Pun-kin Pie for the Holidays

Yes, I know. You don't hear from me for weeks and then all of the sudden, three in a row. Sometimes it be's that way.

We all know how much I love a good pun. Lately I have been meeting virtual maestros of the form. One of my colleagues at HBU, Jason Lester, got some really bad (by which I mean, good) ones off at NATS last week (an entirely different post about that one day), and of course, John Yarrington would be nothing without his witty repartees.

Anyhoo. I'm singing a concert version of Porgy and Bess in February with the National Philharmonic. With such, the challenge is always how to pare a 4-hour opera into something that will fit on the bill for an orchestral concert. Let me tell you; I envy no one that task. Gershwin was absolutely brilliant and crafted a beautiful show with not a lot of extra, um, extraneous stuff.

Long story short, what often happens is that roles get compressed and combined. I must admit to a bit of astonishment when I was asked to sing both Clara and Maria. Again, for the uninitiated (which included me until this past May), there are not two more wildly divergent roles in the piece. Well, except perhaps, Clara and Porgy. My two ladies are diffrent people, different voice types and oh yeah, they often appear in the same scene.

But you know me. I went with it, figuring all would become clear when the cut list came out. For the most part, it did, although I was left with one page on which I was to sing both people, in conversation. To wit:

Maria: Why been out on that wharf so long, Clara? You got no cause to worry 'bout yo' man. Dis goin' be a fine day.

Clara: I never see de water look so black. It sits there waitin', holdin' its breath, list'nin for dat hurricane bell.

Un peu de schizophrenia, to be sure.

Since the conductor, Gary Schneider, invited me to ask any questions I had, I did. It was a short list of little, easy things requiring clarification, and my little Three Faces of Eve moment. This being me and it being around 4 a.m., I got a little punchy. Here's how it went down:

MEG
[blah, blah, blah...] Thanks for the "clara-fication" (pun
definitely intended)!

I awoke to an e-mail from the conductor, clearly a like mind– only more awake:

GS
Hope this completes all of your necessary Clara-fications. We all want to give our very Bess performance so that the audience doesn't feel like we are Robbins them. I know that having no outstanding confusion will allow you to give a Serena performance. I hope you have a very Happy Thanksgiving and a very Maria Christmas.

God, I love what I do. Thanks to Mo. Schneider for his permission to post!

Not dead yet! (The Classical Music Version)

God, I love what I do!

I am fully aware that I am extremely blessed to be able to say that. I am similarly fully aware that I occasionally need reminders, as I am easily annoyed, made gruff, or otherwise prone to be pissy about the day-to-day turns of my life. It is indeed strange that an abundance of the very thing one seeks often causes one to begrudge the thing.

I digress. It seems particularly appropriate as Thanksgiving nears, to take stock of one's life and express one's gratitude. I have rather a lot to be thankful for!

In absolutely no particular order:
- I am well.
- I am housed. In a home I own (or rather, am in the generation-long process of owning).
- I am employed.
- I am singing. A lot.
- I am appreciated for the singing I do.
- I am teaching others to sing well and enjoy the gift of singing.
- I am appreciated for the teaching I do.
- I am blessed with amazing family whom I love dearly and miss terribly.
- I am blessed with friendships I in no way deserve, and treasure all the more because of it.
- I have seen and continue to see parts of the world others can only dream of.
- School has not yet killed me. And is almost over.

So yes, I love what I do.

One of the reasons I love what I do is because I am able to see it in all of its glory and ugliness. Which requires, among other things, a seriously healthy sense of humor.

In my Bach Cantatas class we discussed various methodologies for studying the cantata canon, and really, classical music as a whole. One of the controversies is whether to view/study/perform the literature as museum pieces or as living entities with relevance to our current age and lives.

I hope that what I do and what I teach others to do is the latter. Informed by the former. Yeah, I like it both ways sometimes.

In other words, in order to perform Bach (per esempio), do I need to immerse myself in 18th century German Lutheranism as practiced in Weimar, Muhlhausen and Leipzig, or do I need to look into the music and see what Old Johnny has to say to Divameg in 2007?

Here's a perfect example:




There are some who would look at that and faint dead away, aghast that such a travesty had been perpetrated upon Puccini's most perfect aria (a.k.a. Soprano National Anthem #1). To their credit, none of my friends and colleagues have reacted that way thus far.

Another way to look at it is to applaud the ingenuity that lead two (sets of) people to find a common ground between their (apparently) divergent musical performing genres. Or to listen exceedingly carefully to the "Pips," hear that they are perfectly translating the gist– nay, the essence– of the text of the aria (fortunately, there's also a scrolling supertitle), and rejoice that they are making a "dead" art relevant to a generation that frequents the Galleria more than the Wortham.

Or you could just be me and scream, "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant," while laughing hysterically.

Happy Thanksgiving, Hobbit Fans! I am also extremely grateful for you. All four of you.

Vive la difference(?)

Hello Hobbit Fans!

Greetings from the Four Seasons Hotel in Austin, TX. This most definitely qualifies as one of the nicer perks of the itinerant singer biz. This weekend I am singing the Soprano I solos in the Bach Magnificat with the Austin Symphony. I get to sing with 3 singers I adore and one I am getting to know-- and adore. And of course, I adore the conductor, Peter Bay. It's a lovefest. Really.

I stay in a lot of hotels in this business. Sometimes I get lucky. This is one of those times. Moscow was another. Loved that hotel. And the one in Prague was pretty hot too. I got a suite, that time.

One thing you notice, is that different, shall we say levels of hotels have various pros and cons. One would think that all the pros would be on the side of the high-end hotels, but one would be wrong. Some are downright counterintuitive.

Take internet access, for one. This post is coming to you via the hotel's high-speed connection. Which I have to pay for. A not-quite-nominal fee. Last weekend, I was in Dallas, at a mid-price hotel. And the internet was free. And fast. Go figure.

On the other hand, there's the housekeeping services. At mid-range hotels, one basically has to vacate or otherwise allow housekeeping to do your room fairly early on in the day-- or plan to not have it done. As is quite often the case when I am away, I was in my room all day until I had a late afternoon appointment. At my current place of lodging, they called me to inquire as to when they could service the room-- and offered to do it at my convenience. Which in this case was 5:30 p.m.

About that appointment. I managed to pick up a nasty neck/shoulder spasm yesterday. Not sure how, but I would not be surprised to find that stress was a major culprit, this being the end of the semester and all. I've had these before, but not in a long while. Don't miss 'em either. One of my colleagues suggested I try acupuncture. I had never done it before, but figured, short of finding and convincing my doc to prescribe me some Flexeril, I might as well give being stuck a try.

It was a cool experience. Took about a hour. Needles in my neck, back and shoulder-- some attached to an electrical muscle stimulator, a heat lamp, and cupping. If you don't know what that is, it's dozens of small suction cups vacuumed onto your skin. I'm told it will leave bruises. So far, not so much. Good thing my gown has a mandarin collar. After all of that and some massage, I actually feel tons better. Not completely relieved, but at least my ear doesn't hurt and I can move my arm and neck.

And I never thought I'd say this: Austin's traffic makes Houston look like a backwater. What the hell? I've been driving in Austin for a while now, and I've never seen it like this. Rumor has it the toll roads-- or rather opposition to them-- is crowding the free roads.

Anyhoo-- off to bask in my amazing king bed with the down duvet and watch Law & Order on the jumbo flat-screen. I could seriously get used to this!