I've never not been in the U.S. for the fourth of July before. The first time I went to opera camp (years ago), I was in San Francisco. I watched fireworks in a parking lot with other students in that program from the roof of a van, and I think we made hot dogs in someone's apartment.
That was fun.
But so was tonight. For the fourth, the American students (not me, but the others who did the full program) performed a show at the Alta Mensa, a club in Freiberg. It was a version of Mozart's Schauspieldirecktor with other music added (so more of them could perform). It was a lot of fun.
It may have been even more fun because I had a beer. I've finally found out what kind of beer I generally like: wheat beer. And at the Alta Mensa, they serve one--the Meisler Weisse. Fortunately, I like it. And it's only two euros and ten cents (today, that's about $2.70) for a large glass. I think it's a pint, actually...
Have I mentioned that beer is actually cheaper than water here? Don't worry; I'm not going to become a drunk. But the weisse beer is good. The show may have been a little better with it, too.
But after that I was tired, so I came back to the hotel. It doesn't feel like the fourth of July at all...no one is shooting fireworks right now. Fortunately, I did see a few of the fireworks when I got here on Sunday for the end of the Bergstadfest. So two years ago, I returned to America just in time for the fourth of July fireworks. And this week, I got here just in time to see them after the Bergstadfest.
Or maybe whenever I enter a country, they shoot fireworks. After all, I am Opera Girl.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Return to Germany
If you were in any doubt, I can settle the question: fly Lufthansa. It was two years ago that I last crossed the Atlantic (on an American island that shall remain nameless), so some details may be hazy in my memory. Perhaps they didn't charge me for headphones to watch a movie in-flight, as they often do on domestic flights. But I think I would remember if they'd offered me multiple glasses of wine at no charge or coffee (which was delicious, if you were wondering) after dinner.
On Lufthansa, I did get those things.
Also, I do remember that two years ago, by the time they served dinner at my seat, they were out of pasta and so gave me chicken. I was still eating meat at that time, but only free range. So I didn't eat chicken, and I wasn't very happy about it. This time, I had pasta (it was also delicious. Everything was, actually, to save you the trouble of asking again). And it was served on a real plate and the meal included a brownie with half a strawberry and whipped cream for dessert.
Furthermore, the flight attendants are German on Lufthansa. They speak German to each other and have cool accents when they speak to me in English.
Finally (but actually first), I had too much luggage. The gentleman at the check-in counter (who should also remain nameless) let me check all my bags and gave me a break on the fees. My sister said that was a good omen. The second good omen was that my seat on the airplane was by the emergency exit and bathrooms and had excessive leg room. I was able to stretch out some and even sleep a little.
So the omens say this will be a good trip. And next time you're flying over the Atlantic, I suggest you consider Lufthansa. (No, they didn't pay me for this advertisement.)
On Lufthansa, I did get those things.
Also, I do remember that two years ago, by the time they served dinner at my seat, they were out of pasta and so gave me chicken. I was still eating meat at that time, but only free range. So I didn't eat chicken, and I wasn't very happy about it. This time, I had pasta (it was also delicious. Everything was, actually, to save you the trouble of asking again). And it was served on a real plate and the meal included a brownie with half a strawberry and whipped cream for dessert.
Furthermore, the flight attendants are German on Lufthansa. They speak German to each other and have cool accents when they speak to me in English.
Finally (but actually first), I had too much luggage. The gentleman at the check-in counter (who should also remain nameless) let me check all my bags and gave me a break on the fees. My sister said that was a good omen. The second good omen was that my seat on the airplane was by the emergency exit and bathrooms and had excessive leg room. I was able to stretch out some and even sleep a little.
So the omens say this will be a good trip. And next time you're flying over the Atlantic, I suggest you consider Lufthansa. (No, they didn't pay me for this advertisement.)
Thursday, December 15, 2011
A non-operatic adventure
So a friend suggested I should tell this story on yelp (which I have never read nor posted on), but I thought I'd share it here first.
Those who know me know that one of my big interests (besides opera) is the local food movement. I think it started when my sister told me to read The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan, but since then I've read many more books, watched documentaries, and talked to a lot of farmers. I've quit buying meat, eggs, or dairy at the grocery story and shop instead at the farmer's market. And since I got back from Germany, I've officially gone...let's call it "organi-vegetarian." I'll eat meat, but only if it's organic, free-range, and preferably local. Otherwise I'm eating vegetarian.
The other day, I went to a restaurant in Harrisonburg near where I teach private piano and voice lessons to children (that's in addition to my two college teaching positions). I'd never eaten there before, but I only had a few minutes before my first student, and I wanted a snack to carry me through my afternoon of teaching to dinner. And this place was close and convenient.
Based on the name and the design of the sign, I figured this wasn't really my usual favorite kind of place to eat (read: hipster). I think everything on the menu was meat, fried, or both. I walked in and stared at the menu, trying to find something I would eat.
I'm pretty sure it was the owner working the counter that day. As I hesitated, he asked me, "Are you looking for anything in particular?" Still skimming the menu for vegetarian options, I replied, not wanting to come across as too pretentious (as if!), "Well...I don't eat factory farmed meat."
He looked at me as if I'd just spoken German. "I'm sorry, you don't eat...what?" I repeated myself, "Factory farmed meat. You know...I only eat organic, free-range, local meat." He looked utterly shocked, and said, in a tone of concern, "But, I mean, I have to get my meat from a reputable source! It's not like I can just go buy meat from some local farmer--the Department of Health would be all over me!"
My polite smile began to feel more like a grimace, as I tried to avoid a debate. I didn't see the point of trying to educate or persuade this man...and besides, I had to teach in five minutes. "Yes," I said, attempting to renew my polite smile, "You do have to find reputable sources. I do buy meat at the farmer's market, though."
"Wow," said the restaurateur.
I continued to look at the menu. He looked at it, too, and suggested, "Well, we have the fried apples--those are delicious--or fried pickles." "Um-hmm," said I. He added, "Out of curiosity, why do you not eat factory-farmed meat?" I replied, "Well, it's an ethical choice for me. You know, because of how the animals are treated in factory farms." He said, "Oh, I've heard that about veal!" "Yes," I replied, "It's true of beef and dairy and chicken farms, too. They keep the animals confined in their own waste and feed them food that makes them sick." He said, "Oh, no, my cousin has a poultry farm. They keep them confined, sure, in a 90 foot warehouse!" Exactly, I thought. And there are probably 20 or 30 thousands chickens in there...
"Um-hmm," I said, my attempt at a polite smile now frozen to my face. "I'll try a fried pickle and the fried apples, that sounds good." Just like they serve at the county fair.
The apples were just really sweet apple pie filling in a styrofoam cup. I couldn't finish them. But the breaded and fried pickle was actually pretty good. Next time I guess I'll try to stop at the gas station for a granola bar and organic juice. Or something...
Those who know me know that one of my big interests (besides opera) is the local food movement. I think it started when my sister told me to read The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan, but since then I've read many more books, watched documentaries, and talked to a lot of farmers. I've quit buying meat, eggs, or dairy at the grocery story and shop instead at the farmer's market. And since I got back from Germany, I've officially gone...let's call it "organi-vegetarian." I'll eat meat, but only if it's organic, free-range, and preferably local. Otherwise I'm eating vegetarian.
The other day, I went to a restaurant in Harrisonburg near where I teach private piano and voice lessons to children (that's in addition to my two college teaching positions). I'd never eaten there before, but I only had a few minutes before my first student, and I wanted a snack to carry me through my afternoon of teaching to dinner. And this place was close and convenient.
Based on the name and the design of the sign, I figured this wasn't really my usual favorite kind of place to eat (read: hipster). I think everything on the menu was meat, fried, or both. I walked in and stared at the menu, trying to find something I would eat.
I'm pretty sure it was the owner working the counter that day. As I hesitated, he asked me, "Are you looking for anything in particular?" Still skimming the menu for vegetarian options, I replied, not wanting to come across as too pretentious (as if!), "Well...I don't eat factory farmed meat."
He looked at me as if I'd just spoken German. "I'm sorry, you don't eat...what?" I repeated myself, "Factory farmed meat. You know...I only eat organic, free-range, local meat." He looked utterly shocked, and said, in a tone of concern, "But, I mean, I have to get my meat from a reputable source! It's not like I can just go buy meat from some local farmer--the Department of Health would be all over me!"
My polite smile began to feel more like a grimace, as I tried to avoid a debate. I didn't see the point of trying to educate or persuade this man...and besides, I had to teach in five minutes. "Yes," I said, attempting to renew my polite smile, "You do have to find reputable sources. I do buy meat at the farmer's market, though."
"Wow," said the restaurateur.
I continued to look at the menu. He looked at it, too, and suggested, "Well, we have the fried apples--those are delicious--or fried pickles." "Um-hmm," said I. He added, "Out of curiosity, why do you not eat factory-farmed meat?" I replied, "Well, it's an ethical choice for me. You know, because of how the animals are treated in factory farms." He said, "Oh, I've heard that about veal!" "Yes," I replied, "It's true of beef and dairy and chicken farms, too. They keep the animals confined in their own waste and feed them food that makes them sick." He said, "Oh, no, my cousin has a poultry farm. They keep them confined, sure, in a 90 foot warehouse!" Exactly, I thought. And there are probably 20 or 30 thousands chickens in there...
"Um-hmm," I said, my attempt at a polite smile now frozen to my face. "I'll try a fried pickle and the fried apples, that sounds good." Just like they serve at the county fair.
The apples were just really sweet apple pie filling in a styrofoam cup. I couldn't finish them. But the breaded and fried pickle was actually pretty good. Next time I guess I'll try to stop at the gas station for a granola bar and organic juice. Or something...
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Return to Blogging...if not Germany yet
Obviously I haven't posted in a while, but I have decided to start writing again, although perhaps not as frequently as I did while in Germany. I haven't written because, well, I haven't really had many opera-related adventures since I got back, and nothing else in my life seemed worthy of sharing on the internet.
However, a few things have happened lately that would fall into the category of adventures for Opera Girl. I am planning to go back to Germany and audition. There are a lot of logistics surrounding that, of course, and I guess I will write about some of them as they come up. I imagine other singers considering auditioning there might find it helpful. Currently, the practical part of my plan is quite straightforward: I'm saving as much money as I can and practicing German as much as I can. I'm also trying to work regular German study into my daily schedule (that has been a little less successful than the random practice whenever I get a chance).
But to explain for the non-singers...auditioning in Germany is not as far-fetched as it may sound. For an American singer, Germany is actually Mecca. There are hundreds of professional opera companies who have full-time positions for singers, and they do often hire foreigners (unlike in some other countries, at least according to the Opera Grapevine). In America, as a singer, the best you can hope for is to be booked for the next few months, or the next year. That's if you're a big star singing in top opera houses and practically a household name (at least in the houses of opera fans). When you audition and get hired, congratulations! You're employed. For a month or two. During that time, you will be in rehearsals or performances and will probably not have time to search or audition for your next job. After that show is done, you're unemployed again. Here's your check, have a nice day. How many zero's are on that check can vary a lot, depending on your level, but once you finish the gig, you have to find the next one. And while some gigs may include perks like housing or food allowances or the opportunity to go to fancy parties as the celebrity guest and rub shoulders with rich patrons, you still are constantly looking for the next gig, and in the meantime spending a lot of your money on voice lessons, coachings, travel, and probably buying your own health insurance. You travel all the time--unless you're unemployed, in which case you're probably traveling to auditions to try to get work, and spending money you may not have on those trips.
Got the picture? Ok, now let's compare. In Germany they have a system called Repertory Houses. There are theater companies in the US that operate under this principal, but very few opera companies (and the ones I know of are only summer seasonal theaters). In a repertory company, you can get hired for a season--a year or maybe two. (Or, especially in the US, a summer season.) During the season, you will sing a variety of roles that are appropriate for your voice and character type. You receive a salary (which is a living wage) and health benefits (ok, Germany has completely different health care, but that's another topic entirely). You can live in the town where you work and be part of a community. You get six weeks paid vacation and regular national holidays. Oh, and everyone speaks German.
Yeah, that sounds really good to me! So here's my oh-so-perfectly-worked-out plan...
1. Save money
2. Learn (more) German
3. Prepare 5 - 7 arias for German auditions until I can sing them really, really well.
4.. Go back to Germany during audition season
5. Write as many companies as I can find that might have openings for a singer like me and request an audition
6. Hopefully, get some auditions.
7. Sing really, really well.
8. See what happens!
Easy as pie, right? Anyway, the pumpkin pie I made (from scratch! from a local pumpkin! and sweetened with local honey!) for Thanksgiving this year turned out a lot better than last year's pie. So maybe I've learned something...
However, a few things have happened lately that would fall into the category of adventures for Opera Girl. I am planning to go back to Germany and audition. There are a lot of logistics surrounding that, of course, and I guess I will write about some of them as they come up. I imagine other singers considering auditioning there might find it helpful. Currently, the practical part of my plan is quite straightforward: I'm saving as much money as I can and practicing German as much as I can. I'm also trying to work regular German study into my daily schedule (that has been a little less successful than the random practice whenever I get a chance).
But to explain for the non-singers...auditioning in Germany is not as far-fetched as it may sound. For an American singer, Germany is actually Mecca. There are hundreds of professional opera companies who have full-time positions for singers, and they do often hire foreigners (unlike in some other countries, at least according to the Opera Grapevine). In America, as a singer, the best you can hope for is to be booked for the next few months, or the next year. That's if you're a big star singing in top opera houses and practically a household name (at least in the houses of opera fans). When you audition and get hired, congratulations! You're employed. For a month or two. During that time, you will be in rehearsals or performances and will probably not have time to search or audition for your next job. After that show is done, you're unemployed again. Here's your check, have a nice day. How many zero's are on that check can vary a lot, depending on your level, but once you finish the gig, you have to find the next one. And while some gigs may include perks like housing or food allowances or the opportunity to go to fancy parties as the celebrity guest and rub shoulders with rich patrons, you still are constantly looking for the next gig, and in the meantime spending a lot of your money on voice lessons, coachings, travel, and probably buying your own health insurance. You travel all the time--unless you're unemployed, in which case you're probably traveling to auditions to try to get work, and spending money you may not have on those trips.
Got the picture? Ok, now let's compare. In Germany they have a system called Repertory Houses. There are theater companies in the US that operate under this principal, but very few opera companies (and the ones I know of are only summer seasonal theaters). In a repertory company, you can get hired for a season--a year or maybe two. (Or, especially in the US, a summer season.) During the season, you will sing a variety of roles that are appropriate for your voice and character type. You receive a salary (which is a living wage) and health benefits (ok, Germany has completely different health care, but that's another topic entirely). You can live in the town where you work and be part of a community. You get six weeks paid vacation and regular national holidays. Oh, and everyone speaks German.
Yeah, that sounds really good to me! So here's my oh-so-perfectly-worked-out plan...
1. Save money
2. Learn (more) German
3. Prepare 5 - 7 arias for German auditions until I can sing them really, really well.
4.. Go back to Germany during audition season
5. Write as many companies as I can find that might have openings for a singer like me and request an audition
6. Hopefully, get some auditions.
7. Sing really, really well.
8. See what happens!
Easy as pie, right? Anyway, the pumpkin pie I made (from scratch! from a local pumpkin! and sweetened with local honey!) for Thanksgiving this year turned out a lot better than last year's pie. So maybe I've learned something...
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Reverse Culture Shock
Maybe I never got around to mentioning this, but I never felt culture shock in Germany. Actually, I didn't expect to. I've wanted to go to Europe for years. I've also been saying that when I did finally go, it would be to sing, and that I wouldn't want to come back.
Both true.
Although I noticed some things that were different, they didn't bother me. Actually, I liked them. There were even a few things I noticed that I might prefer about America--but those differences in Germany still just intrigued me.
But I think one of the biggest differences is how people react to opera singers. Here in America, when I tell people I'm an opera singer, I get one of two reactions. The first goes like this:
Long blank stare.
"You're an opera singer?? I love Phantom of the Opera."
I actually had this exact conversation with an American flight attendant on the way back. And if you're reading this and you DON'T know, Phantom of the Opera is NOT an opera. It's a Broadway musical. And I've never heard anyone sing it in a way that would, as my teacher says, "do battle with a 100-piece orchestra and win."
That's the good reaction. Here's the bad one:
Long blank stare.
"You're an...opera singer?! I hate opera."
Seriously? I hate what you do, too, and your little dog as well! How rude do people have to be?
Meanwhile, in Germany, when I told people I'm an opera singer, I got this reaction:
"You're an opera singer?! This is amazing! Why are you in this tiny little town? Where are you singing? When can I come hear you sing?"
Is it any wonder that I didn't want to come back? Today I spent some time in downtown Harrisonburg (which I do actually like, by the way) and talked a little with some very nice people about my trip. But even my friends don't really get it. I don't have words to explain it, any more than I could explain to my German friends how, as an opera singer in America, I have three degrees for which I paid thousands of dollars, and I'm qualified to work as a teacher making less than $15,000 a year...or to wait tables. (And the Germans wondered why we Americans were so nice and friendly to all the waiters when we ate out.) As a singer in Germany, you can get a job where you get a salary that you can live on and benefits and paid vacations (six weeks a year!), and you're working in a theater and singing all the time, and you work from 10 am to 2 pm and then from 6 pm until 10 or 11, unless you aren't needed for that day's rehearsal.
Is it just me, or does that sound like a perfect life? Plus the food is amazing (did I mention that?).
Both true.
Although I noticed some things that were different, they didn't bother me. Actually, I liked them. There were even a few things I noticed that I might prefer about America--but those differences in Germany still just intrigued me.
But I think one of the biggest differences is how people react to opera singers. Here in America, when I tell people I'm an opera singer, I get one of two reactions. The first goes like this:
Long blank stare.
"You're an opera singer?? I love Phantom of the Opera."
I actually had this exact conversation with an American flight attendant on the way back. And if you're reading this and you DON'T know, Phantom of the Opera is NOT an opera. It's a Broadway musical. And I've never heard anyone sing it in a way that would, as my teacher says, "do battle with a 100-piece orchestra and win."
That's the good reaction. Here's the bad one:
Long blank stare.
"You're an...opera singer?! I hate opera."
Seriously? I hate what you do, too, and your little dog as well! How rude do people have to be?
Meanwhile, in Germany, when I told people I'm an opera singer, I got this reaction:
"You're an opera singer?! This is amazing! Why are you in this tiny little town? Where are you singing? When can I come hear you sing?"
Is it any wonder that I didn't want to come back? Today I spent some time in downtown Harrisonburg (which I do actually like, by the way) and talked a little with some very nice people about my trip. But even my friends don't really get it. I don't have words to explain it, any more than I could explain to my German friends how, as an opera singer in America, I have three degrees for which I paid thousands of dollars, and I'm qualified to work as a teacher making less than $15,000 a year...or to wait tables. (And the Germans wondered why we Americans were so nice and friendly to all the waiters when we ate out.) As a singer in Germany, you can get a job where you get a salary that you can live on and benefits and paid vacations (six weeks a year!), and you're working in a theater and singing all the time, and you work from 10 am to 2 pm and then from 6 pm until 10 or 11, unless you aren't needed for that day's rehearsal.
Is it just me, or does that sound like a perfect life? Plus the food is amazing (did I mention that?).
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Back home
Well, I know I've been MIA here for a while. The last few days in Germany, I was so busy with performances and wanting to spend time with people (knowing I'd be leaving soon) that I didn't want to take time to write. But now I'm home safely.
After the Bergstadfest, we had one final performance of Suor Angelica (scheduled just a few weeks before that) and the Wolf Lieder section of the course. We each coached one, two, or three Lieder with Eckhard Sellheim, and we had concerts the final Saturday and Sunday. By this time, everyone was so tired from everything with the operas we'd performed that none of us had as much energy for the Lieder as we would have liked. And no one was able to memorize their Lieder (except those who were doing pieces they already had memorized). I had expected to have a little time to work on my Wolf Lieder during the first five weeks of the course--but no. I did try to memorize them, but in the end I used music (like everyone did!) for the concerts.
In the end, though, this did not matter. The Lieder section of the course was, in some ways, the most significant for David and Andrew, our collaborative pianists. I (having volunteered for extra work before arriving) was able to work with both of them. With David, I sang one short and not-too-difficult piece: Er ist's. With Andrew, I did two pieces. One was hard and the other nearly impossible--especially for the pianist. We, however, rose to the challenge and were able to perform both Charwoche (on Saturday) and Der Feurerriter (on Sunday). Der Feurerriter is the one that is almost impossible to play--and it's not easy to sing either--but it was really worth the effort. This song tells the story of a legend from the Black Forest about the "fire-rider"--a mysterious figure on a dark horse that appears whenever there is a fire. It's long and dramatic, and after a lot of extra rehearsal, we were able to really perform it, and we had a great time with it. Melissa actually recorded it, so I may be able to get that from her and post it in a few weeks.
The last Suor Angelica performance was almost a new production because of casting changes. Kathryn Green, our Principessa, had already made plans to leave immediately after the Bergstadfest (which was originally the last SA performance). So Corinne, the big-voiced young mezzo who was singing the Mistress of the Novices, was asked to sing the Principessa for that performance with piano. She's young yet for that role, but when she gets older her voice will be perfect for it. However, this left the role of the Mistress open. Since it's not too low or too high and the performance was with piano anyway, and since I knew I wouldn't be singing Genevieve (the other Genevive had had one less performance than me--or would have if we hadn't been rained out at Kreibstein)--I volunteered to learn the Mistress of the Novices. It's short, and that gave me the opportunity to get one more role on my resume before the summer was up. So, Corinne and I learned our new roles--music and staging--and we had one run-through of the show on Friday (before the Saturday performance). Everything was good...and then Kristina got sick. Kristina was singing the Moniter, the bigger mezzo role in the first half of the show. On Friday she got a stomach bug and was able to sing and walk through the rehearsal, but barely. We were concerned, then, that she might not make it to the show. So, when Bill (our conductor) asked if anyone would like to learn the role of the Moniter just as a safety net, Katherine (one of our girls from MBC!) volunteered.
Still all good, right?
But wait--there's more.
Sarah and Lauren were the Two Tournieres. Both of them knew both roles--Lauren suffered from illness this summer and they'd been switching between the two roles. In several rehearsals, when Lauren was sick, Sarah sang both parts. In performances they'd alternated, but Lauren had been so sick that she'd never really sung either one strongly. On Friday we learned that Sarah had an audition on Saturday (scheduled before this performance of SA was scheduled), and she might not be able to finish it in time to get to the performance.
No problem.
Let me reiterate: Corinne, who's been singing the Mistress of the Novices, is singing the Principessa.
I', who have been singing Genevive, am singing the Mistress. Kristina may or may not be on her feet, and Katherine (who normally sings Dolcina or chorus) has learned her role of the Moniter. I should add here that the roles of the Moniter and the Mistress are staged together. Kristina knows the staging well. I know it a little--especially if Kristina is helping me. I've done it once. Katherine knows it only by what she's noticed when singing in the chorus, and has never done the staging for this role. And if Sarah doesn't make it back from her audition, Lauren will be singing the first AND second Tourniere--if her voice works at all.
Oh, and we had a Wolf Lieder concert the same day, before Suor Angelica.
Kein Problem. (No problem.)
As it turned out, Sarah didn't make it back, but Kristina's health did, and so did Lauren's voice. Also the space turned out to be so small that we probably couldn't have fit Sarah on to the stage if she'd been there. The show went surprisingly smoothly (Leah of course sang Angelica beautifully, as always), and we had a good time.
After that kind of adventures, is it any wonder that I'm bored now at home? No crisis, no role to learn in two days, no three performances in one day...what shall I do with myself?
But it's been an amazing summer. I feel that I have changed, in good ways, as an artist and even as a person. And I don't want to fall back into the ways I was before.
After the Bergstadfest, we had one final performance of Suor Angelica (scheduled just a few weeks before that) and the Wolf Lieder section of the course. We each coached one, two, or three Lieder with Eckhard Sellheim, and we had concerts the final Saturday and Sunday. By this time, everyone was so tired from everything with the operas we'd performed that none of us had as much energy for the Lieder as we would have liked. And no one was able to memorize their Lieder (except those who were doing pieces they already had memorized). I had expected to have a little time to work on my Wolf Lieder during the first five weeks of the course--but no. I did try to memorize them, but in the end I used music (like everyone did!) for the concerts.
In the end, though, this did not matter. The Lieder section of the course was, in some ways, the most significant for David and Andrew, our collaborative pianists. I (having volunteered for extra work before arriving) was able to work with both of them. With David, I sang one short and not-too-difficult piece: Er ist's. With Andrew, I did two pieces. One was hard and the other nearly impossible--especially for the pianist. We, however, rose to the challenge and were able to perform both Charwoche (on Saturday) and Der Feurerriter (on Sunday). Der Feurerriter is the one that is almost impossible to play--and it's not easy to sing either--but it was really worth the effort. This song tells the story of a legend from the Black Forest about the "fire-rider"--a mysterious figure on a dark horse that appears whenever there is a fire. It's long and dramatic, and after a lot of extra rehearsal, we were able to really perform it, and we had a great time with it. Melissa actually recorded it, so I may be able to get that from her and post it in a few weeks.
The last Suor Angelica performance was almost a new production because of casting changes. Kathryn Green, our Principessa, had already made plans to leave immediately after the Bergstadfest (which was originally the last SA performance). So Corinne, the big-voiced young mezzo who was singing the Mistress of the Novices, was asked to sing the Principessa for that performance with piano. She's young yet for that role, but when she gets older her voice will be perfect for it. However, this left the role of the Mistress open. Since it's not too low or too high and the performance was with piano anyway, and since I knew I wouldn't be singing Genevieve (the other Genevive had had one less performance than me--or would have if we hadn't been rained out at Kreibstein)--I volunteered to learn the Mistress of the Novices. It's short, and that gave me the opportunity to get one more role on my resume before the summer was up. So, Corinne and I learned our new roles--music and staging--and we had one run-through of the show on Friday (before the Saturday performance). Everything was good...and then Kristina got sick. Kristina was singing the Moniter, the bigger mezzo role in the first half of the show. On Friday she got a stomach bug and was able to sing and walk through the rehearsal, but barely. We were concerned, then, that she might not make it to the show. So, when Bill (our conductor) asked if anyone would like to learn the role of the Moniter just as a safety net, Katherine (one of our girls from MBC!) volunteered.
Still all good, right?
But wait--there's more.
Sarah and Lauren were the Two Tournieres. Both of them knew both roles--Lauren suffered from illness this summer and they'd been switching between the two roles. In several rehearsals, when Lauren was sick, Sarah sang both parts. In performances they'd alternated, but Lauren had been so sick that she'd never really sung either one strongly. On Friday we learned that Sarah had an audition on Saturday (scheduled before this performance of SA was scheduled), and she might not be able to finish it in time to get to the performance.
No problem.
Let me reiterate: Corinne, who's been singing the Mistress of the Novices, is singing the Principessa.
I', who have been singing Genevive, am singing the Mistress. Kristina may or may not be on her feet, and Katherine (who normally sings Dolcina or chorus) has learned her role of the Moniter. I should add here that the roles of the Moniter and the Mistress are staged together. Kristina knows the staging well. I know it a little--especially if Kristina is helping me. I've done it once. Katherine knows it only by what she's noticed when singing in the chorus, and has never done the staging for this role. And if Sarah doesn't make it back from her audition, Lauren will be singing the first AND second Tourniere--if her voice works at all.
Oh, and we had a Wolf Lieder concert the same day, before Suor Angelica.
Kein Problem. (No problem.)
As it turned out, Sarah didn't make it back, but Kristina's health did, and so did Lauren's voice. Also the space turned out to be so small that we probably couldn't have fit Sarah on to the stage if she'd been there. The show went surprisingly smoothly (Leah of course sang Angelica beautifully, as always), and we had a good time.
After that kind of adventures, is it any wonder that I'm bored now at home? No crisis, no role to learn in two days, no three performances in one day...what shall I do with myself?
But it's been an amazing summer. I feel that I have changed, in good ways, as an artist and even as a person. And I don't want to fall back into the ways I was before.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Viel Spaβ!
Just a note...I wrote this last night (27.6.2011), but our internet was down. But that's the actual date for this entry.
Viel Spaβ means “have fun.” It is used here in Germany before a performance instead of “good luck.” And that is about all I can say about last night’s final performance of Suor Angelica for the Freiberg Bergstadfest. I didn’t sing Suor Genevieve last night, but instead I got to sing my aria (Quando m’en vo) with the orchestra before we performed the opera. Now, this aria was not my first choice of what I would sing for this event, but it fit with the program and what they wanted to do, so I did it. However, although I’ve gotten consistently good feedback about it (especially here), it has always made me nervous. I sang it years ago, in undergrad, and I never feel that I sing my best on it, and I don’t feel completely comfortable with it.
Actually, I should put all of that in the past tense. Because this changed last night.
Just this week, as we have been working towards our orchestra performances of Suor Angelica, we had our first rehearsal with the Mittlesächisches Theater orchestra and with the conductor here, Maestro Herr Horstmann. I had met Herr Horstmann several times before, when he came to JMU when I was a student there to audition singers for this program. I’ve auditioned for him and sung in several masterclassses with him. But this week was the first time I sang with his orchestra and under his conducting…and what an experience that has been. I have only sung with orchestra a few times in my life, but this was by far the best I have ever worked with. I don’t think I can say enough good things about Herr Horstmann…singing with him conducting feels like being a trapeze artist, “flying through the air with the greatest of ease”—but with a net. He guides the orchestra to take care of you, the singer, and he is so musical and seems to instinctively know what will work best for each singer’s voice. When I worked with him on my aria and on Suor Genevieve, he gave me permission to do everything musically that I had wanted to do but didn’t think I could, and he gave me more wonderful things to do musically that I hadn’t thought of—and made it easy for me to do them.
If you’re not a singer, and you’ve never sung with a really good conductor, I don’t know how else to describe the experience.
Anyway, all summer I’ve been working on letting go of fear, especially in performance, and being real and open and in the moment. Last night I was nervous. It was the Bergstadfest, the big town festival. It was the biggest audience we’d had. The orchestra performed a symphonic piece, Leah and I each sang an aria, and then we did Suor Angelica (Melissa sang Angelica, and Vanessa sang Genevieve). This performance was built up as a big deal—we were told agents might be invited, and important people from the town of Freiberg were there. And there I was, all dressed up in my gown, feeling like a diva and also like an imposter, wondering if I really have the skill and talent to fill my own shoes.
Then I remembered something my friend Kathryn Green (who sang the Principessa) said to me when I was talking about nerves: “Take a deep breath and thank God for your life. Then open your mouth and SING!” I stood backstage and thought: Rachel, this is the fun part. If this isn’t among the most fun things you’ll ever do in your life—I don’t know what is. You are in Germany, singing a wonderful aria with an incredible orchestra for hundreds of people. This is what you want to do, what you are here to do—not just in Germany but maybe on this planet. VIEL SPAβ!
And so I walked out there, took a breath, thanked God for the opportunity to stand in my shoes that night, and sang. Halfway through my aria, I suddenly realized that I felt completely relaxed. I have never felt that comfortable and relaxed singing in front of an audience. I just stood there, enjoying the moment and the feel of the full, warm, beautiful sound of the orchestra filling my ears and my body, and then realized—oh, this is the part where I sing again! So I did.
Afterwards Leah told me it was the best she’d ever heard me sing. But for once, I wasn’t listening to myself or judging myself.
I was flying through the air.
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