11 posts tagged “singing”

but I have to give him points for creativity.

Lots and lots and LOTS of points for creativity.

And he did make me laugh, so more points.

Okay, backstory:

I covered the lunch break of a girl in music last week.  Whilst tidying a wall of DVDs, I was approached by what could only be described (or so I thought) as my weirdo du jour (WDJ).

First he asked if we had any documentaries on the Mormon church, then asked my opinion of the shenanigans in El Dorado (I don't have opinions about anything in the news while at work), inquired as to whether I was part of that community (huh?) and then wanted to tell me all about how inspired he was by the recent events in that area.  In fact, he was so inspired that he decided to write some songs about the aforementioned events.  And he wanted to tell me ALL ABOUT THEM.

At this point, I dived frantically across the department to ask another customer if "Do you need help ma'am?  Are you sure?  Let me tell you about all our specials this week...." just to get away from the WDJ.

When my coworker returned to music, I mentioned this guy to her.  We agreed that he had overqualified in the WDJ department and thought nothing more of him.

Until today, when the music manager walked over to me and said, "Hey, ubicaritas, remember when you covered a lunch back here last week and some bald guy talked to you for a few minutes near documentaries?"

"Oh, do I ever!"  I explained the backstory.

She laughed.  "Well, thing is, he walked off with about $420 worth of documentaries."

Me: "WHAT?!!!"

Her: "Yeah.  Oh, and he's that guy who's made off with at LEAST a grand or two worth of DVDs since Chrismas."

Me:  (expletive expletive expletive)

 

Okay, buster.  Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.  THERE WON'T BE A NEXT TIME.  You've never been hit music before while I was back there, and if you EVER do so again, I WILL have a manager call the cops and I WILL get your license number if you (as you probably will, since the response time stinks) get away.

 

I have to say, though, that his approach was certainly original!

 

To end the evening, we had the incident involving about 4-5 boys who were about 10-12 years old.  They were running around the store acting like idiots, and were later found with several "gentleman's magazines," which are illegal to sell to under-18s.  Marcia, one of the managers, told them to cut it out.  One of them said, "You can't tell me what to do, and you can't make me leave because I haven't done anything."  Another of these young gentlemen suggested that Marcia perform several anatomically impossible acts.  She promptly had them removed from the store.  I might add that these were kids who were nicely dressed and fairly clean-cut.   A customer later told me that she had been down the street at another bookstore a few minutes before and that the kids had been there and pulling this crap there, too.  Their parents needed to be slapped. 

 

I know I haven't blogged much about singing lately, and I apologize.  The fact is that there is something going on there.  That something is definitely positive--I'd even say that it's a breakthrough--but at the same time it's indescribable.  I've tried to put it into words, but I can't yet.  All I can say is that things are clicking and lightbulbs are going off and I've just never (despite massive amounts of stress due to finals and finances and so forth) been this happy.  Ever.  It's glorious and awesome (in the original sense of the word) and incredible and undefinable and completely and totally overwhelming.  Thus, I'm letting it work without really thinking about it because I still don't handle emotion well.  I know that that's all really vague but it's as close as I can come for now.

Today=Monday.  Mondays are usually good days to begin with, despite their 9 AM piano class (I love the sound of a well-played piano, but that isn't what one hears if I sit at a keyboard, and 9 AM ISN'T MORNING YET, why does no one understand this?  But I digress).  There is a voice lesson in the afternoon, and a vocal repertoire class that evening.  Plus, lots of unstructured free time through the day, as I never work on Mondays.  Much of this free time is spent in homework etc, but I occasionally fit a nap into the early afternoon.  Naps are lovely things.

Today we had a guest master class in vocal rep, which is precisely what it sounds like.  A guest "lecturer" comes in and works with a few students while the rest of us watch and learn.  New perspectives, different approaches, all that good shtuff.  With me so far?  Excellent.

This was the first time that I sang for a guest lecturer.  I expected to be terrified, or at least nervous and unable to take a deep breath.  The latter frequently happens when I get onstage, even with people with whom I am very comfortable.

I wasn't nervous.  Just...not at all.  I felt fine.  I felt at home on the stage.  I didn't feel at all self-conscious, yet I wasn't just "zoned out," which I will do to avoid stressful situations.  I was there, I was comfortable, I didn't think once about how I looked.  I just became an anxious and upset servant girl, and sang about how dreadful it was that I had lost a pin, Heaven help me!

I enjoyed every second, and genuinely LOVED being onstage and making people laugh.  It was awesome, in the original sense of the word.  I'm just in awe.

Miracles abound, and are beautiful.

So (as usual) we had rehearsals for A Grand Night For Singing for much of the afternoon.  I eventually went back to the practice room to work on piano while waiting to be called to rehearse scenes in which I am, and just had a friend in the recital hall call me when I was needed.  It worked beautifully, and I got lots of practice in, so the piano teacher should be happy.  I even managed to work on some songs I'm doing outside of the musical, and yes, such songs do exist. ;)

Anyhow...where was I?

Ah, yes.  Right.  Rehearsals.  This thing pulling together.  Et all.

Today was the kind of rehearsal day where things just pulled together beautifully.  I mean BEAUTIFULLY.  We got SO much done, and virtually everyone was there, and everyone "got it," and I FINALLY hit a particular entrance correctly on the first bleeding try (wonders really never do cease).  It CLICKED.  I wasn't shy or embarrassed onstage as I had been until now, I felt at home, I instinctively knew how and what to do during the choir rehearsals, and I just felt...good.  It's hard to explain.

Suffice to say, all is well with the world.  Oh yeah, and I have tomorrow off from work.  How cool is that? :D

Ow.  Ouch. (breathes, then winces)

There is nothing quite like getting one's measurements for a formal dress to make one realize that working out might be in order.

Needless to say, those measurements go NOWHERE on this blog.  Ever. I think I'm still in shock. 

Suffice to say that I hit the campus gym yesterday.  I ran on the treadmill.  I did crunches, side crunches and leg lifts.  I did much upper-body weight lifting, including (but not limited to) bicep curls, tricep presses, bench presses, uppercuts, and shoulder presses.  I want my arms to look good in this halter-style dress, right?

Right.

I slept sooooo well last night; got 9 hours and could have gone for more if I didn't have class.  I woke up and started to roll out of bed.  I then made several comments that are not publishable, and which horrified the cats who were snoozing upon the bed with me.

Still, I feel really good (sore, but good, if that makes any sense).  I know I focused better in class today, and my piano and voice practice were both fantastic.  The music I am singing is stuff I've fallen in love with.  I looked it over during Christmas break and sang through it a little, but really didn't do much with it.  Today was the first day in quite a while that I did a thorough warmup and practiced for over an hour.  Oh, it felt wonderful!  It was the kind of practice session in which everything I picked up "clicked" beautifully.  My voice and fingers felt more nimble, and my voice was clearer and very on-key and did everything I asked of it.  I would have kept going for longer if I hadn't had to go to work.  It was so good to be back!  And, for that matter, I'm sure that the workout helped me in practice.  When I work out I am more in tune with my body and know if, when and how to ask it to do certain things.  Really cool.

Anyhow, just got back from work and am worn out.  To bed I go! (well, perhaps I'd best feed the cats first.  if not, I may become dinner!)

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.

Book:                                   The Inner Voice

Author:                                Renee Fleming

Originally Published In:  2004

Rating:                                 How much higher than five stars can one go?

 

 

Several weeks ago themaureencorps and shewhomustbeobeyed asked me what I wanted for Christmas.  I gave them a list which basically said opera, opera, more opera, some music, some books, some prints.  Obviously, this was a list from which they would choose a few things to get; I was just trying to make it easy.  We do lists for each other around Christmas because while I know that themaureencorps will want DVDs, she has THOUSANDS of them already so I would otherwise have no idea what to get her and shewhomustbeobeyed has specific yet wideranging ideas (this year, I got her temporary tatoos and a new sweater).  In my case, they admit to not knowing much about my kinds of books or music or art, so I give 'em a list.

Anywhoooo-where was I?

Oh, right.

Bear in mind that while I love classical music as a whole, I am still but a freshman, and really haven't familiarized myself with opera as much as some others have.  I grew up in a household with NO exposure to opera beyond the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas (don't get me wrong, I still love G&S).  So, aside from Pavarotti (childhood friend introduced me to him singing "Nessun Dorma" and I fell in love) I know almost nothing about opera or its singers except what I hear around me at school and read about in my spare minutes.  I watch clips on YouTube and am slowly aquiring a CD collection.  Right now I have some each of Joan Sutherland, Pavarotti, Kathleen Battle, Jessye Norman, Cecilia Bartoli; very wide ranging, but I'm still  trying to figure out what I like and what's what and who's who in opera.  This is a very fun time!

So, when asked what I wanted for Christmas, I threw some of the aforementioned names on a list, along with that of Renee Fleming.  When themaureencorps and shewhomustbeobeyed found that Renee Fleming had written a book, they got me two of her CDs and the book (as well as some delightful Degas and Monet prints, but that's another post) for Christmas. (end of second digression)

I just finished reading the book.

Wow.

Wow.

WOW.

I think I'm still trying to process a great deal of it.  But still---WOW.

She wrote that she wrote the book in part because she wanted a book like this when she started out as a singer.  It is brilliant.  Perfect.  Exactly what I needed right now.  And I'll be reereading this periodically.

She describes so many of the ideas (technical, emotional, performance, you name it) that I have or had been thinking about or ponder occasionally.  This really is exactly what I needed.  I only wish it had gone on longer, but she covered pretty much everything.

This book is not an autobiography of her so much as it is an autobiography of her voice and what singing is all about.  It is humorous, supportive and gentle.  She doesn't (thank you!) turn her life into a soap opera (oh, thank you so much!); instead, she touches on family stuff so far as it affects her voice, but doesn't air dirty laundry.  In short (now that WOULD be a first) the book is broadening, amusing, and classy.  She discusses things technical (mask singing, how to reach high notes, et all), businesslike (managers, for example), scholastic (her wonderful teachers through the years) and even relationships with directors/producers/actors/singers. 

If you are considering studying classical voice, are interested in opera or classical singing, or need, as a singer, a boost of wisdom and humor--READ THIS BOOK.  NOW.  And I don't want to hear about how you don't have time to read anything.  I (who am a firm believer in practicing, practicing a lot, and then practicing some more to the point of occasionally solfeging in my sleep) say that this is as important as practicing.

So, READ THIS!

this dratted computer ate the post I tried to do earlier (words cannot express how much I dislike this infernal machine, I spent an HOUR AND A HALF on that post) so I will try again.  If this post is eaten, the computer gets thrown onto the freeway in rush hour traffic.

Now then: Christmas spirit!

 

First, we went to midnight Mass...

 

 

themaureencorps is much too cool for all this

 

 

 

shewhomustbeobeyed is being tolerant of the diva and her new camera

 

 

i love ze christmas, i love ze midnight Mass, i love ze music, i love-hey!  did you just take a picture of me?

 

 

Regina Caeli et Terrae

(and this camera can zoom way up over the altar!)

 

 

poinsettias on the high altar

 

 

 

golden light all over the altar

 

 

 

adoration of the shepherds

 

 

 and then we went home to open a present and go to bed...

 

 

 

the angel on the magnificent tree (about 7 feet tall, give or take-the tree, not the angel)

 

and fell into bed, to get up the next morning and feed the herds of animals that are petsat, returning to open PRESENTS:

 

food, glorious food! (expensive, canned, once-a-year food at that)

 

the cosmos-dog will hate me for this (evil cackle here)

 

 

i think themaureencorps was just possessed by a zombie.  amun-cat is very worried.

 

 

 

 

thelibrarian has toffee, and cosmos-dog wants some.  pretty please?

 

 

 

this man is the biggest three stooges fan alive

 

 

 

i rest my case

 

 

the hat is very archie goodwin

 

 

what to get the terminator fan who has everything terminator?  why, the leather-and-bronze box set from the UK, of course!

 

 

 

where is cosmos-dog?

 

 

 

all bow down in worship of the glory of shewhomustbeobeyed's new shoes

 

 

this man makes most trekkies look run of the mill.  when we have "enterprise" tree ornaments...

 

 

all she wanted for christmas was an exercise mat on which to practice her nunchuck skills-AND SHE GOT IT!

 

after much present-opening and eating of turkey, i got dressed to go sing gregorian chant at my beloved tridentine Latin Mass:

 

in texas, roses bloom at Christmas, and I have proof!

 

the reading of the epistle

 

 

silence really is beautiful sometimes

 

 

 

why, why, WHY did so many churches tear out their communion rails and high altars?  this is too beautiful!

 

 

 

what it's really all about

 

oh, I had a wonderful Christmas!  It was spent with "chosen family," laughter, fun, smiles and love.  Also many darling pussycats and puppydogs,  who had about twice as much turkey as was good for them (they were out cold all day).  While it didn't snow, there were roses.  I sang and sang, and there was incense and chant and all that is lovely.  And then I returned to the house for more turkey and chocolate and banana bread and hot cocoa.  doesn't get much better!

I hope you all had as merry and blessed and peaceful and beautiful a Christmas as I did.

And remember, Christmas is not technically over until the 6th of January (Twelfth Night, or Epiphany), so feel no guilt about continuing the festivities until then! (err, unless you're trying to run and lose weight, in which case homemade eggnog may be a remarkably bad idea).

Merry Christmas!

...I am just recuperating from Christmas, several loooooong days at work, and a car crash.  (I'm fine.  More later).

However, I DID get myself a digital camera for Christmas (mucho thanks to the wonderful couple who went out of town for a week and paid me for pet/housesitting) and therefore promise to post pictures to go with the narrative.

The Hair Goddess and Spiderman went to Vegas with her parents for Christmas, but will return tomorrow at which point we will open packages, sip mulled cider and possible indulge in figgy pudding (depending on whether I feel called to make it.  If not figgy pudding, we may nibble on my homemade chocolate peppermint fudge (very addictive, so it's a good thing I've given most of it away).  As a side note, she hopefully had a fun and relaxing time.  Spending Christmas in Vegas with one's parents and an eight-year-old sounds like hell on earth to me, but she seemed to be looking forward to it.  I imagine she'll have stories, some of which I may post here.

I also must post about the night I spent with one of the pet-sat dogs at the 24-hour animal hospital (dog fine, with strict orders about NO MORE &*#$!*^ bones) and her subsequent reactions, the crash (of course), Christmas (mucho pictures), the in-bleeding-credible book I got for Christmas that was EXACTLY what I needed as a singer right now, and my resumption of running after over a week's hiatus (all I have to say is "ow, remind me never to do that again.")

However, for now I intend to take a benadryl and thereby knock myself out for a good ten or eleven hours.  The only physical problem (aside from minor stiffness) I have from the accident is a constant stream of adrenaline, which wears me out.  On the bright side, the house (and the fish tank, and the dog, and...) are REALLY clean. :D

Oh, there was music.  Lots and lots of music.  Lots of gorgeous voices (including the AMAZING carapiccoladiva, who I fully expect to hear at the Met in five years), a stunningly played cello, several very talented pianists and some truly gifted teachers all came together to make an evening of beauty, and accomplished just that.  From the first notes (glorious) to the last (knock-em-dead), it was all so much more than good.  Pics are posted (or will be) over at carapiccoladiva's blog; I'll probably steal a couple of them and put them here. (note to self: get digital camera!)

For me personally, it was a fantastic night.  I did the deep breathing/relaxation routine that La Maestra recommended for before performances (amazing how well things go when you follow directions).  I practiced like a madwoman for the last several weeks; in fact, I had a friend listen to me rehearse in the recital hall earlier today so that she could let us know how the sound balanced out. Finally, I walked out there feeling very diva, took over the stage, and just put myself into the part.  Incidentally, the song was I Remember, from Sondheim's Evening Primrose.  A little sad/regretful with mild touches of hysteria now and again as the character is flooded by memories.  I really enjoyed doing it, feel good about the performance, and was told that I did well.  I did have a little nervousness occasionally, but it was not the overwhelming terror I've felt on previous occasions.

However, a side note.  Remember these shoes, and how I raved about them?

 

 

Everything I said about them beingg darling, precious, adorable et all?  That goes double.  Everything I said abotu how comfortable they'd be due to the padded insoles?  Scratch that.  These shoes are beautiful, but deadly.  My feet are not amused.

Well, I have continued running.  And I hit .4 miles Wednesday.  Soon I will be at that half-mile goal!  Furthermore, I was invited (by some very cool music gals) to a 5K in FTW tomorrow.  I'm not going (have to work, blast it) but am feeling very re-inspired to keep running.  Maybe I can run my first 5K this spring without dying.  Not dying would be nice :P.  I've kind of settled into a routine of running/walking near my house on M, W, F mornings (after which I jump in the shower, inhale some yogurt, and FLY to school as I have early classes those mornings) and then going for a 5-mile walk on the Trinity Trail on Sunday morning.  I went last week with the intention of running there (since I didn't have to be anywhere, I thought I'd spend the time to go somewhere nicer to run) but was so enthralled by the gorgeous older trees and the critters and the BEEEYOOOOTEEEEFULLL big old houses (someday I'll have one, till then I'll drool) that I just felt like I was missing too much by running.  Instead, I walked much farther on the trail than I ever have before, and really enjoyed it.  I kept up a good pace, and focussed on taking really deep breaths of the cool, damp air.  I felt so good that I just kept going and going and going--and next thing you know, I was at the 2.5 mile marker.  Eventually I'll run along this path, but on Sundays I think I'll keep that optional just so that I can spend some time outside that is more peaceful than running.

Furthermore, I guess I assumed that the running would build leg muscles but not necessarily anything else. It would seem that I was wrong.

Today, while I was practicing, I put my hands on my waist as a gesture during part of the song.  I actually stopped singing for a moment because, well, I felt MUSCLE there.  Yes, there is still plenty of err, girth there as well, no doubt about it.  Still, I could actually feel muscle.  This is unprecedented (which is sad) but hopefully a foretaste of what is to come (my goal is to look damn good in a little sundress for my 21st birthday, and that would be freakin' AWESOME.)