Secrets · of · Love · and · Death

The weather outside is really gross right now. It started out as cold rain, then went to freezing rain, and then snow, leaving a horrible mess on the ground. Oh, and it's really windy and cold. Bletch.

Well, why is it that when I have time, I don't really feel like writing? Whatever. I'll just hit a few highlights.

I ended up getting the solo in choir and had to sing it at that convention in San Antonio in front of all those college choral conductors. Silly nerves. Of course, it was much easier the next two performances, though the acoustics were kind of crappy. Particularly in Houston, where the sound just died. Matt Haimovitz played two movements from Bach's second suite and both were spectacular. I realized I haven't been playing them quite like I should. I know it's his own interpretation, but Bach style is a bit dryer--more decay. Then we had a performance in New Orleans, paired with the Mozart Requiem. According to the composer, we sang "Après Moi, le Déluge" the best we ever have. How could we not, anyway, with text like, "I'm goin' down in Lou'siana" and "Bourbon Street awash with the blues"? I hope we gave the audience some comfort in knowing how much other people care for them and their situation. So, then we had to fly back to Chicago. But, of course, our second flight--from Dallas--was delayed and we had to wait for hours in the airport and on the plane before takeoff. Sigh. After that, we still had to take the bus back to Madison, after which I absolutely collapsed. It was about 5:45 AM by this time.

Julia Faulkner is kind of amazing. I saw her recital before tour and she has a huge, rich, widely expressive voice. The Strauss and Poulenc were particularly good.

I think I'm improving in lessons. Good thing, because I'm singing in studio class on Monday. We'll see how that goes. It seems I need to expand on both ends--keep resonance through the mask and space up high while maintaining connection down low. I think it generally helps if I use my breath. Yeah. And keep from tensing up.

I love learning pieces the week of the concert. They're not the hardest ... but still. Oh, which reminds me--anyone in the area should come to it. We're singing tomorrow (Saturday the 11th) at 8:00 PM in Mills Hall in Humanities. It's free!

I think that's about it for now. Tschau!

I was going to write a full post, but I just ran out of time. Here are some links regarding my whereabouts the following few days:

Convention
Press Release
New Orleans Concert

Oh, and I have a solo in one of the pieces we're singing at the convention. Whee! I'll be back with updates. Tschau!

TGIF. Can I get an "Amen" over here? Today was hellacious, but next week will be even worse--mainly because I didn't make it hellacious enough for myself this week. *sigh*

So, the Feast in Colorado was pretty much amazing. The choir was better than many church ones I've been in, but the director was a trumpeter. I don't seem to really know any trumpeters who can either sing or direct a choir exceptionally well. Whatever. He did pretty well, except he had an inconsistent / weird conducting pattern and never commented on vocal technique. The woman who sang most of the soprano solos seemed pretty skilled, but she had quite a lot of vibrato. I mean, a lot. I wonder which classical solos she's sung. Anyway, no performance of ours really stands out in my mind, but we did get better as the week progressed, of course. Also, the director asked for an unwritten high note at one point, but named it incorrectly (it wasn't the same high A-flat, which he called an A, he was thinking of--it was a B-flat). No one tried it. Oh well.

There was a "Fun" show one night. Two acts were from Les Mis. The less said about another trumpeter's "Bring Him Home," the better. "I dreamed a dream" was pretty good, but she seemed to want to do everything in a full belt and, not surprisingly, ran somewhat out of gas by the end. But you could tell she knew a few things about music and singing. Most amusingly, Mr. Kilough--President of the United Church of God--sang Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire." He dedicated it to his wife and actually pulled it off. At the end, a conglomerated band played, for a sing-along, "Home on the Range," "This Land," and "Country Road." All the verses. Of each. Not quickly. There really needed to be one of those Vaudeville canes to scoop them offstage. I would've left if I'd've realized they were the last act.

( The Good Stuff )

I flew back to Madison the morning of the Choral Collage, in which Concert Choir sang three pieces. According to the schedule, the crazy-high "Laudi" had to be memorized, so I furiously put that in my head during the layover. The randomly repetitive text combined with unintuitive chromatics made for quite a chore. When I showed up for the pre-concert rehearsal, I found out that the Laudi would be, of course, sung with music. At least I wouldn't have to look down so much. Second in the program was the Penderecki Agnus Dei, which is exciting to sing--especially when it reaches the fff 16-part divisi at quasi un grido. And then the rest stays around p, which makes for quite the breath support test with all the adrenaline flowing. Then we sang the Shakespeare songs. Fun!

Later in the week, though, each of us had to sing for Bev the hardest parts of each piece (about one on a part). Bleargh. I didn't do too terribly, I suppose, and she had to correct only one flatural I sang in the Laudi passage. Woot! Then on Thursday, she auditioned most of the baritones and basses for the solo in "Now Blue October" by Scott Gendel, my accompanist. I was kind of embarrassed for our section--almost no one seemed to click with it, each for a unique reason. I thought I did really well, except my low range just wasn't coming out. I guess I didn't deal with the "audition" nerves well enough with my breath ("I can sing C and below--really, I can"). Oh well. At least Joel seemed to sound all-around pretty right. So, Matt Haimovitz is coming in Monday--yay! Such an amazing cellist. Oh, and for good measure, check out this and the New York Times review here.

For some reason, "Always Be True" from Sir Oliver's Song popped into my head the other day. I guess it's impossible for me to be PMSing or anything, but it triggered such an emotional response in me. Part of it must be the beauty of its musical simplicity. Also, I love the line, "Love him / her like no other in all that you do." When we did that musical in the Milwaukee church, Carrie (who actually hated the song) sang it so beautifully, I have a hard time imagining it any prettier.

I recently received two Strauss opera recordings via la la! Die ägyptische Helena with Debbie Voigt and Celena Shafer and Die Liebe der Danaë with Lauren Flanigan and Hugh Smith. Both are outstanding, and both CS and HS were soloists in the Mahler 8 I sang here spring of last year. Woot.

But ... too long. Tschau.

Sorry for the post lull. Midterms and other scholarly baggage stormed my week.

I am ever so proud of myself. I got a sore throat and defeated it in record time. I started feeling it Monday afternoon and diligently took Vitamin C, Multivitamin, and grapefruit seed extract. It had peaks Tuesday and Wednesday mornings (don't you hate how sore throats feel the worst right when you wake up?), but by Wednesday evening, my throat felt great. On Thursday, though, I found myself with a bizarre hoarseness which robbed me of a portion of my range. That was gone by the next day. I suppose actually getting enough sleep (which I am!) helps a great deal.

First, choir updates. Now, I was immediately captivated by Vaughan Williams's "The Cloud-Capp'd Towers," but the other two Shakespeare songs have really grown on me. I don't think I like either quite as much, but their glories become more transparent with each singing. We worked on some King's Singers Folk Songs, too. I tried the low baritone solo in "Migildi, Magildi," which went pretty well, though I ran low on air after attempting to sing too much on one breath. Silly me. Oh, but although I was afraid of it (I was still hoarse), I held a piano "high" D and it wasn't strained or anything (the "ooh" vowel may have been some help in this department). My voice is so weird these days. More on that later. Anyway, we read "Lamorna" (meh) and the beautiful "O My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose," of which I approve most highly. Yesterday, Bev brought out her ubiquitous spirituals--"There's a Man Goin' Round," "Let Me Fly," "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child" (in which Merrin sang a GLORIOUS solo), and "Deep River." They're fun, but I don't find most of them enormously musically satisfying (barring the penultimate).

I had two lessons with a fairly short interval between them, as I'll be gone this Friday through all of next week (yay, Feast of Tabernacles and Colorado!). The lessons seem to oscillate between infuriating and qualifiedly encouraging. On Friday, after the exercise / vocalise portion, we worked on the Finzi "Come away, come away, death." I couldn't get my D's in shape, and he wouldn't let me forget it. At least he complimented a couple phrases and told me to sing the rest more like them. I could stand more compliments still, though--he hasn't said anything about my runs or non-vocal tract musical or linguistic abilities. Sigh. Then I had a lesson on Tuesday in which I sang the other Finzi ("Fear no more the heat o' the sun") and, unexpectedly, Fauré's "Claire de lune." The former went pretty well, though there are few fun high-lying phrases and some legato issues to work on. The latter is going more and more smoothly phrasing-wise, but I'm not getting the E's quit right. Last semester, in Duparc's "L'invitation au voyage," I felt like I was spinning some pretty glorious long E's, but I can't remember how well-produced they were. Sounds like I need to to a bit more practice room experimentation. So, as it turns out, he's having me try the E's in head voice. HEAD VOICE. He said it sounded good in what I thought was falsetto (yes, I know there's a difference; however, I didn't feel like I was using a full, good head voice). I'm having a really difficult time believing his ears now. While I'll acknowledge how my mid-high range has already improved, my way-high range has just gone to crap. Maybe that's because I'm forcing myself to use muscles in my abdomen I haven't really developed too well. Also, most obnoxiously, when I get throat tension, what I hear is, "Why on earth would you think to do that? Nobody but you tenses up there. I have no idea how you got that problem. Weirdo." Obviously, that's not exactly what he says, but he makes it seem like high stuff comes absolutely easily to everyone else (because absolutely everyone knows how nobody's ever had high range problems and that it's always easy as 3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058 ... to sing up there). Still, he complimented one phrase in particular and said it was essentially exactly right.

Well, Decca put up a special site for Renaaay's upcoming Homage CD. I was absolutely floored by the campy images. I think she gets it. So, I'm slightly concerned by a couple things (Gergiev bending to her will chief among them), but she does know pretty well what she's doing. Apparently, she started considering Tosca after preparing and recording the aria, but she totally realized it would be too heavy for her (ahem, ahem, Ms. Gheorghiu). I haven't had an opportunity to listen to the clips yet, though--I suppose they'll be the real pre-owning acid test. Or I could just refrain and wait for the whole thing. Whatever.

Well, enough is ... too much. Tschau!

My voice lesson on Friday sucked far less. What he's telling me to do is finally making sense, but it doesn't make the previous lesson suck any less (seriously, I almost wanted to give up singing, except I knew I wouldn't). So, it comes down to the fact that I haven't been using my breath correctly in my upper register. Instead of relaxing my vocal tract and having my lungs themselves do the work, I've been using shallower "support" (mainly my throat) to get the notes out. I can get pretty accurate pitches that way, but it's just strained. So now I have to sort of relearn singing in that part of my voice, but not entirely--I already know what I'm doing in my middle and low ranges. I just have to duplicate that when I go higher. The most infuriating part is making involuntary muscles do what I want them to. Pretty tricky. Well, who ever said singing was easy? It's natural, but it's difficult to learn. Unless you're one of those amazing people who do most everything right automatically (like Leontyne Price, Beverly Sills, and Bryn Terfel). Alas, I am clearly not among them. Hey, Renée Fleming said it took her about 10 years to really learn how to sing. And she could scarcely sing above a G when she was a college freshman. Hard to believe, eh? Anyway, I do know I figured out how to do the breathing thing correctly at one point (it's a sort of upward compression)--I just need to remember and do it enough to get the sense memory going. And then I will be a world-class opera singer right then and there. Hah. Haha.

This was the first lesson with my accompanist. He's, um ... really, really good. But that's why I picked him. We started with Zuiegnung, and I was uncontrollably giddy to be singing that with the full accompaniment behind me. It just sounded so much like the orchestral version--the tone color / overtones and all. I actually sang it a half step lower than I'd been practicing (a book / edition thing), which was kind of nice, and I hope not too weak. Anyway, he actually seemed to think I was doing pretty well and had me concentrate on being effective through the purity of my voice more than trying to add extra things getting in the way. My bass-baritone / Scarpia impression is pretty good, but it's not healthy. I don't yet have the breath behind it; I'd alter my voice in anticipation of the sorts of things I'll be more capable of in four or five years. But I like Wagner and Strauss and Verdi so much, it's hard not to expect to be able to do those things now. But there's a reason you don't have 21-year-old Wotans. It's easy to make a 6' x 6' x 9' practice room ring with all manner of overtones, but an entire theater is another matter. I guess I'll have to stick with pure until I know what I'm doing. Though singing mf can be nice ("How do I sing louder?" "Put more air through!"). It's hard to feel I'm doing justice to the piece if I don't use a "big" sound, but I suppose I manage.

"Beau soir" was kind of all right. The accompaniment is hard to stay with, though--particularly if you're used to listening to (and practicing with) the left hand, which almost never plays on the downbeat, but starts with each second sixteenth note. I eventually got the hang of it, I think.

I was in Milwaukee for the Sabbath, and the choir did special music, so I sang with them. But ... I had to sing tenor, of course. The Haydn wasn't too bad--the tessitura was all midranged, and it jumped up to E-flat just twice. But the Purcell Trumpet Voluntary ... that just wore me out. My breath isn't quite at the point where I can stay B-flat to E-flat for forever, so I ended up with my larynx essentially through my brain. Gyah. This is why I refuse to sing tenor with the slightest bit of regularity.

But that's quite enough about my voice for now. Tschau!

Choir was fine. Practice was slightly disappointing. Am I getting worse, or have I finally realized more of what I'm doing wrong? But anyway, most of singing today wasn't all that interesting.

The real raison d'être for this post: Homage. This looks like the sort of album [we] Fleming fans have been waiting for. The Age of the Diva has tributes to turn-of-the-century star sopranos in the form of arias familiar and un-. No jazz or sacred music--just operatic warhorses. There's Smetana, Tchaikovsky, and Rimsky-Korsakov. There's an aria from Massenet's Cléopâtre and Gounoud's Mireille. "Poveri fiori" from Cilea's Adriana Lecouvreur is on there.

Then we get to the stuff I'm really excited about: "Vissi d'arte," which I loved when I saw it on the Lincoln Center PBS special. OK, so she was throaty at some points around her lower passaggio and took it closer to the marked tempo than almost anyone ever does--big deal. She's a fine and individual musician with a spectacular voice and I will no longer make apologies for enjoying her recordings.

So, I wish she'd recorded "D'amor sull'ali rosee," but here we get "Tacea la notte placida" from Trovatore, which we heard at Volpedämmerung. I wasn't overenthusiastic about it then, but it was nice hearing her sing the aria. It should be interesting to hear for the first time her take on Jenufå's prayer. And then there's a Strauss aria--from Die Liebe der Danae, which can be nothing less than lush. Finally, Korngold gets represented twice: "Ich soll ihn niemals, niemals mehr sehn" and *drumroll* "Ich ging zu ihm" from Das Wunder der Heliane. Seriously, why has it taken her this long to record that? Whatever. She did now.

Ok, but, the cover? I seriously thought it was photoshopped when I saw the image on parterre box. Well, it probably is, but I meant after release. I hope it isn't supposed to be taken too seriously, because the headband is rather amusing--fittingly prima donna-ish, I guess.

I'm guessing the majority of naysayers are expecting this album to be obnoxious and self-indulgent and mannered. Well, "obnoxious" is pretty subjective; when she enjoys her voice, I do; and I have found Pavarotti's and Dessay's mannerisms to be much more "obnoxious" than Renaaay's. So, here's why I'm not worried: She behaved really well on Daphne and Handel (yes, even I get annoyed by some parts of Bel Canto and Four Last Songs, though I still love them) and what I heard of her most recent Met broadcast of Manon showed her in top vocal form. In addition, she listens to criticisms while staying true to her inimitable style. She's deepened interpretations and cut out some idiosyncracies. Not everyone will like the new album, but I fully expect to. One aspect of her albums I enjoy most is her repertoire selection, and that looks amazing here. So, this, I'll spend money on.

Enough gushing for tonight. I have a speech to write. Tschau!

(My apologies to Gregory, who probably collapsed from all my rose-throwing.)

Yarrrr. It be "Talk Like a Pirate Day." You should see me whiteboard. Avast! No biochem today! But we did learn about scurrrrvy yesterday. Aye, college students seem to be an at-risk group. Eat yer limes, everyone!

*ahem*

Not much to report on the musical front. My voice is inconsistent and hypocritical as usual. We got to sing "Full Fathom Five," though, which I was really craving the other day. I need a recording.

Oh, and I enjoyed Siegfried more than I remember. I mean, you've got the forging song, the dragon slaying, the attempted birdcall, the woodbird, many iterations of Siegfried's wonderful letimotif, and the amazing final scene with Siegfried's idiotic plunge through the ring of fire and Brünnhilde's awakening and such. I'm annoyed by how much time passes in the opera without a female voice, but such is Siegfried's life. We are (or should be) nearly as relieved to hear Brünnhilde's voice as Siegfried is--she's the first woman he's seen. Ever. Yay for delayed gratification, which Wagner writes so well, as anyone familiar with Tristan und Isolde can attest.

Time for much hearty grog. Or not. Whatever. Tschau.

I forgot to mention one positive moment from the lesson on Friday. He said I reminded him of himself freshman year when his teacher said his voice had something special that just needed to be brought out. Now, I don't particularly like his voice, but I understand what he means. I do think that "something special" leaps out in the practice room from time to time, but I'm not sure how many have witnessed it, so I don't even know what it sounds like externally. I just know that sometimes it feels awesome, and that "Tre sbirri, una carrozza" is often easier and freer than much else I sing. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, eh?

I had choir today. After warming up (and doing some spastic hamstring-stretching exercises upon my lament about inflexible hammies), we broke up for sectionals. We worked on the Penderecki "Agnus Dei" and "Après Moi." In the former, I was having the hardest time with high-lying passages. Any suggestions for singing those without tensing up while keeping a connected and deep-rooted sound? Or do I really have to lighten up? I should think "down" more. Maybe I'm too timid of being too loud and, therefore, heard. I just don't know. It'll probably be better when I'm more secure with the notes and such. The funeral march from the Woolf went pretty well, and my low E-flat was essentially there. I think we corrected a couple phrases we sang incorrectly all of last year. As no sopranos were present, when we reached the end, I did my impression of Beth's solo to a high D-flat. For great justice. (No, I can't reach that note anymore. It was more about the relative pitches.... ) Bev needed more time with the sopranos and altos, so she extended both sectional and break time. But, as we had half the voice parts to cover, we were done quite early. Five of us walked part of the way down State Street and back. We would've bought ice cream or something if bringing it in wouldn't've made the early release rather obvious. When we were back together, we worked on "The Cloud Capp'd Towers." Oh, the love.

When rehearsal was done, a bunch of us ate dinner at the Chafé (Chadbourne Cafeteria). We clearly need to do this more often, as when a bunch of musicians gather socially, hilarity and insanity ensue, including (I am not making this up) Hungarian aristocrat jokes. I loved, in particular, the polytonal "Mary Hynes" four of us randomly sang. It was really disturbing.

Required viewing for ALL of you: Tunak Tunak Tun. It's not opera, but it's good. Seriously: Watch it. You'll wonder how you ever lived without seeing it. And ... I'll leave you at that note and put some clothes in the dryer. Tschau.

Sorry for taking so long to update, but I got back rather late both Friday and Saturday evenings.

I had just about the worst lesson I've ever had on Friday. It probably didn't help that my accompanist had to catch a flight and couldn't make it. I've known for quite a while that tension is the name of the game--i.e., relieving it. (Well, there's breath support, too, but they're related.) I was singing various exercises for him, and he was seeing some shoulder tension. So he had me essentially slouch and keep my arms at my sides, where they started to fall asleep. And he wanted me to sing high with the same grounding / depth as when I sing low/ middle. When I'd get to a C or so, I'd get some wicked throat tension optimized by my new posture. When I pointed it out, he responded, "That's OK for now. We can work that out later." Correct me if I'm wrong (please), but massive vocal tract tension seems like a step back from shoulder tension and a tiny bit of throat tension. Now, he did say he'd have to "break me down" before he "build me up" because of the tension I've apparently accumulated, but ... that approach really worries me. Particularly when he hasn't heard me sing my best, or even a song / aria all the way through (much less one I already know well). I don't know what it is, but I never sound in lessons like I do in practice. Is it because I'm in front of someone (problematic for performance ...) or because I sit at the piano when I'm practicing? Also, he was utterly mystified when I mentioned something about raising the sternum for high notes, in particular. I'm not the only one who calls it that, right?

At the end, I was having a particularly frustrating time pronouncing "et sangloter d'extase." It's [e.sa~.glo.te.ɾeks.ta.zə], right? (The syllabification might be a bit off.) He said to combine the /r/ and /d/ into [ɾ]. I was having the hardest time keeping the second [e] high enough and not dropping it down to [ɛ] in anticipation of /r/. I thought he was letting much larger, more significant mistakes go, but I suppose I should be slightly flattered he would bother so much with this subtlety. Well, it is somewhat important, and I do want to sound French. I don't know why I wasn't making the right sound for so long--I'm usually much better at that. Oh well. C'est la vie.

I was preoccupied by the posture thing continuously for at least 24 hours afterwards. I finally got to a practice room today. And while I could feel a bit of tension creeping up my neck above a D, the sound would just be absolutely squelched if I "slouched" (or whatever you want to call that position change--sort of like "relaxed," but not where it counts most). Sure, I could force some sound out that was connected and rooted deep down, but it was chokey and did not feel healthy even if he had said it was "OK for now." I'm going to have to get some consistent good singing with less tension while standing up this week in practice with the new pieces so I can show him more of what I'm all about. Because my sound is about a third the size it should be in lessons, even if the practice rooms are smaller. Even though I am not vocally "finished' (who is?), it comes down to the fact that he hasn't heard an accurate representation / sampling of my voice. And I'll have to try to give him that this week.

So, inspired by an episode of Family Guy (the one in which Peter plays piano proficiently while drunk), I found some sheet music for the X-Files theme. It's so awesome. Also, I stumbled across a transcription / arrangement of the Imperial March, but when I started playing it, I was sorely disappointed. I may have to write in some notes over it to fill in the chords (though the rhythms still aren't complex enough). Then it might be acceptable to play at full volume.

I've decided to attempt to get through all of Wagner's Ring this week. I may have to take it an act at a time for Siegfried and Götterdämmerung (I'm nearing the end of Walküre right now), but I haven't listened to my marvelous Krauss 1953 Bayreuth ring with Varnay, Windgassen, Hotter, Resnik, Vinay, Streich, etc. nearly enough. And it's taking up all that space on my iPod--13 CDs' worth. So that'll be fun. I was going to do a cycle earlier the summer (I had aimed to do it when I was housesitting for my sister), but the way things fell, it just never happened. So, here we go! Ho-jo-to-ho!

I always fail so miserably when I try to transcribe that, but it's fun to try anyway. (I purposefully cut out some measures, btw.) At least I know all the notes. But, tschau!

Yesterday's biochem lecture had the most amazing beginning. Some minutes before class, Prof. Cox blasted "And he shall purify" from Händel's Messiah over the sound system. (We were to learn about protein purification that day.) Now, he makes a practice of playing music before the bell, but this in particular was so energizing--I was singing along and was all perky through at least half of lecture. It is one of my very favorite choruses, I suppose.

We finally started the first of the three Vaughan Williams Shakespeare songs today--"Full Fathom Five." It's so ... augmented (harmonically) and mysterious and otherworldy. I love it. I can't wait to sing all three straight through. I doubt I'll enjoy them quite as much as Barber's Reincarnations, but they'll be close. We sang the exhausting Swedish one, too (Laudi). I don't know how much more of this under-tempo rehearsing I can take. I'll scream. Or ... not. Finally, we started reviewing the New Orleans jazz funeral march from "Après moi." It's cool, of course, and I was glad to have my low E-flat in place (seriously ... who writes low E-flats in the baritone line?!).

Attention world: I love Händel's vocal work. I sang three arias in practice today, and I enjoyed every second of it. On-the-spot ornamenting is a fun challenge, too. We'll see how the lesson goes tomorrow--I know the Fauré and Donaudy and Finzi only so well. I think I'll get a better idea once I can concentrate on the notes with someone else playing the accompaniment.

When I got back to my room after choir today, I heard a phantom drum track. I tried to get close to the sound and find the source, but it wasn't in any adjacent room. I wandered into the hall, but it wasn't coming from a room across from me. I went left and took a right turn and saw an open window, through which a room was visible--a room with music containing an obnoxious, constant drum track. I traced the sound back and found the path: Room, through the open windows. [bounce] to the wall my room door's on, [bounce] to a door on the facing wall, [bounce]through my open door to the corner of my room. That is one magic sound wave. I tried looking for other places the sound could leak in, but came up with nothing--it was reflected at least that much, if not more. Insane.

Korngold's Das Wunder der Heliane came today! I can't wait to listen to it. Amusing sidenote: On the la la envelope, or lalalope, the sender had identified the composer as "Goldschmidt." Wow. Also, indirectly from la la came Sylvia McNair's Sure Thing and the opera I'm now listening to. I need, like, a month of free time to get to know all the music I have to a satisfactory level. I think a major problem is that I rarely have the time to listen to an entire opera unless I'm simultaneously doing something else. Well, whatever. I still enjoy my stuff.

So, I didn't forget to tell you about my jury, but I need to get some work done tonight. So, tschau!

There's isn't a huge amount to update about choir on Monday and Tuesday. We started Krzysztof Pendercki's "Agnus Dei" (by reading through it, of course). It splits into 20 for one chord (at fff, quasi un grido), and the lowest baritone note (which I sing) is lower than any bass note. Go figure. At least I'm not stuck singing a high F# or something. I'll probably like the piece really well once I get to know it, but it's really miserable to trudge through the first few times. We resumed working on "Après moi, le Déluge." Oh, the memories. We also started singing Lidholm's "Laudi" (mvt. III). It's high. And for reading purposes, we took it at a slow-sigh [ed.: WTF?!] tempo. Ugh. I quite liked it once we got the thing up closer to tempo--should be fun. It'd be insanely exhausting if it weren't so short and fast.

Practice has been fun. Oh, the music learning stage. At least I already know the Strauss, and the Finzi's a quick learn. Interestingly enough, the text of the Finzi is all Shakespearean, and he dedicated the songs to Vaughan Williams. Cool, eh? (Remember, we're singing the V.W. Shakespeare Songs in choir.) The Donaudy's coming along (though the tessitura's a bit high); the Fauré is taking a bit. Silly French music. Now, I have an unresolved vocal issue. Perhaps things can be clarified slightly in my lesson on Friday (if a short answer is possible), but I'll present it anyway. By the end of last year. my voice was very bright (think, "sunglasses required") and had a focus / edge that projected pretty well. Now, I'm experimenting with the color and the shape ... I mean, color and space. If I go a bit darker and lower, my voice seems larger, and it sits lower more comfortable, while still able to handle higher passages. So, how do I know the true color of my voice? Or is it always negotiable? Is the darkness artificial or a possible direction to move in (bass-baritone-ish vs. lyric / Kavalier baritone)? Now, for valid answers, I suppose you'd have to hear me, but I'd still appreciate input. Also, I tried to sing the Toreador Song tonight and realized I'm not quite ready for that yet. Waiting for that magical age of 25 sucks ... but I guess my voice won't blossom in the future if I really abuse it now. Time for more Händel and Mozart and Donizetti ...

I had to give an intro speech in Public Speaking today. I was the suck. I was fairly calm (if with a slightly elevated heart rate) the entire time before I got up, but when I stood there and opened my mouth, my nerves hijacked my conscious mind and I shook like I had palsy. I dropped my prop and felt like I made a complete fool out of myself. But I wasn't mentally nervous. So how the deuce do I deal with this? Practice could help, but here's where it gets funny: I am far less nervy singing solos in front of people than talking about myself. Not that I don't get jittery for the jury, but I deal. Maybe I know how to sort of focus that adrenaline, or whatever (to the expression of text!), when singing, or maybe I'm more confident because the music is memorized and (nearly?) fully prepared. But I'm really angry at my body for betraying my mind. How dare it?! Then again, I could be taking exactly the wrong approach by trying too hard to maintain my pride. Also, I just might have to put time into knowing the material I'm presenting really, really well rather than dreading everything and doing the winging slapdash the morning of. I can only hope I didn't look as stupid as I felt, which isn't all that likely. I'll stick to singing in front of 900 teenaged guys (done it), thank you very much.

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RAIN!

From what choir director Bev says, rain can make it take longer to warm up. I guess that's true. And perhaps I shouldn't've started with reading through the lower version of Strauss's sumptuous "Befreit" ... but I eventually got warm and was surprised with the notes I was able to sustain. I guess I should've tried the Donaudy after that point. But I did find a couple all right ones (read: ones that don't get above "F"; also, I get to trill in one--a facility of which I'm most proud). Those should go better when I don't sing them quite so cold.

OK, last year I was hating Finzi so much after the impossible-to-memorize "Lizbie Browne," but now I sang through a couple songs from "Let Us Garlands Bring," and I am smitten. With the work, at least. "Come away, come away, death" and "Fear no more the heat o' the sun" are both spectacular. I'm almost annoyed I hadn't already heard these, so beautiful are they. "It was a lover and his lass" looks like it could be fun, but I doubt I could keep a straight face through the line, "With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino."

I was bad and sang the Puccini, but it just feels too good in my voice. And the F I held in the phrase, "Tosca, mi fai dimenti care iddio" was quite possibly one of the finest I've sung. It had so much spin and thrust and ping. Delicious. I'll just try to sing that as sparingly as I possibly can. Hmph. Yeah, I'll be sorry if I ruin my voice singing too much of the heavy repertoire too early.

I moved to Tori Amos. I sang "Winter," played "The Happy Phantom," and sang "Little Earthquakes." I know I can't sing any of those in a public setting (can you imagine?), nor can I sing any pop music idiomatically, but I'd feel cheated to leave that whole body of work entirely to women. It's marvelous stuff--I almost think of the songs as "Lieder." I know that's the literal translation ... but you probably know what I mean. The range is kind of obnoxious, but I can take it up an octave for climaxes (like the third verse in "Winter"). I feel like sharing a cool lyric from "Little Earthquakes":
We danced in graveyards with vampires till dawn
We laughed in the faces of kings never afraid to burn
I dunno. It's just so cool.

When I had to go, I sang "In trutina" from Orff's Carmina Burana. So perfect. I should memorize all the words--I already have the music essentially down.

Now, I must tell of BW3's. I ate with Debbie, her dad, and later Jack. The waitress seemed to want to do me a favor, so I got beer without being carded. I'm a month and a half away, anyway. I had a bottle of Corona with lime and a nice big glass of the lusciously-flavored Guinness. Just a privilege of being this gorgeous, I suppose. *smirks* (I really am going somewhere with this--I promise.) I felt like such a freshman, but it really affected me a bit (I guess the originally empty stomach helped). After going to the bathroom, I went back to my dorm and promptly visited the bathroom. While in the room of boomy acoustics, I did some various vocalises. I normally sing all the time, but with a small quantity of ethanol coursing through my veins, I had an even greater proclivity to ... burst into song. Now, I know the volatile diuretic EtOH will dry out your vocal tract, but I felt like I had so much less tension. I was doing the one with an octave jump and then turns at the top, and the placement felt so right. I didn't have to move anything except my breath. Now, maybe if I get really drunk just before my jury ... no, bad idea. It can just be a matter of sense memory. Now, I suppose I can't exactly speak for how I sounded, but my voice just fell right in line. I might be on to something.

I suppose I can be finished for now. Tschau!

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I sang considerably more today than I planned to. Well, I guess hymns and the 10-minute choir rehearsal after church weren't that much, but when most of the choir members went to the Dullums after the Bible study, the singfest began.

Now, I actually enjoy singing in the Beloit congregation's choir for two reasons: I can reasonably refuse to sing tenor, and I feel much more proficient than I do in Concert Choir. Partway through the informal rehearsal, I was beginning to feel vocally tired, but I ended up getting a sort of "second wind." It was weird. So then I had fun singing unwritten high notes at the ends of the pieces and holding them as long as I possibly could. I know I was being slightly obnoxious, but I was having too much fun and it felt too good vocally to relinquish those E-flats and Fs to the tenors (well ... not that they put in those notes anyway). Also, it was amusing to see Debbie's annoyance upon hearing notes not present in the score.

We then looked at some parts of the old musical Jesus is Coming. Now, it contains some wonderful choruses, but there are some hilariously janky parts, too, as one would expect from a musical of that title. I tried out my solo cha cha and polka (though my intuition tells me a rumba would've been most appropriate; however, I have no idea what the step is, so I was sunk in that department) and exclaimed "King of Kings!" at the end (with great jazz hands). I couldn't help but think of the Streetcar musical on The Simpsons.

A bit later Nicki and I sang some random Andrew Lloyd Webber stuff. Hey, it's fun. Oh, and we sang a couple songs from the Lord of the Rings movies.

Oh, and my piano skills are somewhat sucky. I need to improve my sightreading (ick!) and expand my repertoire. Or, well, not. Whatever.

I'm getting Korngold's Das Wunder der Heliane through la la! I can't wait to hear the whole thing!! Plus, I'm always open to more Anna Tomowa-Sintow and Rene Pape. Exciting.

My CDs came today. I'm still waiting for a couple textbooks, but at least I have my new tunes ...

I had my first voice lesson of the semester today. We spent most of the time on scales / exercises (the stuff I hate but is probably very good for me). He tried to get me to relieve tension (jaw / tongue), do more with the breath rather than my mouth, release the diaphragm, keep placing forwardly to project, breathe / exhale from way deep, etc. The ideas mostly seemed sound enough, though it occasionally took him a couple tries to get the right words out. Also, he's not much for piano playing, which means I have to have an accompanist for half of every lesson. Yay for extra charges. After all the exercises and such, he asked me to talk about the text of "Come paride vezzoso" and speak it to him as if he were Adina. I got as far the "title" when he stopped me (at the same time as I forgot what comes next). A voice other than my normal speaking voice had sprung out from within me with, according to him, more space and depth than in all the exercises. There's just something about assuming a character or role, I suppose. Now, he might've heard more of this if I'd sung some arias with sustained notes and such, but perhaps I should find a way to incorporate that high soft palate into my warmups.

And now, the part you've all been waiting for. Possible semester repertoire:
Richard Strauss - "Lieben, Hassen" from Ariadne auf Naxos and "Zueignung"
Fauré - "Claire de lune" and "Au bord de l'eau"
Donaudy - One of 36 arias (any suggestions?)
Finzi - Something from "Let Us Garlands Bring" (again, suggestions?)

Also, he suggested I listen to some Piero Cappuccilli, Ettore Bastianini, George London, and Leonard Warren.

There seems to be a party a few feet down the hall. Now, why would anyone want to party the Friday night at the end of the first school week? Oh, right ... there's that.... But I'll be perfectly content with my reclusive fun. Yay! Tschau!

Not a whole lot to say today.

We finally got to sing in choir today. It looks like we have some intonation issues to iron out, but there is indeed a nice, big, full sound. Our soprano and alto sections actually aren't as strong as the tenor and bass, interestingly enough. We started on two of the Three Shakespeare Songs by Vaughan Williams--the gorgeous "Cloud-Capp'd Towers" (text from The Tempest and the sprightly "Over Hill, Over Dale" (text from A Midsummer Night's Dream). Both are fully harmonically enjoyable, and I'll have great fun picking out some notes from the chords' middles (the basses are pretty consistently split). Then we reviewed "Cert'nly Lawd" (a.k.a. "Cert'nly Joel")--not too tough. Yeah, not much of interest happened in choir today--it was just nice to be singing in a group again.

I listened to "Après moi, le Déluge" once, and it's actually quite good--there's only one section in which you can *really* tell we aren't 100% together (each voice part is pretty well exposed). The soprano solos, in particular, are *amazing*, and my "buzzing" isn't so bad, either. Our whispered section of "Havoc is there ..." has quite a neat effect, reminiscent of voices whispering inside your head (for Buffy examples, think mindreading in "Earshot" or "What have you done?" in "Dead Things"); this is particularly effective through headphones. In short, it's pretty cool. My favorite part is probably the grim "Deep in the water ...", which reminds me of the Dead Marshes in Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. I think this might have been our strongest section.

It looks like I got Scott Gendel as my accompanist for lessons. Um, woot?

I need to listen to it more to become familiar with all the tracks, but I'll still recommend Elina Garanča - Mozart Opera & Concert Arias. Her mezzo voice is large and voluptuous and handles the Mozartian phrases expertly while keeping up dramatic intensity throughout. Highlights, for me, are the Così fan tutte arias, but then again, those are the two I'm most familiar with. In any case, it's all good.

I have some CDs coming: Birgit Nilsson and Dmitri Hvorostovsky compilations, Natalie Dessay (Händel), and John Rutter (choral works). Also, two DVDs: Renée Fleming and Marcelo Álvarez in Massenet's Manon and Renaaay and Domingo in Otello. I'm rather excited about these, but for some reason, they're shipping to my "home" address (where my parents and brother live). *sigh* I'll get them eventually. But until then ... Tschau!

Well, yet another opera singer has left us. We've had Birgit Nilsson, Anna Moffo, Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, and Elisabeth Schwarzkopf pass within this year (Tebaldi and Rysanek not too long before), and now Astrid Varnay must be added to the list. She was 88.

I must say, Varnay was probably my favorite Wagnerian soprano. She had an enormous, opulent voice that could evoke any emotion through her deep understanding of the text. Some have called her the Callas of the Wagnerian repertoire, and I can't say I disagree. While there can be only one Callas, Varnay had a way with Wagner that could bring to the surface anything in the libretto. What a tremendous singer. To Valhalla!

Träume ...
Dass sie wachsen, dass sie blühen,
Träumend spenden ihren Duft,
Sanft an deiner Brust verglühen
Und dann sinken in die Gruft.