routines

What a week..... here it is, Monday again and time to start anew, but I'm still tired.

These next few weeks are the part of a new role I don't like: pounding notes, alone. There is no way around it - I have a lot of music to learn. I'm trying to stick to a daily routine of a 2-hour workout followed by a 2-hour practice session. Today's a bit different, since I scheduled a coaching to help me through some stuff I have to prepare for Saturday's gig.

Various stress-inducers float around my head all day;

- unfortunately, I've put myself in charge of The Boss' retirement card and gift on behalf of all St. Stephen musicians...because of the various retirement festivities and special mass music, my choir year isn't over for a few more weeks.

- I'm a little resentful today that after cooking for 6 hours straight on Saturday, I brought a lot of homemade food over to the rectory yesterday, only to be met with what should have been a predictable response from Tall Friend: grumble grumble, if it's healthy it must not have any taste, grumble grumble - when will I get it through my head that this is the generation that believes strongly in eggs, bacon, and sheet cake? no response from The Boss yet, so I wonder if they didn't see the card or the food, yet it would be tacky to bring it to their attention, so I will just let it go ......

- my manager is not very proactive, nor is she big on interacting in person - hence, in spite of her promise to follow up with the companies confirmed to have been at the West Coast Auditions, I have little faith that anything will happen - similar to my cooking efforts, this makes me feel futile and sad.......

I'm doing what I can to infuse fun into my life when I can. C. and I are working on our living room/entertainment center area - finishing baseboards and taking trips to Ikea. That's been fun. I'm also reading Travels with Charley, which is just a delight. I love Steinbeck's writing - I love that he is real and down-to-earth but retains an intellectual elegance, even as he's describing the banal and prosaic (how 'bout them big words?).

ends and beginnings

Today has been the official "turnover" day. With a cup of liquid ambition, I summoned up the strength to write my thank-you's, put the OSB stuff in the scrapbook, and officially close that chapter.

I am now, without a doubt, in the throes of Lucia. Okay, so I'm scared. Of failing - actually, of worse than failing - of just being okay. I sometimes wish I'd performed the role elsewhere. Because it's not only the role itself and all it means, it's also the high visibility of the company - made clear to me by the almost daily congratulations and mentions that come to me via Facebook, email, and people in the biz.

No matter, I just need to remember the following:

1. I have help. Lots of it.

2. I have sung longer (Susanna) and more difficult (Hoffmann) roles before.

3. A quarter note is still a quarter note, and I need to set aside all emotion when it comes time to just learn the damned notes.

This whole process will teach me to remain calm under pressure, and to pace myself.

May I just say: how GREAT is it to work for a professional company? Three weeks, from start to finish! And we've been given our entire schedule already. Also, TWO full orchestra dresses before the Final Dress.

I feel like Dorothy, when she first opens the door to find a world of color....

another one down...

The audition felt pretty solid... it helped to feel glamorous, in my new dress and stilettos (which, I have discovered, are GREAT for support). 'Caro nome' went like clockwork - there were some triumphs, thanks to the grounding reminders of D., and some "tricks of the trade" from S. During the following traditional "what should we hear next" mumbling, I heard them say something about Lucia, and they asked for the second (crazier) half of the Ophelia mad scene.

The auditions director) was really militant about not letting us bring water onstage, and it was unbelievably dry. I wish I'd just left the stage to get a drink, but didn't think to do that - DUMB. Felt really dried out halfway through, but I'm not sure how detectable it was - I spent a little more time on the middle-register notes when I could, to get my larynx back to balance, and I felt like I was back on solid ground for the end. I acted my tush off, of course... the staging is so built-in for me, now.

So, there we are...now I pretend to let it go, but in reality will be checking my phone for messages every 5 minutes. :)

I wish I could jump directly into Lucia, but it's my final Thursday at the church, and this particular year's end is marked with the poignancy of Th Boss' retirement. Trying to remember all the details that I should be taking care of, as choir director. Signing the big card. Rehearsing special music. Calling alumni and graduates. Cupcakes. It goes on and on.

I suppose it's a forced "transition" into the next singing project - a cleansing of the singing mind, in a way. Or maybe it's more like a "restart". Either way, I'll be glad to just move on to what's next.

raw

To wander through my daily life, and not be in touch with how I'm truly feeling, is very unlike me. Yet that is still the case, and it's making me impatient with myself.

I've been having some moments lately that give me clues, though;

1. My dear tall Friend is in the hospital recovering from cancer-related surgery. During my visit on Thursday, I observed the following:

- I suspect because he is Italian, we seem to have an unspoken understanding.... a way of communicating that is embedded in our DNA, I suppose: When I walked into his room, it seems we both fell into patterns that were at once foreign and familiar - the quick kiss and embrace, etc. It evoked memories of Nonno and the one we called 'Old Nonno'. When I thought about it later, I realized that in real life, we would never greet one another that way. But without all the trappings that establish stature and position, there was this beautiful moment of authenticity and unmasked love.

- It always amazes me how the wearing of a hospital gown and being poked with needles, reduces a person to a mere human body and its biological functions. Whenever I observe this, the child in me is shocked and afraid, while the adult is relieved (he's human! whew!).

2. During Friday's run, I hit a wall and had to walk for a while. That I got some friendly encouragement from one passing driver was already surprising and jolted me out of my reverie - and then a second car slowed down. A Dad-aged man in a Yankees sweatshirt shouted, "I'm not making fun of you, I see you all the time - I just want to ask you - why are you walking?" We laughed and he drove onward... a few seconds later he turned around and this time said, "I just want to say that I really admire your tenacity!"

As he disappeared, the dam broke and I shed tears I didn't know I had.

3. Yesterday I had a lesson with D., and DAMMIT if, in the process of my lesson, he doesn't always reveal what is truly on my heart. It stands to reason, since the voice and emotional life are one and the same... I suppose I just needed to sing in order to discover the state of things.

He was patient, as always, but observed a marked disconnect between my upper and lower bodies, and as my brain tried to clamor its way through the muck to settle on the right images for proper phonation, it was so very difficult to see my way through it clearly. We left with a promise that I'll come back on Monday and hope for a little more progress.

Moving on to the return to opera chorus last night, for the first time in 5 months: I was surprised at how many faces I was glad to see. These singer friends are gentle, they are kind. They touch, they kiss, they hug. They're transparent.

I had a tremendous cry on the way home, upon realizing that my experience in SB was largely UN-kind. I always make a deliberate effort to have no walls up when I sing, no defenses. I am me - vulnerable, genuine Angela. I believe this is what sets me apart. And I never, during those 6 weeks, put up my defenses. I don't even know how to sing with them up anymore.

The problem is, it opens me up for hurt beyond hurt when I am critiqued and picked apart and given suggestion after suggestion.

It is one thing to prepare oneself for - and to recover from - a short period of this, whether it's an hour's worth of coaching, a 5-minute audition, a voice lesson, or a typical rehearsal/performance period.

6 weeks' worth of that kind of nit-picking and hence paranoia and tension on my part, has left me feeling raw, naked and exposed to extreme weather, no armor against the wind.

Which makes me more terrified than I should be, of having to sing a big audition on Wednesday. I am just not ready.

The slightest kindness moves me to weep.

I'd say this is all a sign that I am still ME, and that this is a good thing. At this point, on Sunday morning, I think that the best thing to do is to embrace my need for love and kindness - immerse myself in it, relish it. Cry if I have to. And somehow, I will just need to sing from that place - and perhaps, that's the best place from which to sing.

disoriented

What a truly weird week. Seriously.

On the surface: I arrived home on Sunday evening, exhausted. Spent the next couple days unpacking, cleaning, doing laundry, going through the motions of "normal". Little by little, my body starts to feel back in balance again. I am still getting sleepy at the wrong times, and have a headache every morning (also subsiding, gradually). I only gained 5 lbs., which is pretty good, considering the crazy schedule and lack of a kitchen. I'm already losing it just by getting back into a routine.

Once in a while, a memory of SB comes back and I process it. I am trying not to force it, just letting it flow through me as it needs to.

There is a part of me that resents going back to piano and voice teaching, and church choirs today. But another part of me is grateful for these reminders of that which is real and tangible. Otherwise, what else would I be doing? Probably, feeling useless.

Thank God I have my West Coast audition in a week, and it is now time to focus on Lucia. Not quite today (after 6 weeks without a day off, I must have some vocal rest!), but within the week it will be time to crank up to high gear.

I'm not sure how to feel about OSB..... I suppose my deepest, darkest fear is that it meant nothing, will lead to nothing, was just a scenic route, a random exit off the freeway.

small/huge triumphs

I will say this: these programs give one a chance to get to know herself. I have discovered that I have a healthy competitive and resilient spirit in me;

The other night I suggested a 'cinco de mayo' margarita night, hoping it would reunite what has become a splintered group of young artists.

How wrong I was - if anything, that night further solidified the divisions. Perhaps due to A. the strain/stress, or because B. many people here are enjoying the escape of this experience and are sad about returning to reality, or C. many folks here are more in need of therapy than voice lessons and their comfort level is such that they are just being themselves by now - or a combination of the three: as alcohol was consumed and abused, I found myself amidst such negativity, such downright mean-spiritedness, such self-centeredness, as I had never experienced before.

I left incredibly depressed, and determined not to socialize with this group any more, for my own spirit's sake - which should be easy, given that it ends in two days. However, we still had a master class yesterday, and I was very proud of myself for my ability to put my best self forward, controlling what I could about the situation, keeping my focus, stepping up my game in the face of what are clearly resentful and jealous colleagues, and protecting myself from that which is not beautiful nor loving.

If I have learned nothing else here, this lesson is huge.

an experiment

Casting previous disappointments aside, I'm working on an experiment. It's an exercise in being lovingly manipulative when it comes to this career, setting my eye on a certain goal and seeing if I have control over the chess pieces that I think I have.

That's all for now, but I will definitely post back here when I have a sense of whether or not it worked......a

and.....scene.

Yesterday I sang what was called a "mock" audition for Mr. LA Opera. His feedback for me was this:

- attractive, steely voice with most interesting color in my middle range

- I come across as thorough, dependable, and likeable

- my choice of repertoire is well suited to my look, monochromatic in that it's very clear that I know which characters make sense for my voice

- my sound lends itself well to "desperation" and even "anger", so bring back Tytania and Pamina (!) to my audition rep (a bit confusing, since S. and I had decided Pamina is too big unless singing for a small house)

- "be careful" when offering 'Caro nome', because it implies a bigger sound and conductors/audition panelists are listening to it in terms of whether my Gilda could still be heard over the orchestra later in the opera - perhaps leave it on the list, but don't start with it.

I thought most of this made sense, and was really useful. In terms of LA Opera, I don't know what it means or how much weight yesterday's sing has for future consideration there....

Now I'm a little unsure of the right Game Plan for the WCA in a couple weeks, so the jury is still out - I've asked for several opinions, and we'll see what comes back.

Side note: apparently, this was what I must have been waiting for, deeply in my subconscious - as a signal that my body is starting to relax after yesterday's audition, I finally got my period - 2 weeks late.

the final lap

A week from today, I will be blissfully heading home.

Fresno behind us, we have a busy week: an audition, recital, masterclass, recording session, exit interview, brunch with the board, and - I'm sure - more surprises, in store.

It will be a full week, yet I am beginning to set my sights on what's ahead - the West Coast audition looms near, and listening to that will be several people I've encountered here. And it is becoming very clear that everyone is aware of Lucia, and aware of where I'm singing it.

So it's really time to step up my game, get rested and centered the best I can this week, even under these circumstances. I'm sure my young colleagues will give me a bad time for not staying up late with them, but that's the way it goes. Too much at stake for me here and now.