end of the year

I sat down for lunch, no phone, no computer, no studying, no running through arias and dreams in my head. It was tough. I didn't quite succeed. I am still coming down from this season's travels. Learning to relax and rest again. I thought that I would have time to write and chronicle my auditions this year. It was all I had in me to get through the auditions, work, and get ready for my family to show up for Christmas. I am looking forward to their arrival and I am also looking forward to the week after Christmas in which the office is closed and I have the days to myself with the evenings full of opera rehearsal. I am getting there.

I don't believe that I will come out of this fall with a young artist program to call home. I did better than last year but I still have a ways to go. I tackled the nerves issue and was focused 80% of the time with the 'oh lord, what am I doing' only coming in intermittently. Practice and perseverance is all I can give.

Back to lunch with Nat King Cole.

if only

If only I could stop long enough for my head to stop spinning, for my eyes to close and rest. I was on a plane, off a plane, in St. Louis back home. No sooner had I been at work enough to know I was busy, then I took off for Cincinnati again returned home. Two days at work trying to do the work of two weeks then to New York, back a day for a meeting or two then again to New York and Philadelphia. It has been easier to think "I want this, I will get this" while standing in front of the piano at home, knowing my bed and my partner were near at hand. But there has been a disturbance; my cat has taken to being missing the last few days. Now with the cat gone, even in cities far away, my sleep has been disturbed and my mind a bit flighty. Perhaps it is time to go home, look under some more houses for the kitty and take a break. Until Saturday that is. At least for the night. Well, perhaps for a few hours.

first audition of the season

I had my first audition of the season yesterday. After 2 hours of driving and magically finding a free parking garage tucked away under buildings and roads and between streets, I arrived an hour early. This was just enough time to change into my dress, warm up #2 to make sure the notes were moving (the real warm up was that morning at 10am) and sit quietly and read. "The Hitchhiker's Guide" seemed the reasonable if not convenient choice, it was sitting on my car seat when I left. It was quite an odd experience though to sit down outside of the auditions, begin to ponder what it was that made 'that' difference between, "they have a great voice" and "we must hire them" and then open up a chapter that was all about how completely small and insignificant we are. In fact, the total perspective machine that was discussed in the book had been known to scramble the brains of anyone unfortunate enough to sit inside of it and realize just how tiny they are. Somehow it worked for me. I was relaxed. I was so relaxed in fact, that when the accompanist began to drop measures and the right hand in places, my thoughts of total and complete fear at getting lost and not able to recover were mere thoughts. I held it together vocally and if anything, came through blazing. I'm sure there was some terror that flitted through my eyes but not so much that it caused a stir. I truly feel bad for the accompanist. What a tough position to be put into; sight reading all sorts of crazy arias for hours. It just had to be her luck that of all my arias I chose a slightly up tempo Handel aria, "Sta nell'Ircana" from Alcina. I did however go out and make an even larger copy of the music. If it helps the next accompanist even a little, it is worth it.

The second aria they called did have me a bit flustered. It was probably residual 'holy crap' adrenalin running through my system from the last piece, but I don't recall as much from the small portion of "Non piu mesta" that they asked for. I am almost wholly sure that one reason they asked to hear the beginning of that piece following the Handel was to hear my range and a higher and lower coloratura. The third page of the "Non piu" flies through two runs that encompass two very fast octaves. I can't say I was as pleased with this performance...but it is progress. I can now say that under the circumstances of an audition, I feel decent with how I performed. I can however do better - that is my total perspective for the night.

ready for take off

Things are picking up.

I have my first audition of the season this next Wednesday. It is close to home and I am looking forward to it.

Then on Friday I fly to visit my mom and hopefully pick up a waiting list audition. I will get to see her new house and surroundings. I can understand now how hard it was for her to have me move and not know where I was; it was a great unknown.

The next work week is a whopping 2 days before E and I head off to Sonoma Valley for Thanksgiving. The day after we get back I take off for another audition. Return for 1-2 days then off again to NY for one audition (waiting on 3 more).

Hopefully I will pick up an audition in Pittsburgh before heading back home for the first opera rehearsal of the season!

The excitement is already surging through my blood.

last year

was too easy.

chautauqua

I almost cried. What a relief it was to get one acceptance for an audition after all of the rejections. At least this was a company I remember having a good audition for last year, and sending a CD to this year. This implies two things: 1) From their perspective, my audition last year must have been decent 2) My CD must have shown progress or promise. The first acceptance out of the way, I can make way in my head for what is actually happening.

I picked up rental scores for the two operas I will be a chorus member in this winter. Boris will be a great experience and I ordered a recording with both the original and the traditionally performed version of the opera. I began working on the Messiah for my April job. I am quite tickled that the conductor has decided to keep the 1750's version of the alto singing "But who may abide". I remember hearing the bass from last year's production here in town and absolutely drooling over it. I have decided to add this to my list for an upcoming competition in January. I have to fill out the list with a piece for orchestra or chamber orchestra/mezzo and an operatic aria one of the two having been written after 1925. There are a few things floating around in my head and I'll have it more settled by next week. I am toying with some Mahler songs or Barber's "Dover". If I go with the Mahler, Nina's Aria would be my aria choice and if Barber makes its way onto my list, Strauss's Composer's aria.

I do love the planning and the preparation.

keep looking up

"You have to love rejection."

"I am comfortable with rejection and understand that it occurs."

"No, in this business, in order to survive, you have to love it."

What does this mean? I suppose my recent dealings with it mean that in order to fully love the art, the experience, the full process of becoming an opera singer, rejection is a part of it and thus I have got to more than accept it, I have to embrace it. Rejection is fuel, it is the hand that guides me and teaches me what more I can do, how I can better express the music. It is that which tells me my voice is strong but that I still need to work on keeping it all forward. It tells me that this is a conservative business in which I can love modern opera, but I should let the audition committee decide it they love it as well and want to hear it.

I have learned these things:

Recordings matter. I am re-recording after working on keeping my vocal support.

I will begin auditions with selections that are more conservative and be sure to do more research as to who is hearing the audition and plan my first selection accordingly.

I have more to work on, I will always have more to work on, but there is always an element of subjectivity that is in play. I will find my place.

There is no other way about it. I have to love the rejection. It has to lead me to greater things.

4

This is going to be much worse than I thought. After two rejection letters I wasn't too fazed, after all, I expected some. But four in a row; now I'm shaking a little. For posterity's sake:

San Francisco - rejection letter
Portland Opera - rejection
Glimmerglass - rejection
Florida Grand Opera - rejection

Santa Fe
Des Moines
Houston
Wolf Trap
St. Louis
Utah
Chautauqua
Central City
Minnesota
Seattle
Lake George

I still have 10 to hear from, not to mention that there will be at least 4 more programs to apply for in the winter/spring. I am starting to think I made a big mistake auditioning last year, using my appearances in front of the companies when I was unsure if I was ready. I took a risk and it did not pay off. Now that I feel so much more confident in my abilities I am feeling that I will be left without a chance to show them. But perhaps, just perhaps, ... no. The only sane thing that I can think of to do with this rejection is to collect it all and use it as fuel for my passion. I sing because I can't see my life without it. If only I could have not been able to see my life without being a reconstructive surgeon.

Chorus Girl

I had a little boost to my ego a few days ago when I received a contract in the mail for three productions as chorus. Part of me knows that the elitists would look at this thinking, "Oh honey, how quaint, how sweet," but I am full of validation for the hard work I have been doing this past year. You see, last year I auditioned and didn't receive a spot, this year I was offered three. This is a cut and dry, crystal clear example of my progress. It is always to difficult to quantify progress in singing. I can get words of encouragement from my teacher, those close to me and even myself but something like this is an unbiased opinion. On the flip side, not receiving any one contract is not a measure of progress or lack there of; try that on for size.

More specifically on the chorus girl contract, I will be getting experience singing Russian and more experience singing on stage. This will be my first time on a professional stage and it is exciting to think of what I will learn.

I did end up having to turn down one of the three productions due to a prior commitment singing another job out of town. Aside from knowing it was the right thing to do; I have a feeling it was just supposed to be that way.

mail obsessions and mountain dreams

I'm obsessing over the mail box now. The trouble I had getting my refund check for a recalled product has me nervous now that mail isn't getting to me. Of course rationally I know this isn't the case and that it has only been a week since I have sent out my audition packets.

So now the trick is to find something more productive to obsess about. I have already obsessed about my health, decided that for the next four months I will once again avoid dairy, red wine, martinis, and late nights.

I have done the clothing and shoe obsession thing and now think it would behoove me to once again obsess about shoes. Yes, something that is easy to think about, simple. This is something that I don't worry about the decision weighing heavily on success or failure.

A girl can only practice so much in a day before the opera books, magazines, dvds, cds, sheet music and scales loose their impact. Part of learning is resting; give the brain a break, relax, enjoy, life life. So, today is devoted to mi-mi-mi-mi. A bit of journaling is good to get things down and out. I'll be taking a trip to the Indian grocery store to find ingredients to experiment with (cooking is a joyful hobby of mine). Then there is my lesson which I always look forward to. I will then be going out with a girlfriend to further explore and cure my shoe and dress obsession after which it is time to go party and watch my man perform and perhaps do some good ol' fashioned dancing, finished by a night dreaming of the mountains and fall leaves.

Recording

2 hours
3 arias
$350
7 audition cds
All the Christmas gifts a girl could dream of. That is, everyone I know will be receiving a copy of yours truly of their very own for Christmas '06.

Yes, it is a good investment. Yet at a time when I am trying to save up for plane tickets and other travel expenses for trips to New York, St. Louis, San Francisco, Pittsburg, Seattle, Cincinnati, etc., it is a bit of a shock to the wallet.

I was very excited going into the recording; a little too over excited as I sometimes tend to get. It was eye opening to be so worked up and then have two hours to come to grips with the fact that I was standing in a small room with foam covering every conceivable inch of hard surfacing. I was a bit surprised I didn't have to wear some special padded suit in order to even enter. It was ridiculous. I understand the nature of recording in a studio setting but I had only ever recorded in a live room with natural acoustics. I do have to say I am still a strong fan of the 'natural' method.

Being so excited and realizing that what I was doing was not worth all the butterflies in my stomach was the greatest investment I could have received. In some ways my physical reaction to the situation was very much like my reaction before auditions except this time, I had a chance to figure out how to deal with it and perform.

So yes, the small amount I put into it in time and money and reaped big rewards in product and experience.

Stepping Up to the Block

I am scared. I suppose I am more scared this go around than last. I had my naivety to protect me last audition season. I had the unknown to fear but knowing that I once again could fail is more frightening than never having had failed. Now that I have faced passing out on an airplane, spending the night in an er before auditioning the next afternoon, you would think that I would feel stronger. I would think that I had developed internal strength. Plus, how could something like that happen again!? But it isn’t the things that are out of my control that make me nervous.

I can look at all of the work I have done this past year, know that I have improved and matured but still know how difficult the path I have chosen is. I do not regret skipping medical school and a career in surgery. I do not regret turning away from something I know I could have succeed in (in the way that I wanted to) for something that I have to take on faith that I will succeed in.

Faith is not an easy word for me. I am used to the facts, figures and science of thinking. This way of thinking can only take me so far. If I am to succeed in music, I need to have faith in myself and in those that I want to share my passions with.

While running the other night I think I metaphorically stumbled upon a tool to help me through the blood sport of opera auditions: visualize and meditate. I had been told and been trying the meditation route before yesterday but by adding a positive visualization of an audition experience - before and after - to the routine, has already seemed to help with my anxiety. It reminds me of my days on the swim team ... before every swim meet we would visualize our races; the walk up to the pool, stepping up onto the block, taking the stance, waiting for the gun, hearing the gun, pushing off from the block, the race, finishing, getting out of the pool and walking away from the pool.

Steps, there are so many more steps to the process than just the performance of the aria.

The Nerd Within

Nerd: /n3rd/noun - slang.

1. A foolish, inept, or unattractive person.
2. A person who is single-minded or accomplished in scientific or technical pursuits but is felt to be socially inept.
(American Heritage Dictionary)

Word History: The word nerd, undefined but illustrated, first appeared in 1950 in Dr. Seuss's If I Ran the Zoo: “And then, just to show them, I'll sail to Ka-Troo And Bring Back an It-Kutch a Preep and a Proo A Nerkle a Nerd and a Seersucker, too!” (The nerd is a small humanoid creature looking comically angry, like a thin, cross Chester A. Arthur.)

Nerd next appears, with a gloss, in the February 10, 1957, issue of the Glasgow, Scotland, Sunday Mail in a regular column entitled “ABC for SQUARES”: “Nerd a square, any explanation needed?” ...

The third appearance of nerd in print is back in the United States in 1970 in Current Slang: “Nurd [sic], someone with objectionable habits or traits.... An uninteresting person, a ‘dud.’”

Authorities disagree on whether the two nerdsDr. Seuss's small creature and the teenage slang term in the Glasgow Sunday Mailare the same word. Some experts claim there is no semantic connection and the identity of the words is fortuitous. Others maintain that Dr. Seuss is the true originator of nerd and that the word nerd (“comically unpleasant creature”) was picked up by the five- and six-year-olds of 1950 and passed on to their older siblings, who by 1957, as teenagers, had restricted and specified the meaning to the most comically obnoxious creature of their own class, a “square.”
(The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth EditionCopyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company.)
__________________

So, where does this leave me - where could I possibly be going with this? Yes, the 1950's/70's slang definition of Nerd still appears in dictionaries, but the more common understanding of Nerd is closer to the following definition: A person who is single-minded and accomplished in any intellectual pursuit. I have dropped socially inept largely because I see myself as a music nerd. And I of course do not consider myself socially inept - most of the time.

I recently came face to face with my nerdy-ness and learned the lesson that there is a time to embrace it and the time to trust it and let it go. Embrace it when translating languages, embrace it while doing a character study, embrace it while studying the history and style of a piece, love it in all of its glory while pouring over the music and all of the dynamic/stylistic markings left behind as clues as to its performance. But for the love of all that is holy in Opera, let it go when you perform.

There, I said it. Let it go. Allow the emotion to flow through trusting that the work has been done. The dynamics and language will come out; they have no other choice than to come through when performed with passion and understanding for what is being said...really said.

I have never felt this so strongly as when singing Nina's Aria from Pasatieri's The Seagull. In the opera, in order to survive, part of Nina lets go. She looses her human self and ascends to a plane where she believes she has become a homeless wanderer, a seagull. It took singing a 'mad' aria to pull me out of my intellect and into the emotional waters where opera becomes something truly powerful and dramatic.

The opera singer has so much to be aware of that it is easy for an intellectual mind to become obsessed with the minute details, thus loosing the beauty that each detail was intended to create. Perform in the moment, trusting that the details no longer have to be nourished, they are doing the nourishing.

Now, not only do I love nerds, but I also embrace the power of trusting in the nerd within.

One step at a time

New shoes. New dress. New resume.

I had a performance this week, for the first time in many, that provided me with a new item for my resume, and a check to put towards new shoes and a new dress for this fall's auditions. I also have a slightly new outlook. Performing isn't just what I want to do, it is what I need to do in order to stay sane. I have been dealing with a great amount of stress and anxiety related to work and personal life. It had built up to a point to where exercise or practice sessions, typically a tremendous way to meditate and escape, were rendered relatively useless. But almost instantaneously after the oboist and I finished the show, I felt my worries return to something manageable, something realistic. I still have the same anxieties, but now I can begin to deal with them.

It was really quite a fun show; Short Attention Span Chamber Music Series. There were books on Blake's artwork and his poetry displayed for the audience to explore as well as the Blake/Vaughn Williams songs performed. I was even offered another fun job because of it.

I don't quite think I can find a way to include the new job offer on my resume but it will be worth the experience, and quite entertaining. The man who hired me puts on silent movie nights in which he has the audience create the sound effects, along with a pit orchestra filled with fun instruments like an electric violin, theremin, toy pianos and the like. I would be singing from the original silent film of "The Phantom of the Opera". It sounds like some music from "Faust" and a few Schubert art songs were used. I'm sure this will be a performance to write about!

Season

This weekend has truly been a jump-start to audition season. For months I have been working away without any performances or public singing. Part of this was due to a new voice teacher...I had technique to busy myself with (smoothing out the voice top to bottom) and as this weekend proved, it was well worth the self imposed vocal solitude.

This afternoon I had my first public performance in almost a year. As luck would have it, two people who were at last year’s Met auditions were present this afternoon. Both of them had the same comment, “I heard you sing last fall, but this was such a surprise. You have come a long way, even from just a year ago.” Sweet music to my ears. There is nothing like external acknowledgment of hard earned improvement. I am feeling a bit more confident day by day.

It was also nice to sing through three of my arias, learning that I do have quite a bit more work I want to do on the Cenerentola. But, this is an aria that I feel will always want quite a bit of work. In fact, that is a large reason of why opera is so dear to my heart; the never ending process. It is a struggle, but a struggle worth participating in. It is a struggle with great rewards. It wouldn’t be nearly as profound or emotionally poignant if it didn’t require the work, the dedication, the passion, and the dream.

Mezzo(r)-Soprano

There is always that moment of disbelief and hesitation in a new coach’s or teacher’s eyes after first hearing me sing. This is not a moment of complete and utter awe at my technical and dramatic prowess mind you. Rather, one of: “Are you sure you are a mezzo?” Yes, I’m sure, and after a few more lessons, they are as well. I also am sure that I am not the only one who has been faced with this question time and time again. Having an easy top in a traditionally warm rich low fach doesn’t necessarily spell confusion. It was how I was approaching the top, and thus my musical choices that spelled c-o-n-f-u-s-i-o-n.

I would purposefully knock out an aria highlighting the easy highs and coloratura, something to the tune of Donna Elvira’s Mi tradi. My high c, is a strength. The fact that I can run through a coloratura passage that hangs around the dreaded f and f#, is a strength. What wasn’t a strength of mine was connecting the idea of both a high and low voice. Corrected technique aside, my musical choices had a large hand in the confusion.

My first year of auditioning, I fell into the same self imposed trap. I would begin with a zwischenfach (in-between) role, a role often performed by either soprano or a high mezzo-soprano. So while I thought my voice was stating, “I am a mezzo, I sound like a mezzo, even my high notes are like a mezzo’s”, my list of audition music would be screaming, “I may not know what I am, my high notes are simply second nature, perhaps I am a soprano who believes it is easier as a mezzo”. I didn’t include a solid repertoire list. It didn’t only have zwishenfach roles; it didn’t include high mezzo roles with a few zwischenfach roles. It was a bit more slap dash that that. They were arias that I sang well – regardless of what the whole role was like. So when I would introduce myself with the repertoire of both a soprano and a mezzo-soprano, I was not convincing my audience of who I am, let alone getting the point across that I know who I am - big mistake, and admittedly, not my only one.

In a blood sport like opera, where auditions can be made or

A Simple Question

Ah, the life of an almost opera singer...

That nagging question:

"So, what do you do?"

You wouldn't think that this was such a confusing question, but to tell you the truth, it always takes me a while to form an appropriate answer; and my answer tends to change based on who asked the question. If I want the conversation to be quick and dirty, I answer truthfully, "I am a Marketing Director." Unfortunately this tends to elicit a lot more interest that I usually anticipate, leading to a more lengthy discussion than I had planned. If I have a social connection to the asker and am more willing to explain myself, again, I answer truthfully, "I am an aspiring opera singer". Often I use a combination of the two; the Marketing used to offset the fact that I am barely "working" with my singing.

Most often I end up retreating into the depths of my mind, pondering the virtual circus of activities I perform weekly, trying to coherently communicate them to the person who at this point is now staring at me with the deep look of concern in their eyes.

But I honestly don't quite know how to say all the things that I am actually doing in preparation for a career in opera. They are not returning immediate results in the form of performances. They are not measurable by most people's standards. Many of them even sound like leisure activities: watch movies, read books, read magazines, go to the opera, go to concerts, sing, exercise. It is more of a lifestyle that it is a path of study. I suppose that at this stage, my career in opera is about taking the time to prepare for the moment when I do step out onto a stage.

Much of this preparation comes in the form of my many "job interviews" - the auditions. So as I embark on my second audition season, I have decided to keep record of the ins and outs of being an almost opera singer. Bare with me...this could get ugly, or more likely, dreadfully boring.