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.  

Falling in love with German

The better I get at German (and of course I'm still awful), the more I'm falling in love with this language. It's not always beautiful just to listen to, the way Italian is, and because of this I never loved it before. Before I only studied the sounds. Now I'm studying the vocabulary and the structure (a little), and it's so poetic. I can well believe that so many fairy tales come from this land, with its deep, dark woods and it's magic-making tongue. Some days I think I may have stumbled into a fairy tale myself.

Specifically, I love the compound words in German. The other day I was sitting at the Kaffee Momo (a coffee roaster and cafe that reminds me of all my favorite coffeeshops at home, including a wall full of books for patrons to read. I was so thrilled to see all that new reading material and then I remembered that I don't read German yet...), working on my Wolf Lieder translations. I came across this word: ahnungsvoll. By itself it wasn't in my dictionary, but when I broke it down I found it. It is Ahnung: foreshadowing, presentiment, plus voll: full. Literally, foreshadowings-full. Maybe German speakers don't notice this the way a non-native speaker does, because of course they just know what the word means. But to me, it is so beautiful and poetic--and so many words use this kind of word-architecture to build meanings from root words.

We only have two weeks more here. I'm so sad when I think about going back to a place where everyone speaks English all the time. Of course I speak English with the other Americans here, and with the Germans who speak English, but I love hanging out with the Germans when they speak to each other in German. I understand much better when people are talking to me, but I love to listen and try to understand. I'm starting to feel like I could be conversing in German if I could stay just one more month or so.

Now That's What I Call a Party!

Last night there was a huge party at the opera house to say farewell to the Intendent (general manager I think), who is leaving. He's been running this company for, I think, five years, and everyone in the company seems to love him (last night I could see why!), and so they threw him a really spectacular farewell party. Because Freiberg is such a small town, he's also a very important person throughout the town, and not only to the opera company members. Apparently this party was even more spectacular because it coincided with the full moon festival. I missed this last month, but it seems that every month for the full moon there is some sort of town-wide party to celebrate it. (And as an aside, in the month since we've been here there have been TWO national holidays for which the entire town--except the restaurants--closed down. Servers still have to work on holidays so everyone can go out to eat, but everyone else gets a lot of days off. It's like Christmas twice a month! except the presents. I think most holidays here actually involve beer more than presents, but then every day here involves beer.)

Have you ever been to a progressive dinner party? That's where you have drinks in one location, then go somewhere else for appetizers, a different place the main course, somewhere again for dessert...you get the idea. That's what this party last night was like. It started at 10 pm, after all our rehearsals and such were over (and everyone had time after rehearsal to change and get some food). Most people dressed up at least a little. The party was free for employees of the theater (including us), but members of the town had to buy tickets, at least for the part at the theater. For an hour or so, there was music in two rooms at the theater. One of the main choristers sang cabaret songs (I heard her sing La vie en rose), and upstairs Jan Horstmann (the conductor for the theater) played jazz (fabulously) with a violinist and cellist. Oh, and alcohol was sold. I had a glass of white wine (generally a mistake for me, but it made the jazz even better than it already was!).

After a while of this, everyone gathered on the square in front of the theater for a performance by Venetian Masks. This is, I think, a form of entertainment dating from medieval times. And I was fascinated. I think most of the other Americans were befuddled...but the experience took my breath away. All I could think was...here I stand, drinking a glass of wine, on ancient cobblestones in an old town in Germany, watching a dance performance probably very similar to ones performed in Italy in the 15 or 1600s. I couldn't stop smiling. And I didn't have my camera!

So, after the masks, we walked to the Freiberg castle. I had forgotten there was, in fact, a castle in this town. I think there are castles in most towns, actually. But yesterday's was not my first castle: the day before we went to Louenstein and performed in a castle (I volunteered to do a song in the recital just because I wanted to be able to say I had sung in a castle!). But I won't deny I was a little disappointed: both the castle here in Freiberg and the one on Louenstein look more like very large, old houses than Cinderella's palace at Disneyworld. The Freiberg castle has, if I remember correctly, two towers, and the rest is just like a very, very big, square stone house. But there is a bridge to the front entrance which crosses (truly!) a COURTYARD, which is surrounded by the original wall, built of stones. If the Venetian masks didn't do me in, this certainly did. I felt as though I were in a storybook. There was music here too--some strings I think--but I was so taken by admiring the castle that I missed it, and spent this stage of the party talking with Michael, our director for Suor Angelica, about castles.

But wait! there's more! The party was STILL not finished. After the castle we all (and I haven't mentioned this...by all of us I mean probably around 100 or more people walking down the little cobblestoned streets of downtown Freiberg in a big stream) walked to the Tivoli, a sort of theater/club. I hadn't been there yet, either, but they have bands and also performances there. The first week we were here, Die Fledermaus was performed there, but we weren't able to go because of our rehearsal schedule (which was a huge disappointment to me--I really would have loved to see Die Fledermaus in Germany!). The party ended at the Tivoli, but not for several hours more. They sold more beer, wine, and pretzels there, and the performances ranged from a sort of German folk duo and a German garage-type band to opera and musical theater. I think my favorite was the skit of a scene from the musical Spring Awakening. It started with a man wearing a very fake pencil mustache, a robe, and a turban, and ended with the girl taking off her blouse to reveal a body suit including...yes, ass-less chaps. (She was wearing a thong under that, does that count??) That wasn't my favorite part, though. During this skit, they both kept making each other laugh. He would do something funny, and she would get that look that actors get when they're trying not to break character, and then she would start to giggle and try to stop it. Next time it would be her making him laugh. And a couple of times they both just lost it and cracked up. And actors breaking character because they can't stop laughing is funny in any language, whether or not you understand what's being said!

Finally, at 2 am, the entertainment ended and we all meandered home to bed. Fortunately, I wasn't scheduled for anything this morning, so I was able to take part of the morning to catch up on sleep. Tonight a group is going to Chemnitz Opera to see The Full Monti. I'm not sure yet whether I'll be going, but it should be good regardless.

Performances!

Tomorrow we have our first performance of Suor Angelica. Actually, we have two performances: one in a place called Kloisterbuch, which was originally a real convent, and one here in Freiberg, in the theater's small black-box space which they call "the Bib" (I have no idea why). Although the roles of Suor Angelica and Suor Genevive (my role) are double-cast (two people sing each of those roles), the Angelica's are singing another small role when not singing Angelica, and the Genevive's sing in the chorus on their off nights. So everyone has two shows tomorrow, as well as travel. And we had a rehearsal tonight as well...it's 10:30 and I just got back to my hotel, and we leave tomorrow at 9 am.

The schedule here is very demanding--actually, more demanding than any I've ever had or heard of for professional or community performances--but I'm feeling pretty good in spite of it. And I'm excited to perform tomorrow. My friend Melissa and I will be singing together in Kloisterbuch. Apparently it's a small space and since I have a pretty big voice and Melissa's is pretty huge, I'm hoping we might bring down a brick or two of the old building. Now that would be a souvenir! But she and I will perform in Freiberg at the end of June with orchestra during the Bergstadfest (Mountain Town Festival). This is apparently a major music festival and tourist event held here every year during the last weekend of June. So I'm looking forward to that!

If I have any energy left on Sunday after tomorrow's marathon, I really want to go to Leipzig. There is an a cappella group performing that I would like to hear and possibly meet. However, most of our group has another performance on Sunday night, and the few who don't will probably be too tired from tomorrow to do anything. I'm a little afraid to go by myself...I think I can make myself understood and understand German now if I need to, but my sense of direction is still utterly hopeless. I'm quite confident that, even though I spent an entire afternoon just a few weeks ago walking around Leipzig, if I go alone I will become hopelessly lost, miss the last train back, and have to call someone from our group to come pick me up with one of the rental cars--probably around midnight.

Is that melodramatic? Maybe...but I'm also very tired!

I'm feeling pretty good about how I'm singing, though. Most of all, I'm getting good feedback from everyone here, and I'm trusting my own judgement a lot more. (It's funny...as soon as I stopped trying to please anyone but myself, everyone started telling me how well I was singing. There's a huge lesson in that, and it doesn't only apply to singing!) It looks like I'll be singing Quando m'en vo for one of the orchestra concerts, which should be fun. At least it's short and sweet (or sassy, as the case may be). Anne, the voice teacher here, told me I sounded spectacular on it--but I'm still not completely satisfied with how I'm singing it. However, that performance won't be for several weeks yet, so I hope I can finally fix the things I don't like about it. I've been singing this aria for years--ever since I was in undergrad--and I've never felt completely comfortable with it, although I think I've always sung it pretty well, taking into account my growth over the years with it. Now, just these past few weeks--these past few days really--I've finally stopped waiting for someone to tell me why it doesn't feel right or seem to work quite right for me and I've asked myself those questions. And somehow I'm surprised to find I know the answers. So I'm trying to work through the technical bumps in that piece so I can give a performance that I'll be proud of.

Meanwhile, though, my role for tomorrow is not too difficult, and it does have a few moments of glorious music. Melissa sings the title role beautifully and has made me cry several times in rehearsal. And the part that makes me cry is after I'm done singing but not before I'm done acting, and my character does actually cry. It would be really wonderful if I could really cry on stage--but I've never been able to do that when I wanted to. We'll see if I can break through THAT barrier before the summer ends.

Another week

I'm sitting in my room with the window wide open, it's almost 10 and just now dusk, and I hear someone singing upstairs in our building. The program is almost half over, and we've settled into a routine now of rehearsals, lessons, coachings, and German class. I can say more things in German every day, although I'm not conversational yet, and I hardly know any grammar. Our official class is total immersion (and the teacher doesn't even speak English), so it's hard to understand when he explains grammar (which is rare--we had our first big grammar class today. I asked him, not knowing what a can of worms I was opening, to tell us all the articles for every noun declension). (And if you also don't know what a can of worms that is, check it out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/German_declension)

I've been working a lot on my personal mission for this summer: to get a better understanding of how MY voice works, technically and dramatically and musically, and to determine what works for me and become, or at least start to become, my own teacher. Melissa, my colleague from Mary Baldwin and best friend here, has shown me some breathing exercises she uses, which I am finding helpful. Singing is such an athletic activity--but not athletic like running a marathon. It's athletic in a a spiritual way...I am finding that singing well, for me at least, requires that I find a state of focus and connection to my breath and body that's related to yoga and meditation. For so long I have waited for someone to tell me when I'm singing correctly. But I do believe that everyone is born knowing how to use their voice (my teacher has taught me this: the baby's first cry is the most natural and efficient use of the voice). And so I am trying to listen to my body, which already knows how to sing, and find what feels most efficient and true and real when I sing. I'm using the teacher and coaches here as guides to tell me what they think sounds good--but I won't settle for what doesn't feel right to me.

Weekend Adventures

Well, I've been trying to blog every day or every other day, but again the past few days have been busy and I was tired! But I have tonight off and so can report on the last few days.

On Sunday, we went to Leipzig, and I fell in love with the town. I am one of the drivers for the two mini-vans our program rented, so I got to drive on the Autobahn. And I learned something. I always thought (silly me!) there was ONE road called the Autobahn that had no speed limit. Not so. The Autobahn is just the German version of an American interstate or highway. Any highway is called the Autobahn, and between towns, there is no speed limit. But (fortunately for me!) not everyone drives unreasonably fast. I, of course, drive like a grandmother, even though the minivan (sadly!) actually accelerates better than my car at home. I went around 65 or 70, about the same speed I would drive on 81 at home. But I still passed some other vehicles, especially tractor trailers and trucks. One time I approached a truck that was driving slowly and wanted to pass. I checked the left lane and saw no cars at all--none approaching, none in my sight (yes, Dad, I checked my blind spot too). So I changed lanes and started to pass--accelerating slowly, as I would at home. Suddenly I heard a horn, and checking my rear view mirror, I saw a car directly behind me--really on my bumper. They had come up so quickly that I didn't have time to pass the truck before they were on top of me. I accelerated past the truck as quickly as I could and got into the right lane so the crazy impatient German driver could pass me.

Even if there's no speed limit, I think tailgating should still be illegal!

Other than that, however, my driving on the Autobahn was fairly uneventful. The GPS got us safely and quickly to Leipzig, which is an incredible town. We found a parking space in a large, open lot--not too close to the center of town, so it wasn't crowded--and walked to the Thomaskirche (Thomas Church).

This is a church where J.S. Bach was the choir master for many years, and his grave was moved there in the 1900's (and is there now). Martin Luther also preached there when he brought the message of the Reformation to Leipzig. Many of Bach's compositions were written for this church and performed there first. When Bach's music was re-discovered and became popular again after his death, it was performed first at the Thomakirche.

Of course the church has been renovated many times and in many ways, but it was incredibly moving to be in a place where so much history--both musical and religious--occurred. I have always been a fan of Martin Luther, and I walked down the aisle to a Bach cantata at my wedding. Standing on stones where these men walked, seeing the pulpit where Luther preached, the baptismal font where 11 of Bach's 13 children were baptized, and paying my respects to Bach's grave--I found myself weeping for joy and beauty and gratitude. That was what I felt more than anything: gratitude. These men lived so long ago, and yet their legacy is part of my life and has helped shape me into the person I am today. When I stood by Bach's grave, I whispered, "Danke," (thank you). I think he may have paused over the music he's writing still and responded--"Bitte." 

The rest of the day was a little less uplifting, however. We had come to Leipzig in two groups because half the group had a performance in the morning. Those of us who didn't have a performance wanted to go to Leipzig earlier so we could spend some more time there. In the afternoon, we had planned to see an operetta (tickets covered by the program!). However, on our way back to OUR van, we ran into the other group--in a tiny parking lot filled with cars parked where they should not have been. (I cannot emphasize this enough: people were parked in imaginary spaces, and no-one seemed to care.) My friend Leah and I decided we should go get our van so we could meet with the other two vehicles (the other mini-van and a car) and carpool together to the theater. So we did. When we got back, the other two had left without us, leaving the students from our vehicle waiting for us. But I didn't realize this until after I had pulled into the tiny, crowded parking lot. (Do you have a guess at where this story is going yet?) Everyone got in the car and I tried to pull OUT of the lot so we could go to the theater. But I couldn't squeeze through the tiny space left for the exit. Yes, that's right: I hit a parked car.

And apparently in Germany this is a big deal. It's not enough to leave a note with your number. You must call the police for any kind of collision. So...we did. We also knew, then, that we were not going to the theater. At least I wasn't. The others in my van could have gone if they wanted to, but as it turned out, everyone was more interested in spending more time seeing Leipzig. So we waited for the police, and while we were waiting, the owner of the car I had hit showed up. Fortunately, she spoke excellent English. Then the cops came, and one of them spoke English as well. Sadly, although she was parked practically across the exit, I was still at fault. Fortunately, her car was barely scratched--although of course she seemed to think there might be severe damage. Apparently Germans are very picky about their cars. But when I spoke to the program director, she was not terribly concerned. The program has insurance and it's not a big deal. Kein problem! (No problem!)

So, an hour later, we had more time to see Leipzig. I and a few others got a tour from Sarah, an American singer who lives in Leipzig now and is singing a role in our program. So that was great fun, and the drive home (much later) was mostly uneventful except that the GPS was very insistent about trying to take us on the road that was closed for construction. What I wouldn't give for a sense of direction...

Another funny thing on Sunday was that Andrew, one of the student pianists in our group, told me he thought I should go on the TV show "Amazing Race." He said he thought I could win. Obviously I would need a partner, but I think Phil and I together could very possibly win. He would do anything requiring physical courage or skill (like climbing, rappelling, or sports of any kind), but I could do anything requiring nerdy problem-solving skills, talking to people who don't speak English, or a Damsel in Distress routine (I have had a LOT of practice at this).

This weekend is a long one because tomorrow is Mannerstag--Men's Day. Apparently March 8 is International Women's Day, but the US doesn't observe it (shame on us!). From what I understood of our German teacher's sign language, on Women's Day you give your girlfriend or wife chocolate and flowers (got that Phil? It's like another Valentine's Day :) ). However, tomorrow, June 2, is Men's Day. It's also a religious holiday--I think forty days after Ascension--or else it IS Ascension and that's forty days after Easter. But apparently Men's Day is also an international holiday celebrated by men young, old, single, and married by (1) not working, and (2) drinking beer.

And that seems very German to me.

However, although we won't have German class tomorrow or Friday because of Men's Day, we will have all-day rehearsals tomorrow for Suor Angelica and The Beggar's Opera instead. I'm in Suor Angelica, of course, so it will be a pretty long day. On Friday, though, I might be going to Dresden (if I don't have rehearsal) because my aunt Sally, who lives in California and whom I rarely see, will be there! (Sally, if you're reading this...email me!)