of roads. You have to explain to them exactly where everything is, which I was much too stressed to do, and we missed it by like an entire ten blocks or something. So when I finally arrived, the girl just before me was singing, and it was time for me to go in. I didn't know what was going to come out of my mouth. I out of breath and a little bit worried.

But it was GOOD. What came out was GOOOOOODDD. I can't believe it.

After I sang and DIDN'T suck, I bashfully admitted to the AD of the company that I had left a pretty wacko message on his phone about twenty minutes ago when I was practically hitch-hiking to the audition.

"Just ignore it," I giggled.

When what I actually meant was, hey bitches! I just rocked the house after running two blocks in heels wearing a jewel tone dress and enough make-up on to make a tranny blush!

Just another weird ass day in the life of an opera singer.

And, I did find a legging supplier closer to home. It's a very good day.

Friday

Okay, well, its Friday and I am officially a memorizing fiend. I am the person you see walking down the street that you may have mistaken for a crazy person because she was singing to herself and crazily walking in rhythm with the song. But it works, so who cares.

In other riveting news, I have a legging shortage. When I realized that two pair had holes the other day, it was pretty good timing, really. The only place I buy leggings, you see, is this very specific Fashion Bug (some of you are cringing, and I don't blame you, really)in Lancaster, PA. They have the best leggings in the world. I don't really know why. But they are just really comfortable and great. Since my teacher's studio is near there and I was on my way to my voice lesson that evening, it seemed like I'd be able to stock up. Well, when I got there, parked my car next to a horse and buggy, and got up to the door, the golden Fashion Bug of Lancaster was closed.

Which means that now, I am going to need to spend the weekend doing a tour of Maryland Fashion bugs til I can find a place that has them, and then buy all of them. Because they are even out of stock online!

Let this be a lesson to you. Buy all the leggings you can get your hands on. You'll be glad you did.

Tuesday

A couple of great things happened yesterday. It snowed. I got a new Ina Garten cookbook.

And then I wonder why I'm feeling chubby...maybe its because all I think about is the next thing I'm going to get to cook or sing. And at least one of those things can really pack on the pounds.

Monday

Well, I am in utter disbelief that according to most, we are getting snow again. I am also in utter disbelief that I have to be at work when the rest of the world has today off.

I am happy to report that the first rehearsals of the contemporary piece I am toiling over went well. What a relief to have those first rehearsals behind me, the most nerve-wracking week ever! This week, I will have to really focus on Carmen. I tried to protect my schedule this week to be sure there was plenty of time for solidifying things. Practicing on lunch breaks is not as productive as I would like it to be. I feel like I've barely warmed up before I have to be back at work. Even those days when I put in what feels like hours of work on a piece, and leave it feeling like I've accomplished nothing with a capital N, I am happy to discover that hard work never goes unrewarded. Sometimes, I've found, you walk away feeling like a loser, and open the score up the next day and realize you actually HAVE learned the part you thought you couldn't get.

We are getting to that part of the year when I start to covet new clothes. New bags, new flats. And god knows my leggings are all running ragged. I'll be needing a couple new pairs of those too. Also, I am discontented with my hair. Isn't it too long? The color is boring. All I really want is to look like Kim Kardashian. Is that too much to ask, people?

Friday

"I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better."

Maya Angelou

Wednesday

Guys! I am still alive after my weird study/focus experience last night. It turns out it was actually really fun because I ended up seeing someone I knew, and then I got cut from the study and still got paid! But the decor really freaked me out at first.

Tonight, VOICE LESSON!!! YAY!!! I need it so badly after my flu situation. Tune up time.

Tuesday night

I'm at the study and the office is painted the most unbelievable shade of yellow.  And not in a good way.  It is like being in the twilight zone and I'm freaked out. It also smells funny.  I hope my teacher knows what I am willing to endure to pay for voice lessons.

Tuesday

My methods of learning music are expanding by the day. It's becoming even easier to learn those weird intervals, now that I have my fabulous piano app on my phone and and play the passage and record it, and then listen to it ninety times, or as long as it take me to get it into my head. SO much more efficient than rewinding recordings hundreds of times. I know it sounds silly, but it also helps to just carry a score around with me wherever I go. That way, if it is in my hand and I have a few minutes, I can speak the French to myself, making use of whatever extra time I have that I would normally be texting my friends or playing tetris or some other thing I really should not be doing. Also, I fancy that maybe it will seep into my brain magically through osmosis.

Valentines Day is one of those days that people in relationships marginally enjoy, although it seems to come with a lot of expectations that can sometimes make even those in relationships feel shitty, and people who are single tend to feel really bad about. The problem is that I think that maybe, the holiday is supposed to actually be about all forms of love and not just the romantic kind. Sadly, it's not marketed that way, and lots of people feel horribly left out when they shouldn't. My V-day was really lovely, but I am always sensitive to the fact that it feels like a kind of unfair day to a lot of people. One of the reasons I loved yesterday so much, is that after about ten days, it was the first time my voice felt back to normal.

Tonight, I am doing something truly weird-- participating in a focus group! when I heard that I could make a couple hundred bucks for two hours of my time, my first instinct was "Sign me up!" I mean, that will pay for my voice lesson and a therapy session! Then I started to think...oh man. What if it involves painful medical procedures or me being forced to reveal embarrassing details about my life? So, I asked a lot of questions, believe you me. And now that I have been satisfied that it isn't going to be like that, and it is just going to be talking in a group with a "professional moderator," I can go, do my duty, take the money, and run.

Just another exciting chapter in the riveting saga I call my life.

Monday, for V-Day

Love. This song is absolutely over-flowing with it. Both the composition itself, and the interpretation.

Sunday

Yay! I realize this does not make for riveting reading...but it feels good to know I know this music better than I thought and that finallllllyyyy I am starting to get it.  Also, it would suck to get fired :)

Sorry, I had to share.  Good coachings are cause for celebrations, I think.  Pop that bottle of Cristal.

Saturday

Today was too fun. It felt great to sing again...after a week.  Then a birthday party with lots of little kids and some great adults too.  Kids have such an amazing way of reminding me to just cut the crap.  What am I bitching about that is really that important?  Seriously.

Oh, and two year olds are even more delightful when there is wine!

Happy weekend!

Friday

Back in the saddle again?

Kind of?

The flu will knock you out, people. Do not get it. And, let me just say that getting the shot didn't really seem to help me. Which is a rip off, because, despite the fact that it cost me nothing financially, emotionally...well. I am such a horrible baby that I have to psych myself up for hours to get an injection.

At any rate, the phlegm is my last remaining problem, and my gig tomorrow morning will be interesting. But this is what we pay the teachers to teach us...how to sing in adverse circumstances. How to rely fully on what we know about singing, versus how it sounds coming out-- one of the most challenging things for me, and a skill that comes in handy not just when you're sick, but in situations with bad acoustics. Takes me back to an audition in the fall that I did...not my proudest moment. In a church that was literally, and I kid you NOT, carpeted from floor to ceiling. It had to have been intentional on the part of the auditors, because it certainly did separate the men from the boys. And when I say that, I mean, it wedded me out, that's for sure. I was vocally tired from several days of rehearsing, had just sung at church, and when I opened my mouth to sing and heard nothing come back to me...oh my...I was thrown. Even in my second piece, I barely recovered.

So tomorrow, I'll put myself to the test again, still suffering PTSD from church last week when my vocal cords felt like they were flapping in the wind.

Here goes nothing.

Monday

Well, the plague has been fun. Actually, no, it hasn't. And yesterday's experience with singing on swollen vocal cords...well, I wouldn't recommend it. It felt like trying to walk with a broken leg. Everything was all floppy in there, and I couldn't get the cords to approximate and well, anything in the passaggio sounded much like a dying animal. Luckily, the first reader was very supportive, and I think it might not have been as bad to them as it sounded in my head. Maybe? Because to me, it just sounded like I was doing damage. So today, I will be quiet and continue the salt water gargling. I think nothing is as harmful to singing as coughing-- and when you are coughing and can't sleep-- it's a recipe for disaster. That codeine I had left over from my wisdom teeth debacle came in very handy last night when the robitussin didn't stop the coughing.

But enough of that.

I watched something yesterday that was amazing-- Maya Angelou's Master Class on the Oprah network. She is incredible. If only there was a way I could have a recording of that on loop in a set of earphones that were glued to my head. I think I would be a much better, more grounded person.

Saturday

Ughhhh. I had better be over this cough before tomorrow when I need to sing so that eventually I can get paid.

Friday

Singers are headcases in every sense of the word. Self-doubt, fear of failure, hypochondria, type A perfectionism (I don't know, correct me if I'm wrong, but this is mostly a soprano thing), and oh my god, do I see a lot of ENVY. I can't believe I'm saying this, but at my ripe old age I think I am FINALLY learning not to compare my career path to other people's, but it is hard. My husband is a brilliant pianist who just won a fantastic grant from the government to further his career. I love him, I live with him, I know him. He DESERVES it. He works harder than any other pianist I know. But did I have just the tiniest tinge of wondering what is wrong with my singing that no one is handing me money to help me promote myself? I have to admit I did. I've talked before, actually nagged, before about the girls I can't stand, the ones that grill me about everything I am doing, but not because they are concerned about me. Instead, I always get the sense that they are thinking "Well, if she could get a role with that, then I FOR SURE could."

The other thing I have to say before I go on is that I love singers. They are way more fun than regular people. When you have gone to singing school, you go out into the real world and think to yourself, good god these people are not exactly a laugh riot. Compared to us, they have absolutely zero personality. The problem with that is that the rest of the world finds us supremely annoying. And so freaking LOUD.

But come on, people. Ladies, gentlemen, gentlemen that wish they were ladies...etc. Can we please stop it with the whole thing where we try to make each other feel about one inch tall. Can we stop with the barbed suggestions such as "You should definitely apply for this competition-- I think you might have a good chance-- it's really small-- not many people were there last year." I mean, is that supposed to make me feel like you are trying to be helpful? I actually had someone say something like that to me recently. The sad part for me is that I always think of awesome retorts several hours AFTER the fact. Now, that isn't to say the whole system seems kind of designed to to make us suspicious of each other, envious, and critical.

On that note, and because I have probably already pissed a lot of people off, I will go on. I think it's time we stop assuming that we deserve to win competitions or get roles every time we audition for something. No, the fact that you didn't win doesn't really mean that the competition was rigged. Maybe it was, but you are not doing yourself any favors going around telling people that. Have I done it myself in a moment of weakness, or after I have been horrifically demoralized when yet another 19 year old tenor wins and I cried the whole 2.5 hours home? You better believe it. But I really do know better. I know in my heart that he probably deserved to win too. And god bless all the things I have won in the past when I may or may not have deserved them. God bless all the people I somehow convinced to pick me! So, good for the 19 year old tenor singing Don Jose. He must have struck a chord with somebody.

Okay. And now, that I have gone there, I will return to my regularly scheduled positive and uplifting bitching about my life. Happy weekend!

Thursday

Off to rehearsal! Nervous...none of the notes quite make sense yet.

Wish me luck :)

Tuesday

Wow. Intense weekend, intense yesterday, but when I got home...chicken fajitas and beer.

It's scary how much better a little thing like that can make you feel.

I have my first coaching Thursday night for a role that I am creating in a new opera! I'm nervous. It's much more artistically fulfilling, in some ways, than being the one millionth person to sing Mimi or Micaela, because I am blazing a totally new trail. Making this crazy biatch Ekaterina into whoever I think she should be... And then there is the part where the music is incredibly tricky and there is no recording to get ideas from, and help with musical cues. BUT the thing I love about this kind of a role is that the notes themselves are such a task to learn, that once you've got them, the role is pretty much memorized. It's exciting, and the music is very good.

Today, I slid to work in my cute new rubber boots, and I feel pretty glad to be alive. Could've broken my neck, actually. So it's already a fabulous day.