9 posts tagged “diva”

I've tried to write this post at least five times, and it never comes out properly. 

At the end of this past spring semester, I finished my fourth semester at the community college where I've been studying.  I've been incredibly blessed to have had the teachers I've had: how many college voice instructors wouldn't even crack a smile when a person walked into her office and said, "I'm a nursing major, but I've decided to change to voice, and how do I do that?"  And my theory teachers have been naught but fantastic.  There have been others, too: the choir director who taught me how to be a section leader, the accompanists who've stretched me as a musician...the list goes on and on.

Howesomever, this college, being, as it is, a community college, does not offer a bachelor's degree.  I've finished over half the hours I'll need for that degree, but there isn't anything else for me to take at this level.

In March, I auditioned for the music program at a university in Fort Worth.  There is a voice teacher there under whom I'd like to study: I sang for her in a master class once and very much liked her insights and style. 

I walked into a hall with stunning acoustics and sang my head off.  I talked to instructors, and left.  Couldn't decide how well I'd done.  The accompanist said I had done well.  My heart said I'd done well.  My head said that it stank.  ("Stank," of course, being a technical musical term.)

A few weeks later, I heard that I'd gotten in.  All I needed to do was find a way to pay for it.  Did I mention that this college is private and that they charge nearly 18 grand a year?

I spent the next month getting together paperwork to get my financial aid status considered separately from that of my parents.  That was an enlightening but extremely stressful process.  All sorts of tap-dancing skeletons got hauled out of closets.  I won't go into details here.  However, if anyone reading this would like some pointers on getting independent student status when he or she is under 23 years of age, PM me and I'll be happy to share what I've learned.

A few weeks ago, I finally heard back from Texas Wesleyan (the school to which I applied).  The financial aid folks had approved my request...and I'll be heading for Wesleyan in the fall.  Orientation was last Saturday, and I'm meeting with the head of the music department next week to get a class schedule set up.  Come September, I, UbiCaritas, will be a college junior.  I am still having a hard time believing this.  Throughout the audition/financial aid process I kept expecting someone to call and say, "Oh, sorry, we didn't mean you, wrong person."  I think a part of me still expects that call.  It's a much smaller part than it used to be, though.

Now if you'll pardon me, I'm off for a celebratory lunch and bookstore run with my adopted family.  ("Adopted family" is the best description I've come up with for people who aren't officially family but who treat me like a daughter.  They're in town, and it's so nice to see them!)

Facts:

1) There are divas who always appear put together.  These divas never have so much as a hair out of place, always have the perfect mani/pedi going, and, to the root of the issue, their nylons would never so much as dream of creating ladders or runs.

2) I am not such a diva.

3) However, either a) a bottle of clear nail polish or b) a glue stick should be in one's handbag at all times, because

4) application of such a product to the ends of the run/ladder will prevent it from going any farther, which is a good thing because

5) if you don't have that nail polish or glue stick, you won't notice that run until just before you walk onstage, rendering it virtually the only thing you can think about.  Because, of course, there are DOZENS of people photographing your LEGS for the express purpose of catching such a wardrobe malfunction, right? :P  You KNOW that no matter what happens, fifty years from now someone will pull out a folder of pictures and say, "And that's UbiCaritas with a run in her nylons."

 

Dear Unknown Diva,

 

I don't know why or how I ended up with your music.  Did you once teach singing?  Did you sing or live hear in cowtown?  What made you give up your music?  Why, instead of gifting it or selling it to a fellow diva, did you donate it to the library book sale?

(The only reasons I've come up with are exceptionally morbid ones.)

Why didn't you write your name in your music?  Why?

Whatever the reason, though, thank you.

Thanks to your generosity, I walked away from today's book sale with seven song books for "soprano" or "medium high" voice.  These are good songbooks, too, and all ones that I'll use often.  Oh yes, they're a bit battered, and one is rather elderly.  I don't care.  I love used music; it has history--even if that history is unknown to me.

If I were to buy these songbooks new and with the accompaniment CDs you so kindly left in them, I'd pay a hundred bucks or a touch over.  I spent three dollars and fifty cents.

So, whoever you are, thank you, thank you, thank you, and may peace be with you!

 

the UbiCaritas Diva

It's official!

(SCREECH!)

I, UbiCaritas

(hopping up and down)

am officially a professional singer.  Got my first PAID gig today, as a chorus member in a performance of Handel's Messiah.  This performance will include members of the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra, and two soloists who I know and look forward to hearing.

(generally undignified and exhuberant behaviour)

Off to gnosh upon a nice stirfry and sip a celebratory glass of wine.

I have my FIRST PAID GIG!

I am a PROFESSIONAL SINGER!

EEEEEEEEEEEK!

If you've had the sort of day that has involved much head-against-the-wall-ing and a stong desire to let forth a piercing scream, leap through the nearest window, and run away to serve cappucinos in a cafe (location unspecified beyond Anywhere Very Far Away From Here), then these might improve it:

-having an "out of diva" experience

-finding your high C for the very first time (see above)

-having a slightly frustrating rehearsal, but it doesn't matter because the uber-wonderful director used the phrase "when you sing in opera houses" in connection with a short stagecraft lesson.  "When," not "if,"; future tense, and all that.

 

I think I'll go sing my head off now.

 

Unsure of what to get a kid for Christmas/birthday/Hannukah/et all?  You want to get him/her a book, but don't know what?

Have I got a recommendation for you!

 

When Marian Sang is a picture book about the singer Marian Anderson.  Best known for the open-air concert on the Lincoln Memorial steps, Marian Anderson was the sort of diva that I aspire to be.

I've read her autobiography (My Lord, What a Morning) and was stunned by the sheer grace of this woman.  Despite all the racism and hatred that she faced, she never once appeared to be bitter or angry in My Lord, What a Morning.  Instead, she was simply grateful: grateful for her voice and talent, grateful for the opportunities that she had, grateful for those doors that opened and the sweet people around her.  How many people in her position could say as much?  I can't imagine being so forgiving of such wrongs.

When Marian Sang captured her brilliant spirit and incredible story and put it into a tale for children.  The writing is lyrically lovely, and the pictures--all done in a sienna wash--are stunning, just stunning.

Yeah, $18 or so is a bit expensive for a picture book, but I'd say that it is worth it.  One of the editions even includes a CD of some of her music.  How cool is that?

Heck, I want this book in my personal library, and I don't even have kids! 

I've FINALLY received Joan Sutherland's autobiography.  The post office had returned it to the sellers because I supposedly do not live at this address.  I've lived here for nearly two years, this is my legal address, and I've received countless packages here in the past, but whadeva.  It finally came, after being sent once more.

While I've only dipped into it a little so far, I would like to say right now that this woman fits my definition of diva, which does not seem to be the common meaning.  When people hear the word "diva," most think of someone who is completely self-centered, makes insane and unreasonable demands, and would as soon slit your throat as have you compete with her.  I, on the other hand, think of my lovely and many diva friends, who  care deeply about one another and who want others to succeed as much as they do.

Ms. Sutherland falls plainly into the second category.

Her writing is gracious, authentic, and slightly humorous.  She seems to be at once a wonderful musician and a delightful human being.  So far there has not been even a hint of prima-donna attitude, of improper snobbiness, or of crudity.  She keeps the drama on the stage.  In short, she appears to be what my grandmother would call a "lady."

I'll write an actual review after finishing the book.

I was driving home from work last night and, as usual, had the local classical music station on.  The show was "Exploring Music," in which the host takes a composer or period or aspect of music and discusses him, her or it for a week.  This week it was Handel.  Since this is also Christmas week, the last music played for the program for the week were the choruses "Worthy is the Lamb," "Amen" and the "Halleluiah Chorus" from Handel's oratorio Messiah.  As I listened to them, it brought back memories of years past, one of which I wanted to put up on here.

While I was in high school, I was crazy about music.  Choir music, classical music, the little bit of opera I'd heard, Irish music--you name, it, I'd listen to it, sing it or dance to it.  Needless to say, I also persuaded myself that I could never do anything with music, so I could just enjoy it but major in something that would provide a firm job offer after school.  But I digress, as usual.

When an aquiantance from church mentioned a citywide community-based choir that sang the Messiah every year, I immediately thought "cool."  Now, I'd heard a few pieces of it before, but not the whole thing.  I'd even sung "Lift Up Your Heads, O Ye Gates" and the "Halleluiah Chorus."  (My church had a very unusual choir director).  Still, I figured, it's music.  What's not to like?

So I spent my Sundays that fall driving to church for choir (an hour away), driving back to the house, driving back down a few hours later for the community choir practice, and driving back to the house again.  All told, I spent about four hours in the car each Sunday, as my parents lived (and still live) an hour away from anything except cows.  But it really was worth it.  While not a professional choir by any reach, the vast majority of people in the 200-voice choir had at least some kind of musical training, from degrees in music (there were a lot of teachers in the choir) to good church choirs.  We sang it with a very good instrument ensemble, and the soloists were flown in from around the country.  The director was really patient, really talented, etc.  I had so much fun that fall that I did it again the next year.

Every year we put on two performances; a Saturday evening and a Sunday afternoon.  We had a dress rehearsal with the instrumentalists and the soloists that Friday night.  The rather large church in which we performed was always packed to the rafters for both performances.

I had a friend from church who had enjoyed going to performances of the Messiah many years before, but due to health issues (asthma/chemical sensitivity/environmental allergies etc) hadn't been to a musical concert in many years.  This friend and I had met in church; she and her husband were old enough to be my parents or (very young) grandparents, but we all got along quite well.  At some point, I had the idea of having them attend the dress rehearsal.  After all, I reasoned, virtually no one else will be in there, so the allergies/asthma wouldn't be as triggered by perfumes and such.

I explained the situation to the director, who was quite agreeable.  And so they came.

The soloists that year were outstanding.  The highlight of the evening, I think, was the bass/trumpet solo "The Trumpet Shall Sound."  Absolutely glorious.

At the end, I went and found my friends to ask what they thought.  She literally had tears in her eyes from the beauty of it all.

The other thing I remember is watching the soprano soloist very closely the following evening.  She was dressed in this stunning black evening dress with long net sleeves.  I remember that the neet of the sleeves was beaded and in a kind of spiderweb pattern, which sounds weird but was stunningly beautiful.  I remember her singing the aria "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth" and, at some point during that looking up with this expression on her face of "I live for making this glorious sound."  I also remember how gracious she was; she was smiling most of the evening and when she was given a standing ovation at the end of the program, she bowed and then turned to the choir, indicated us with her hand, and bowed.  I remember thinking (as a very awkward teenager) how much I wanted to be that: beautiful, happy, talented, and a lady.

I think I learned several things that evening.  First, how glorious Handel is.  Second, how music can touch people's hearts and lives.  And third, what I wanted to be.

And all that, which I hadn't thought about in years, came back to me as I listened to that Handel last night.

This is a ridiculously belated post that should have been set up TWO WEEKS ago.  Apologies!

Anyhow, there was a Christmas concert at my school with two excellent pianist each playing a piano.  I'd never been to a piano concert before, and realized just how much I've missed!  Iryna Simoneaux and Dr. Oscar Dressler stunned their audience with selections from Tchaicovsky's Nutcracker, several Christmas carol arrangements, and a glorious final "Ode to Joy."  It certainly put me in the Christmas spirit, and I have vowed to attend anything else of the sort that may occur in the area in the future (hint, hint!)

These pictures were taken by a photographer who attends a class with me.  I promised him that I'd post these, as I've seen his previous work and, to my admittedly uneducated eyes, it is very good.  His name is Luigee Mroof, of Mroof Photography.  If you are interested in having him photograph you, your event, or whatever else, he can be contacted at MroofPhotography@yahoo.com.  Samples of his work are available at www.myspace.com/mroofphotography.

And so, without further ado, Ms. Iryna Simoneaux and Dr. Oscar Dressler!

 

Acknowledging well-deserved applause

 

 

Nothing says Christmas like Tchaikovsky, and btw, isn't that a gorgeous poinsetta?

 

 

 

The hand of a pianist.  Note the detail; this was shot from across a recital hall.

 

 

Same pianist, who is making all this look very easy...

 

 

Can you tell he loves making music?

 

 

Christmas time is here!

 

 

The pianist diva making beautiful music

 

 

 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

 

This last one is a picture of the Christmas tree at Sundance Square in downtown FTW.

And finally, here is an example of his more "advertisement"-style photography.  This is from a previous concert, which I was unable to attend:

 

 

So, here's a shameless plug for a fellow student: if you have a wedding, senior pictures, portfolio pics or whatever that need to be done, email Mroof Photography!