buoys

Three recent bolsters:

From Mom, a sweet and encouraging card with thie Maori Proverb on the front: "Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you."

From a singer friend, in response to my concerns that I won't have made enough progress in my technique and process in time for these performances: "Whatever you sounded like last September, they liked enough to hire you to do this. Even if you progress a tiny bit, you will still be better than what they are expecting."

From my Musical Grandmother, in response to my stress at receiving conflicting directions from various teachers and coaches: "In the end, when you have done all the work, it will be Angela up there, singing to us. And we are there to hear Angela. Not your teachers." She offered this anecdote: when she gave a recital at one point during her college years, an audience member said to her afterward: "I can tell that you did exactly what your teacher told you to do." GM reminded me that this is the worst 'compliment' an artist can receive.

Words to live by.

perspective...

On Thursday I had one of "those" lessons with D. They happen when A. I'm tired, or B. singing music I know too well to change old habits quickly.

In this case, since it was Lucia, the reason was A.

However, in spite of making me extremely frustrated at myself, it was incredibly helpful, in that it has brought my attention to my specific practice habits... When learning a role in the past, I have always been rather frantic about being "memorized" ASAP, because I would rather die than sing a wrong note or word in public. Silly, but true.

The irony is that I have not been as patient about really letting my throat learn, and getting my brain accustomed to having the entire phrase in mind before I inspire - hence memorizing the right way (not just intellectually, which is ultimately useless to the artist). D. assures me that there is still plenty of time, and to quote him directly: "once you let the throat have its time to learn the facts, then nothing more need be done. Sincerity is then more easily accomplished, and the phrases are ready to go from memory."

To that end, I will go back to the "lab" this weekend, using Chad's arrival home as a 'deadline' to keep me on task.

OFF-SUBJECT:

I had dinner with my grandmother the other night, and for the first time, the Adult Me met the Adult Individual Her. I believe this happens to us all, if we are lucky enough to have a relative around for this long. She listened, she was kind, she was patient, and she was positive. Perhaps it's being 84 that has mellowed her and made her more forgiving of life's surprise turns. She was even interested in my newfound vegetarianism, and we talked about cooking, altering recipes to make them vegan, etc. And for someone who grew up in a fearful, non-affectionate, and rigid household, she has come a long way if she is now able to freely say "I love you so much, and couldn't be prouder of my grand-daughter."

Speaking of life's surprise turns..... I went home with a grateful heart that night. A good reminder that Lucia just doesn't matter.

no substitute for hard work

So... yesterday D. insisted we work on Act III (the mad scene). Observations:

- This week, I've been really deliberate about NOT just singing it all and blowing my voice out. Instead, I've been setting aside a small chunk at a time, working through, being really sure of the pitches, how they feel in the throat, making decisions about ornaments and really working them in.

The only place I hadn't reached by yesterday was Act III. That this kind of work is needed, before all other aspects are built in, was made really obvious when I wasn't able to respond to D. without the distraction of ambiguity re. pitches/text etc.

- However, there was one little phrase that I'd worked really hard on, and when I sang it, he got really excited and said, "well, if you sing this way, you have us."

All of this is to say that: practice does pay off, and that is very encouraging. When I see him again tomorrow, I will have done my work on Act III and it should be a very different lesson.

hope arises

I just practiced for 2 hours. Now that I've made a list, with the most worrisome sections at the top, descending to the sections I know cold and have even performed now..... I am starting to be able to think clearly enough to organize this role in my mind.

I start and end each practice session with the mad scene cadenza. Obviously, it's easier to sing after I'm fully warmed up.

Each cadenza and decision about phrasing is becoming more solidified, some are even at the point of mindlessness (in terms of technique and intellect) - hence the beginnings of experimentation with nuance/color/characterization.

Dare I say it? This might just become fun.

I think I might just pull this off - and exceed even my expectations.

pressure cooker

It just seems Providential that, on my 32nd birthday I decided to start this blog, meant to be kept for one year, as I move through a Tunnel into a new life chapter.... and as if in a movie, the entire journey is rapidly catapulting into a frenzied finale, as I find my way through the realization of my first Lucia - under a new and almost paralyzing kind of pressure.

I wonder how the movie ends....

Wednesday's gig was a frightening yet positive cocaine-like (as I'd imagine it) adrenaline high. It was a 2-hour Question/Answer period with an audience of retired UC Berkeley staff/faculty, with performed Lucia excerpts (frantically memorized for the occasion, and staged on the spot) followed by a discussion thereof;

Standouts, in no particular order:

- I have great onstage chemistry with my cast mates. Offstage, it's rather awkward. I am intimidated by their credits, but sense that my abilities are on par with theirs.

- JK moderated, an aspect that was like a soothing balm to my wracked nerves. I am eternally indebted to him for giving this unknown soprano a chance several years ago, starting with Faust at Livermore, etc. He not only gave the audience a thorough, entertaining, and genuine presentation, asking great questions, etc - he facilitated a really important "first meeting" between the artistic staff and singers, one that may not have gone as smoothly nor revealed our true natures to each other, had we all met in another, perhaps more formal, context. Among his kind and encouraging smiles, he gently referred to me as the "diva Angela", and something in his tone indicated "I'm proud of you, kid." Really warmed my heart.

- I learned that I am not the only one concerned about the very short rehearsal period; it was helpful to know that, even for my seasoned SFO-veteran colleagues, this is an unusual situation.

- our stage director is kind, gentle, and apparently free of unnecessary ego (seems to be a trademark of this company). However, he is primarily a choreographer, and has never directed an opera before.... I am terrified of being left to my own devices for the Mad Scene!

- most questions were either directed to me, or were about me. If the whole concept of "I am the star of this production" hadn't sunk in before Wed, it certainly has now.

I spent 3 hours with D. on the Mad Scene yesterday, and still felt so anxious about it that I looked it over before bed last night. MISTAKE! I only slept for 3-4 hours.

In dealing with all of this, all I really have to go on is my own common sense about what I can do about it today. In spite of how horrible/sleep-deprived I feel, I will do a little cleaning and organizing of our living space, practice in a methodical and efficient way, exercise, and be very diligent about the crucial winding down process that I must have in order to fall asleep.

It's very, very lonely without C. here to talk through it. I haven't heard from him yet, but from reading the itinerary, I would be very surprised if he even has time to eat. It's a really crazy schedule, and having gone on a few of these wild goose chases before myself, I know how it is, and that he would email/call if he could.

It just sucks not to have talked to him on our TENTH anniversary!

TBNL (The Boss No Longer) remembered the occasion and called, though, as did G. And I will have some nice interactions with friends in the coming week, to blow off steam.

There is a LOT of steam.

today and tomorrow

C. left for the 2-week Europe tour today. And so begins the reality of "hunkering down" for me (I plan to have this daunting role in my voice and memorized by the time he comes back) ... tomorrow is yet another nerve-wracking Lucia gig, with three of us pretending to be ready to perform excerpts for an audience of retired UC Berkeley faculty. It was cute; my tenor called today for no apparent reason, I think mostly just to share our fear of this.

Had a lesson with S., which did not lessen my fear any. The wind has been quite violent and my allergies have flared up - I have to work extra hard to keep my voice on track right now. Which is unfortunate when I'm trying to remember words.

Had a visit with The Boss today.... I am happy for him as he moves on to a much-deserved retirement life, but sad that I won't have an excuse to see him as often. It is nourishment to the soul to be in the presence of one so centered and kind, who also seems to see the same qualities in me - it is a reminder that there are some places in life where I am truly "good enough".

In the meantime, back on the other side, where I am constantly fighting to be and feel "good enough":

Lucia is a major stress right now, and it's keeping my brain's "worry center" occupied. But of course it will pass, and every once in a while (like this afternoon), I get a glimpse of life after it's over. Times, they are a-changin'..... I foresee many huge changes this year. I can feel it in my bones. Am I sad? I suppose. But I think I'd be far sadder if nothing ever changed.

reflection

I feel emptied out today, like the sky after a good hard rain.

Fr. Reginald died.... the funeral was yesterday at St. A's. As usually happens when I visit Napa and see all the faces and greenery and feel the love of people who don't know the adult me.... it overcame me last night, and I had a good cry as I led my body through some cleansing yoga.

Fr. R. was specially kind, loving, part of a serene mountaintop world that is the Carmelite Monastery, part of the backdrop against which I formulated my concept of The Church and where it lives within my life.

How far away I am from that world, not realized before yesterday.

How complicated it all gets, how careful we are about expressing love to others, how busy we get with our anger, our fear, our fighting.

On top of that green and shady hill, men wear birkenstocks and talk only when there's a reason to... Jesus is the quiet friend, not to be found in statues and icons....nature has a chance to be noticed and appreciated. Silence gives way to acceptance and understanding.

I suppose such a place is particularly attractive to me at this anxious time. I can't decide whether my fear is:

- of failing - or worse yet, being "just okay" as Lucia.

OR,

- of being more powerful than I'm ready to be.

I suspect it's a little of both. I suppose that all I can control is the amount and quality of work I can do each day. I wake up, I devise a plan that fits in with all my other obligations, and I just start.

Perhaps it's in the getting up, and getting to it, that the battle is eventually won.

major detours

Weeks ago, S. had recommended I sing for Mr. Important @ SFO, since he will soon be leaving SF to be casting director at a German opera house. Unfortunately, he is terribly hard to get a hold of, and schedules things at the last minute. He emailed last night to say that he could only do 11am this morning, if I wanted to sing for him.

It took yesterday's lesson with D. to discover that this month's period has TRASHED me. I was still not in a good vocal/mental state this morning, but what could I do?...it wasn't a formal audition, and Mr. Important played for me himself, casting very judgmental glances my direction every few seconds. He basically asked me to sing everything in my binder, things I haven't sung in years, seemed unhappy with my audition rep - even asked for Lucia's aria, which I hadn't sung in front of anyone yet... and tore me to shreds for an entire hour. He is not a very nice person. I began to deflate fairly soon after we started, and never got back up. Let's just say I feel about an inch tall. After tomorrow's gig (singing the Lucia duet in front of the maestro with no rehearsal - I'm beyond frustrated), hopefully the distractions will subside and I can get focused and revved up again.

As I have finally admitted to D. and to myself:

Try as I might to pretend otherwise, I am absolutely frozen with fear about Lucia.
There is always some degree of trepidation for me at the start of a new role, but in past productions I have had the luxury of time that comes with a mediocre company's tendency to over-rehearse...I'm not sure how to recreate this assuredness on my own. One can only practice at home alone so much. I'm starting to feel crazy - oh, the irony. It's amazing how healthy one has to be to approach a mad scene.

However, through my daze, I have made an important discovery about the character for Lucia - and her inspiration comes from a 14-year-old student of C's. She is the exact kind of human I need to channel.

Another distraction - this week, a completely bizarre and mind-boggling offer came out of the West Coast Auditions: Constanze? Really?

I decided to say yes, but because of what I want to learn for myself, not because it's the ideal role for me. And both BV and S. think it's a good idea. D. is, as always, very protective of my voice, so he's less enthusiastic. But he will help me sing it as me, not as an imitation of someone else.

They wanted an answer by today - what a horrible time to have to make a decision like that. I hope I don't regret it later....

I thanked D., as always, for his patience. Singers are such a freakin' mess.