Not about Cornelius Reid. Tomorrow.

I like Alex Ross's New Yorker piece on Cavalli. After having performed in an abridged Calisto, I think I have a better appreciation for him than I once did -- though when I think of early opera, I still immediately go to my much-beloved Ulisse.

But, keeping this short, Ellen Rosand's book that Ross recommends is available, in what looks to be complete form, online at escholarsip.

voice vs. package

I've been thinking about the general sneer about how the Met is no longer a Stimmehaus (and the general moaning about why this is the death of opera).

What crystallized it for me was reading a review in Record Review (? is that what it's called? I have no clear recollection one way or another, but it was one of those recording review mags) of the DVD recording of the M22 Nozze di Figaro.

It's actually a very unusual take on the opera -- Harnoncourt takes some very non-traditional tempi (the overture isn't at lightning speed and even sounds grand -- Deh vieni is sung at a rolling, waving clip), but I think it really works. The production also highlights a lot of ambiguity. In a lot of ways, the archetypal characters are not so easily divided between "good" and "bad" and the interactions are much more complex as a result. One line of the review really stood out for me, and I'm paraphrasing. "It turns out that Susanna and the Count really *are* carrying on an affair, and this makes the Countess-Susanna friendship hypocritical."

For many, Susanna or the Countess is the "hero" of the opera, generally seen as unreproachable in behavior and demeanor. (Aside from that little classist line that Rosina sings.) As such, it can be hard to see such a beloved character as having any sort of culpability. I think that in more recent times, this has been challenged. The whole Rosina-Cherubino attraction has been played up more overtly (and with less godmother-godchild overtones), which I think still makes people uncomfortable, despite undeniable support within the source text. So, who's to say that Susanna is not completely conflicted about the Count?

Note that I don't go so far as to believe that Susanna and the Count actually are carrying on a love affair, exactly. My sense of this production is more that Susanna has tried to keep a line in the sand, but refusing a nobleman (in whose employ she is) isn't exactly something that she can do outright. What highlights and underlines is that she isn't sure that she *wants* to refuse him as completely as she could.

Ultimately, her feelings/sense of loyalty to *both* Figaro and Rosina take precedence, leading up to the glorious finale of the opera. But, it's an open enough question which, I think, humanizes Susanna far more than the traditional pert, sparkling virtuous everywoman whose only fault is delighting in verbally scratching Marcellina.

Further, Harnoncourt's conception of the Count's and Susanna's relationship stems from his contention that the only love duet that is sung during the opera is between these two characters. I think it's a debatable point -- but the very fact that it *is* debatable makes it interesting. For once, it gives a new kind of dramatic explanation for why Susanna answers "incorrectly" to the Count's blandishmens so many times (i.e., aside from musical symmetry and structure).

The larger picture is what, then? The larger picture for me is encapsulated in what constitutes acting. I've actually been really entranced with Bando Tamasaburo, the kabuki actor/dancer. What's interesting is that in this particular art form, there is no difference between the two arts, whereas this is most certainly the case in the western tradition. A statement such as "I don't think you can act without dancing" wouldn't really fly.

I think, in a lot of ways, dance and acting are each poorer if they're considered strictly separate. In a similar way, I think that to strip out the possibility of performance transcendence on the operatic stage by focusing exclusively on the voice doesn't end up serving the dramatic form. Concert performances of stage works would be an option, as would a totally different, non-dramatic repertoire. But unless a voice is so jaw-droppingly special (and how many of them are there), there seems little point cutting out certain effectivenesses as a performer simply because they seem "secondary." Which is why I really can't fathom what it is that the noisy detractors about Gelb at the Met really want. I can certainly understand their worry -- after all, I do think that there's something to be said about actually knowing how to sing before putting yourself on the stage, but I think that a willingness to consider more things than just singing as integral to an operatic artist is generally a positive and healthy direction for the art form.

in which alex digresses a lot

Woo! Ok, so as promised over at MFI, I am posting about the DVD of Strauss' Die Frau ohne Schatten conducted by Sawallisch and recorded at the Aichi Prefectural Art Theater in Nagoya, Japan in 1992.

Some small opening notes. It's on 2 DVDs split with Act 1 on the first disc, the remaining two acts on disc 2. No bonuses, I believe (too lazy to check? check). The booklet has a small little essay on the development of the production between the Bavarian State Opera and the Japanese stage director Ichikawa Ennosuke. The booklet also contains some interesting pictures (they are better lit than screen captures from the DVD would be), including one of Barak holding a sword, which they've made look like a lightsaber! The lightsaber and the vaguely desert-nomad outfit that Barak and sein Weib wear definitely make it look George Lucas-related. tee hee!

It's pretty clear from the cover and box materials that this is (at least partially) an East Asia/Japanese take on the production. Sort of taking the "Asian Fairytale" descriptor of the libretto at face value. I'm certainly not all that well-versed enough in it all to really say one way or another. Astrid Varnay makes a point in her autobiography that it has distinctly seemed more Western than Eastern, given the focus on childbearing and integration in the body, whereas Eastern philosophies, in her view, seem to put a premium on liberation from the exigencies of the body. Which would be true for the strains of Buddhism that I am familiar with. If anything, the libretto of Frau seems to be more Taoist if it is indeed Eastern. (I should probably look into this -- there definitely is a deity/mortal separation among other things.)

It seems to me that when discussing Frau, there seems to be 4 big questions:

1) Complete? Cut? Which cuts?

2) How's the conducting?

3) The production?

4) How's the singing?

To this I would add:

5) How are the 5 protagonists portrayed?

(This would prolly fall under production if you're reeeally picky, but I think it's a big enough subset that it merits a separate question.)

Here is the cliff's notes version:

1) Cut. Supposedly 20 minutes (cf. Robert Levine's review). No, I don't know which 20, sadly, though Straussmonster might know! :)

2) AMAZING. Like I could not have imagined. I don't know how this stacks up against his studio, but it's gloriously fluid conducting on this DVD.

3) It mostly works. The kabuki/normal person divide is both visually interesting and symbolically arresting. There are no big technological elements (unlike the Samson and Dalila temple non-implosion from the Moshinsky production), so everything works and works well (aside from the golden fountain, which falls flat). Phil Gossett would approve of the fast scene changes and quick on/off stage magic summons (i.e., Young (Naked, Unsinging) Man).

4) The 5 principals are all competent, but Marjana Lipovsek is a nuclear warhead.

5) This is going to take repeated viewings for me to get all the nuances, or lack thereof. The problem is that most of the principals seem to be so hard-pressed for the singing that they can't really do much with their phrasing and character-building. One of the best analyses that I've read envisions this as a kind of warped Cosi fan tutte, where the two lover-couples are actually taught how to be more whole human beings, i.e., their current states all lack something. The trick is how to portray that and maintain sympathy.

Longer answer to #4:

Luana De Vol is the Empress and copes well with the demands. She has her moments, particularly in certain vaults into held top notes. Given enough prep time, she can handle it beautifully. The problem is that this happens only a couple times in the score. The upper middle is much less beautiful and very poor of overtones. She's dramatically committed but her vocal technique precludes facial expression and she has no clue how to put attention into her body, so next to Marjana Lipovsek, she looks like a flopping, ineffectual doll.

Here's a playlist with kabuki actor Tamasaburo, who specializes in playing women's roles, an onnagata.

Marjana Lipovsek as the Nurse is comfortable enough with the vocal demands of the role that she alone really presents a character. The only trouble is that the Nurse doesn't seem to have quite as many interpretive challenges as the 4 lovers. To be sure, there are mercurial mood changes, and Lipovsek is right there with them. There just doesn't seem to be much more than (omg omg omg, humans! smelly evil filthy things. we must wash our handses of their filth. scrub scrub scrub). I think there is probably something here about where to let the other shoe, so to speak, drop when the crazy OCD scrubbing comes to the fore.

Janis Martin sings the Farbering with a lighter tone than De Vol's, but more piercing. I would almost say she seems a better fit for the Empress, except that the higher tones aren't terribly comfortable, and she's hard pressed to pull several together as a phrase when required. The Dyer's Wife as a character seems really hard to deal with. This is what a famous proponent has to say in her memoirs (which I just recently bought as the english translation is relatively new!):

One had to be very cuatious playing the Dyer's Wife opposite [Walter] Berry; even Strauss saw her as a battle-ax! ... As Berry made his Barak the most pitiable, love-hungry and henpecked husband you could imagine, it was not necessary to make the wife so coldhearted. In my opinion, Barak is not so pitiful. I see him more as a pasha who wants nothing more from his wife than the satisfaction of his lust whenever he is in the mood. He has absolutely no understanding for his wife's dreams of romance and a better life. She has a roof over her head and food -- what more does she need? Day in and day out she is slave to his three lazy brothers who are constantly underfoot in their shabby hut; Barak, unmoved, looks the othe rway while they try to grope his wife. In her desperation and loneliness she sends out signals meant to make Barak jealous. And he becomes jealous, which is actually an expression of his bruised ego. The Dyer's Wife loves her husband and down deep she longs for the fulfillment of their love as much as he. But in the dreariness of everyday life, they cannot find a way to one another. All this must be kept in mind when Berry is performing Barak. Otherwise, there is the danger of the wife coming off as a real shrew.

Martin, sadly, didn't quite hew together some sort of character that you could sympathize with or whose actions you could rationalize, particularly with some of the quicksilver mood changes (e.g., sleeping draught shenanigans where she says, BAH YOU OAF...wait, who told you to drug my husband? OMG WAKE UP. Oh, now you're up. Butthead).

Alan Titus was merely competent. I got bored watching him. Barak is boring. But a dull-sounding, non-pingy Barak is even more boring. Meh.

Peter Seiffert has the unenviable job of singing the Emperor. But man is his costume cool. The arrows really make the costume. I don't know if it's because he's a dramatic woodblock or because the costume plus the ridiculous tessitura, but he moves like he's got no joints. The singing is mostly on the exciting side of precarious. At least it's pingy!

There you have it. I'm glad I bought it, though. Sawallisch's conducting is kind of a revelation. The really sticky orchestral masses clarify themselves and make sense. Even the choral voices (unborn children, the women slaves during the first Farberin transformation) sound magical. No small trick. The production, too, aside from being a little murky, but that might have to do with watching this on a laptop from a distance, is really beautiful and works smoothly. There are no hiccups amongst the cast or crew -- everyone knows that they're doing. And if their limitations are greater than some of the other proponents, they do their limitations justice.

Maybe I'll follow some of this up in a later post. Maybe :)

raspberries?

One of the first times I heard the name Dorothea Röschmann was over at MFI where he describes the voice as "raspberry purée."

I'm having trouble pulling my feelings together about this singer. I think there are some rather prescient musical ideas in the singing I've heard her do (almost completely restricted to Pamina - but I think I'm going to pick up the M22 Nozze, so I'll see what she does with Contessa Almaviva), but I always get the sense that phrases are...not exactly chopped, but a little abrogated. Like they're rounded off too soon. It's like the mirror-image of the Kasarova problem, where the phrase peters out before the end.

So I'm listening to the Abbado Zauberflote and after she sings Pamina's suicide scene, I thought...well, how about a comparison?

Röschmann (cond. Fischer, Paris Opera, 2000)


Popp (cond. Haitink, rec. 1987?)


Battle (cond. Levin, Met 1991)


Hmmm, there are a couple others on youtube but it seems kind of odd. I really wish there was a post somewhere of Malin Hartelius singing this.

For reference, this is her Ach, ich fuhls


Oh whoah, and her Konstanze (embedding disabled, sorry!)

perspective

Ok, so it should be no surprise that I have difficulties with Die Zauberflote. Very briefly, I find it difficult to square the problematic things that I perceive in the libretto with general critical reception/appreciation of the music.

On the one hand, I realize that my anxieties are a product of ahistorical forces, and that if it were possible for me to experience the work in its time, I probably would have a different perspective. But, that's just impossible, and to pretend to be able to cast off the years of intervening history and concomitant changes in thought would be disingenuous, I think.

So what to do? I actually think it's a disservice to gloss over the difficulties and say that "well, in Mozart's time..." If the music is to be continually played *outside* Mozart's time, there should be some sort of rationale that does justice to its difficulties.

I've been reading these two books, each of which dedicate chapters and many pages to discussing Die Zauberflote, dealing with gender anxiety (which is a large source of the unease with Zauberflote).



I'm still not quite sure I'm as well-equipped critically to fully understand all the references cited, but the books have been very informative so far. I'm in the process of gleaning more in closer reads (that is, because I can't find my Fux book to do counterpoint exercises -- I hope I don't have to buy that one again!).

In any case, gender anxiety, particularly in opera/classical music (which is still weirdly male-dominated and baldly stated as a positive). Also, see the numerous threads on usenet (e.g., rec.music.opera) where many posters cannot wrap their heads around a woman playing Julius Caesar. What's even more bizarre is that they have accepted that the role shouldn't be sung transposed; instead they want a counter-tenor because it's more "masculine."

I dunno. I find wee countertenors a little hard-pressed to sound more masculine than Ewa Podles (not a "male" role, but seriously):




In any case, I've also been reading the usenet posts of Piotr Kaminski, who, along with other posters like Simon Roberts, have really interesting critical ideas.

Based on suggestions, I might be acquiring new Zauberflotes. In the meantime, enjoy this little youtube of Pamina's "suicide scene." I first thought the visual was a little bland and vaguely qbert, but the play with perspective is incredibly telling, and I think really fits with the more complicated aspects of Zauberflote-in-modern-times as well as the specific dramatic scene. yay for animation.



p.s. I'm sure you can tell who sings Pamina!

....italianate?

Promise I'll write about opera/Nordic Voices and why I think I might be more interested in that kind of performance than necessarily theatrical work... hmmm. But for now, I want to share the Libera me from Verdi's Requiem as sung by Margaret Price and conducted by Lovro von Matacic with the Zagreb Philharmonic in 1979. I didn't really expect Price to sound quite like this, so it was very much a surprise.

as they say: Bada-bing!

Edit: made changes to the XML file so now it PLAYS, yay! :)

damn

I totally thought I had shared this. Bah. Better late than never.

Jacqueline Du Pre!




Arleen Auger!

rub tummy, pat head, chew gum, walk briskly...

some thoughts to put on paper. I had just realized that in some of my post-audition vocal "noodling" and "vacationing," I definitely had stopped focusing on at least one part of the important things I picked up with my mom during winter vocal bootcamp^TM.

It didn't really dawn on me until I got to my lesson with prospective teacher #3. Interestingly enough, right away he wanted to try out some different approaches to the necessary registration event for upper register singing. It's not exactly something I would have figured would have made for a good lesson in that it's not something that would likely come together, but at the same time, it's a pretty good test case in a lot of ways (lord knows I need help on this), since it's a somewhat complicated objective to communicate between teacher and student. And, truth be told, success in a short amount of time is usually just gravy and being immediately swayed by that can be a little bit of a non-starter. Still, I was still surprised that we were doing this. It was also interesting that he kept switching approaches on me -- in a way that seemed to be designed to keep me from "getting" the exercise and hence, keeping the responses of the vocal mechanism as "spontaneous" as possible. At least, that would be the positive way of looking at it. (omg, sidebar, can we talk about how I had a serious geeky moment thinking about how P.T.#3 was talking about modalities in describing relaxed vs. lazy and energized vs. tense? I totally had some geekgasm while thinking about it.)

Aaaanyway, what's interesting is that I've already picked up some really interesting things from all three of my lessons, so that's pretty amazing right then and there. From P.T.#1, I definitely focused on allowing my vibrato to come through. Very related to a lesson with a previous new york teacher, when the vibrato is there (and I focus on having it start as soon as I produce sound), the vocal mechanism will be working efficiently. From P.T.#3, we discussed another pat the head, rub the tummy split: vowel dark but tone bright. I hadn't even thought about it like that before. When I was working with my mother, we were definitely trying to get that, but just describing it as two separate sound qualities (vowel vs. tone) definitely help put another dimension of ring to the sound. (Incidentally, this also reminded me that I need to be mindful of the space and the general acoustical resonance I make for each note -- it's not yet habitual -- I was definitely right in thinking that my sound was smaller than I remembered it.) From P.T.#2, there's just a lot of experience going on, but it's always filtered through music and expression, which makes a lot more sense to me anyway. That's how I want to study! (I just have to make sure that this doesn't screw me over technically as a by-product.)

Now I just have to sort out my finances, which are rapidly coming together.

I had never thought I'd really come to like Birgit Nilsson's singing as much as I have recently, and I think it has to do with a lot of youtube postings which show more of the voice and what I think must be a better representation of experiencing it live than many of the other recorded media I am familiar with. As recorded, her voice can seem devoid of legato and lacking the in-person soar of the sound, it can sound a bit dowdy. Certainly not as italianate as the following youtube shows (though still not 100% idiomatic, it's certainly not at all a bad shot!)



I aspire to be more involved, and I definitely aspire to have better coloratura and legato, but for technical assurance and pacing, there really is no better role model, I think.

But I still would want to be the baritone Teresa Stratas!

money money money!

Been awhile! Whew. It's been a whirlwind couple of days. In between meetings with prospective teachers, financial aid, and trying to draft up a proper appeal for more money (!!), I've managed to duck away to visit my friend in Durham in the middle of her Doctorate in English.

I've included an edited version of the letter I sent to the appeals committee, because it's something that might be of use for others. When I was drafting this up, I distinctly remember thanking the time I've spent working so closely with my boss. She's the chair of the international department of a global law firm, a former Clinton appointee with ranking of Ambassador, etc., and it's been pretty informative to work with her on matters as far-ranging as strategic advocacy before the Bush Administration and Congress to personal notes and communications. Of course, I had a little bit of help editing it and putting it together, too! (And no less than people like a Columbia law student friend and aforementioned English doctoral candidate.)

In any event, I've got a looong, early day tomorrow, so I'll leave it at that. Oh, and Janet Baker singing her face off:

Dear [scholarship committee person],

I write in appeal to the scholarship committee to reconsider the level of my financial award. I have met and spoken with [awesomely supportive peeps] on the faculty who support my appeal. As I am financially independent, I have demonstrated need for financial assistance. Even with my current plans to work while attending school, the financial award from Peabody will not be enough for me to make the most of this wonderful opportunity.

I understand that such an award must be based on merit and talent rather than strictly on need. I further understand that the scores awarded during auditions form the basis of scholarship calculations. However, having briefly worked with me, [aforementioned awesome teacher peeps] of the voice faculty are willing to share their opinions about my promise which may not be apparent from the scores I received for my audition.

Because I have just recently switched from the Performer's Certificate to the Bachelor of Music program, my information about my financial award may not be up to date. Currently, the level of my financial aid totals $11,5000 per academic year, about half of which consists of loans. $4,000 per year is from a Peabody grant. Meeting the $45,000 per year projected cost of attendance with a financial award of just over a fourth of the total expected cost is a daunting prospect, especially as I will not be receiving financial assistance from my parents.

As part of my financial plan for attending Peabody, I intend to continue working at my current place of employment during the weekends on a flexible basis. At my current pay scale and assuming 16 hour work weeks for 35 weeks during the academic year, I would earn approximately $12,700 before tax, all of which would go towards the estimated $45,000 cost of attendance. Coupled with my current $11,500 financial aid award from Peabody, I still have need for roughly $20,000 more per year. For your reference, I have also attached the FAFSA report I filed which estimates my financial contribution as $10,726 resulting in a remaining need of $22,774 after taking into account my current financial award.

Based on my conversations with faculty and my experience of the application process, Peabody is a wonderfully nurturing school, and I think that it offers the best environment for a candidate like me to develop. I would very much like to attend, and so I request that you favorably consider my appeal for scholarship on the grounds of my demonstrated financial need, my plans to significantly contribute towards the cost of attendance, and the support of [super coolio teacher peeps].

Thank you for your time and consideration. I would be happy to provide any additional information, answer any of your questions (cell: [555-I-AM-COOL]; email: [ohrly@totallyawesome.net]), or meet with you at your convenience.

Yours sincerely,
[Me]

like...whoah

Had a good weekend, but more importantly, have you seen this?? You might have to turn the volume way up since the gain of the recording is pretty low, but she is most definitely audible against the texture of the opera.

So without further ado, this is Julia Varady singing Abigaille in Paris in 1995.



And in case you missed it, you can hear (among other things) Ms. Varady sing this same excerpt, except live in Munich, here.

Bada bing!

nothing substantive yet...

The little corner of the blogosphere that I frequent seems to really hate the Aegyptische Helena production that's at the Met right now. Not having seen the production itself, I can't really comment, but from the pictures, it looks like something I could probably get into (though the libretto still really escapes my interest on some basic level).

Obviously, I have some inkling about things that I like, but just as obviously, there are quite a few things that I haven't explored. One I hope to explore is what it's like actually participating in these types of things. As someone who (apparently, because I don't really think so) makes rather unusual associations between things, and also as someone who is constantly engaged in taking stuff apart and putting it back together (figuratively, usually), I think I appreciate things which do not and do not pretend to make rational sense.

I'm more apt to accept a sincere "I just feel that this is the way this must be" as opposed a long string of logic-speak designed to tell me what I "want" to hear, which also means that I think I have a more highly developed appreciation for da-da and surrealism than most.

The long wind-up being that I don't really know what I think about regietheater, but I suspect that I'd probably dig the Helena production on some level because it looks wacky and madcap in this no-holds barred kind of way. It's also to butter you, the reader, up for a stunningly sung Piangero.

It's delivered by soprano Inger Dam-Jensen (1993 Cardiff Singer of the World winner) and one of my favorites on the "20 years of Cardiff Singer of the World" DVD set. I'm kind of curious as to why she's not better known here (or even in general - a google search turns up not so much information). I get that I might have weird tastes that cut across a lot of ground (like, why is Malin Hartelius not the next big thing? She has stage presence and charm like they were birthrights), but still. Anyhow, she's singing her face off (since the 93 footage from Cardiff Singer, her voice seems to have thickened and filled in *beautifully*) wearing a bald cap and shiny black pleather(?). If that's not your kind of thing, closer your eyes or work in another window, but I, myself, am kind of intrigued....

hodge podge

I've kind of been laying low recently while waiting to hear back from the music schools I applied to. Well, the ones where the decision is not already apparent, anyway, hee hee.

The reason for this is that the process was a personal weed-out challenge as well. After many discussions with my mother (Curtis-trained, herself), we decided that it would be best to put some sort of time limit on pursuing music as a primary means of earning a living, i.e., neither of us really wanted me to be trying for like ages. So the idea was to apply to a lot of selective programs, not only to get the best instruction (theoretically) should I get in, but also to see if people thought I had the goods to "make it" in this field. So it's entirely possible that I could be searching for another field come April -- hence general reticence.

That's why in the meantime, I've been busying myself crocheting. Yes, crocheting! I evidently have inherited the "serial hobbyist" gene from my mother. In terms of crafts-type activities, I usually pick them up as a result of wanting things for myself: ("I want pumpkin pie...so I'll learn to make it!"). So I found this post about a moebius scarf and then another post about a certain crochet stitch. BINGO. New project. Currently, I've been at it for 3 days, and I've already passed 3 feet of scarf. Tomorrow, I should be able to stitch the seam together and make myself a moebius scarf. I'm excited!

Of course, during all of this, I'm still singing (though currently have a bear of a sore throat) and oddly enough, I think I have another breakthrough in the works. I've been very aware of how my larynx does funny things, and how I've gotten use to it. Lately, I've been trying to focus on it more and more, particularly in my speaking voice, which is "unnaturally" high for the range in which I sing. This discovery came about while I was fiddling with vowels while walking on the way to work. I had noticed that my high notes tended to come with...not spreading, per se, but the way my face felt as I went for notes, say high g and higher, was distinctly different from the approach there. So I thought, well, ok - so if I avoid the sensation of spreading (which is, indeed, quite close) but adopt the feeling of two horizontal points spaced the width of my face apart, what happens?

It turns out that the larynx tends to stay right put. Incidentally, the is the same feeling (in my face) when I smile. It feels much more horizontal to me than a vertical lift of the "fauces" or zygomatic arch. In any event, this has been an aid not only in purifying and raising the troublesome eee and oooo vowels, it's helped to clean up the ah vowel and give it some more resonance. I'm going to have to fiddle with this a little bit more, but I feel it's on a pretty good track.

Of course you didn't think I would abandon my scouring of teh internets, did you? Here are two lovely youtube playlists:

1) Rehearsal footage of Dawn Upshaw preparing the role of the Angel in Messiaen's St. Francois d'Assise.



2) Pilar Lorengar singing two of Donna Elvira's arias. (If any of you have been turned off by her prominent vibrato as recorded, give these a listen. In the house, she must have been something else. Also, my sense is that my high notes (when I finally straighten them out) will probably be harmonically structured similarly to her high notes -- which I am totally stoked about!)

Sarah Caldwell Speaks

I was listening to past programs on BBC Radio 3 and thought I'd listen to the previous Saturday Met opera quiz (at this time, it was during the Meistersinger bcast). At one point, the participants were asked to discuss opera productions, and one of them waxed poetic (in one of the more interesting Boston accents) about Sarah Caldwell.

Now, this name wasn't unfamiliar to me, but it was until this mention, the links at Alex Ross, and some further reading, including a Time cover story that I got a better understanding of the magnitude of what she accomplished. In any case, here is a roughly hour-length talk + Q&A that Caldwell gave at the Smithsonian Associates in WDC in 1995. I particularly like her talk about this Russian orchestra she was associated with in the Ural Mountains, and their musical fearlessness (I must now investigate Gubaidulina).

in which i don't talk (much) about auditions

I'm done with auditions! Aside from a brief note that finishing felt somewhat anticlimactic and has given me quite a lot to think about, I think I'll save that for a later post when I have the benefit of more time to let it stew.

Nah, this post will be about my previously promised thoughts on Onegin and Lohengrin!

1. What I really appreciate about how the last scene is structured is how it presents its version of great unrequited love. The way I read it, at least, love between Onegin and Tatyana is not possible and it never was possible. Tatyana has come to understand this finally, but what produces the heartbreak is that Onegin does not understand. The fact that Tatyana of Act III could have been happy with Onegin of Act I is irrelevant since those two people don't and cannot meet. I wonder if there's any interesting way to point out this little detail of the opera that really makes the work resonate for me.


2. For Lohengrin -- I think I could really get behind a production that has a black swan, e.g. black instead of white color scheme for Lohengrin. I think it would do interesting things to general assumptions about color roles and representations.

Now to have some dinner!

ONE(c)GIN

I was going to write more thoughts on a central epiphany I had about the dramatic construction of Onegin, but I have run out of time. I gotta dress and catch an early flight to Boston for my NEC audition today. WOO!

Assuming the upper voice is doing well (it has been splendid these past couple days), I'm hoping to offer my complete audition repertoire list. It'll give me a chance, maybe, to sing Avant de quitter in a slightly less pressurized condition than at Curtis at the end of the week.

Alrighty - gotta ship out. I'm clearly not going to get dressed unless I do it myself. (oh how hard it is to get decent help these days...)

septuagenarian huddle

It is about an hour and a half after the end of the Onegin moviecast that I attended. Lots and lots of septu-, octo-, sex-agenarians, which is to be expected. Except a lot of them were super mean/self-absorbed sons of bitches.

Thankfully, I only really had to deal with them while filing in and out and milling about during intermission. The problem with opera at matinee, in my experience, is that it can draw a certain crowd of those who don't really have developed aesthetics when it comes to opera yet talk as if they do. And talk, talk, talk, they do. Of course, it doesn't help that I was having an attack of misanthropy concurrently.

The moviecast seems like it's been really successful. The particular theater (or perhaps even the broadcast equipment?) seemed to have difficulty rendering bright incandescent light, issuing forth instead a sickly, pallid yet neon green. It's a shame, since it's obvious how much of the sets' beauty depends on subtle shadings of color and light.

Still, it was worth it. All of the principals have voices that are loved by broadcast sound equipment. They also all sang very well. Certainly not faultless, but really quite good. This is the best yet that I've heard Fleming sing -- it's so much less self-indulgent than other outings, and she always clearly directs the flow of the line. Several theories as to why this is the case: 1) she has heard and taken to heart criticisms of sonic wallowing; 2) Gergiev's conducting has had its impact in halting her sometimes aimless vocal beauty tricks; and/or 3) During the intermission interview, she had mentioned to Sills that she had first performed Tatiana when "too young." Perhaps a kernel of learning it so early, before some of her performance tics became ubiquitous, has innoculated her reading of the role somewhat.

I was going to finish the post with a youtube video of Mark Reizen singing Prince Gremin's aria at age 90, but it seems to have disappeared. Boo.

Oh wait! it's a google video! and posted by the Queen herself, La Cieca!

whilst listening to sirius

Tuned in to the Met bcast of Simon Boccanegra and while Rebecca Paller (who talks in that stoned-sounding yet articulate way some do) is chatting with Margaret Juntwait, looking at pictures of Thomas Hampson.

Then it hits me -- I have, what they call in the vernacular, a daddy fetish. Salt and pepper hair, more mature build, facial scruffiness - it's all kind of there. Everything except the my being submissive part (ha).

Huh, things you learn.

floridity is the ticket?

I'm really digging the oratorio pieces that I am currently working on (See the Raging Flames Arise from Handel's Joshua, and two of Raphael's arias from Die Schoepfung). They're florid (which is not something included in the other pieces I'm preparing or have in my back pocket -- and for good reason) and due to (I think) a better understanding of my larynx and the florid passagework I've been doing with "vien diletto" exercises, my ability to hack the fioritura is now at an unprecedented level of comfort.

Upward scales, downward scales, stepwise passages, arpeggiated ascending and descending series -- they're all sung with a comfort I would *never* have thought possible, and with a line and resonance that is really satisfying. In light of this, I think I should include something florid in my audition selection, simply because florid baritones don't seem to be everywhere -- a quick sampling of baritones singing 'Dunque io son' sound pretty appalling from a florid standpoint. And frankly, if the beauty of my voice itself cannot carry the day, it would seem that I have to show that I have more to offer.

Perhaps related to this, I think I'm discovering how to texture the registration that higher tones are still hooked into the voice, but a lighter resonance handles the actual "volume" or carrying power. However, while the upper reaches of the voice (say, high G to C) are stabilizing (I have a high C more often now, heh, even if my teacher says she wouldn't pay to hear it -- hee hee! is that a challenge?!), starting on the note itself is somewhat treacherous and prone to tightening, so I still have a lot to figure out about how to sing that last "O, roi des cieux" from 'Avant de quitter.'

I think watching Hvorostovsky in concert here might be of use (then again, I might not have any idea how he does it...). At least my understanding of the instrument itself is improving -- I'm able to hear more clearly what's going on registration-wise when he goes for those high notes.



The other thing that I'm really liking about the oratorio arias (especially in Raphael's Rollend in schaumenden Wellen) is that they tap into something 'spiritual' (though that's an incredibly hokey word with all of these associations that I don't wish to dredge up).

A friend of mine who was visiting this weekend and I had this discussion (across many different conversations). Essentially -- ethics requires belief in *something* - requires faith in something that need not be religion (the organized versions thereof having their own rituals and codings). Given that, most, if not all people have faith -- it's just a question of faith in what. Faith in science? Faith in people? Faith in God? The act of believing is universal (and if you read Animals in Translation, the author also mentions this obliquely and ties it in in a more ... not scientific, but more reasoned way) -- we all can't agree on what we should be believing. So, despite my disavowal of deities, I do, in fact, have faith. What I would call it, I'm not sure -- but I have faith that humanity/life of humanity is fundamentally worthy of concern or attention. And this faith expresses itself in a way that I think people call 'spirituality' and when I sing with the voice of Raphael (as envisioned by Haydn) about a limpid brook, gliding and purling through rolling vales, there's something that taps at that faith. Tugs it gently, and something special happens to my experience of musicmaking.

Maybe it's solipsistic and self-indulgent, but in recent practices I have lingered on that top D ("Leise"), my voice finally able to float and spin that note without noticeable effort. It's a beautiful feeling.

And I think I'm finally developing a faith that I *am* suited to singing and musicmaking (which I separate from being able to make a career of it). Further, I had an epiphany about what this was all about. Practicing in a more dedicated manner has been wonderful. I love it -- the discipline, the habit, the creativity, the teaching I am giving myself. It's really pushed the point home that I will mostly likely sing and take lessons for the rest of my adult life, regardless of whether or not I'm accepted to school or can make a career of singing.

The belief in myself as a musician has also clarified and separated what I dream about and what attainable goals I set for myself.

• Dream: to support myself/family through a career in music
• Goal: to seek and achieve 'mastery' of my vocal technique

This rethinking has also lessened the pressure of the looming auditions, but I still have a looong way to go and a lot of work before I'm done.

playlist of more nuts

More music to listen to for inspiration whilst preparing for school auditions:

notes to self

This is nuts.

1. no pressing of the high notes. if everything is running in a straight track, just go with it and let the overtones take care of carrying power


2. you know what the vowel is, was, and will be. prep them a la Price whose mouth seems to be moving in slow motion rather than rapid changes between held vowels


3. you should never have to rebuild your support -- just don't take it down once you've got it


4. loooooseness

Now, then -- off to practice!