Safe and sound
For once, I really enjoyed myself in NY. That's not to say I regret getting back to Minneapolis just ahead of the snowstorm that dumped 29.5" of snow in Central Park!
On Wednesday, I walked everywhere, but stayed fairly close to Amanda's place. I ate food that was bad for me (a calzone for lunch, chinese take-out for dinner. I did decide to go to the Cloisters (located in Fort Tryon state park) and see the Medieval art. Before I left, I closed my eyes and tried to picture everything that struck me. The tapestries, the carvings, the paintings, the pillars, the door arches. Yup, pretty much everything. I could write an entire entry on each item I looked at, but instead will point you to the flickr gallery.
I already talked about Thursday, so I'll skip ahead to the audition. I was nervous when I arrived at DiCapo Opera Theatre, and thought, "What am I doing?" The other singers just looked like they had more experience, more talent, more everything than I did. But, I thought "Now is not the time for self-doubt." I remembered something Amanda had said the night before: "I may not always feel like it, but I know how to walk into a room and think 'I am going to f___ing rock your world.'" And as I sat in the hallway, I realized I was hunched over, trying to be small, obscure, insignificant, unnoticed. And it hit me: I want to be noticed, I have to be noticed, and being able to turn it on when the music starts isn't good enough; I do myself no favors by withdrawing before I sing. And with that realization, I felt confident, ready, excited, convinced I was going to rock their world. I was ready to "turn it on" for an audience (nice to have more than just two people in the room). So, with my new-found confidence, I said a few prayers, and rose from my seat. I walked over and introduced myself to another singer, even though I've seen him perform professionally and know I'm not even close to being in his league. I chatted with my accompanist about the piano, and pianos in general. I wanted to engage him, make him comfortable, and feel involved. I wanted to have fun! And, I have more fun when I'm collaborating with my pianist than merely singing with an accompanist. I looked the impresarios in the eye and smiled as they walked back into the hall after their break; one of them told me, "Break a leg!"
I walked into the room, and let everyone get settled. I was introduced, and there was the inevitable joke about my name. I began with Dandini's aria, and despite feeling a little cramped (very little room to move -- the piano was at the edge of the stage) I thought I sang and acted well. The high notes (Ab, G) all came out just how I wanted them too. And other than a little wobble here or there, and not getting enough breath in one spot, I was very happy. I was fully expecting the panel to ask for the Count's aria next (which I was dreading since I haven't performed it in public for at least 8 years), but instead, they asked for Mab. From that point on, it was smooth sailing -- Mab is my "calling card" aria, and it's the best thing I do, no question. So, feeling elated that I wasn't singing the Count, pleased with Dandini, and confident from my self-talk beforehand, I chose to have fun with Mab. I never like to say something is my "best" performance, but honestly, this was certainly one of the best.
As I was walking out of the room, one of the impresarios asked how old I was. "30, as of about 5 minutes ago!" I answered. They all laughed and wished me a happy birthday. So, given all that, I don't think they'll easily forget Paul Hindemith, baritone :-)
I met Amanda at Grand Central, and we met a couple of her friends for dinner. After that, we took a taxi to the Time Warner Building on Columbus Circle (on the southwest corner of Central Park) and had drinks at Stone Rose. We walked over to Tower Records near Lincoln Center before sending Adam on his way, and going ours. We took the subway back to Amanda's, where we capped the evening with an episode of Desperate Housewives. In the morning, we got up super early, and went to a local diner for breakfast. Then, the car came and whisked me away to the airport, away from the most enjoyable time I've ever spent in New York City.
As I walked around the city on my birthday, I was overcome with a sense of gratitude. I'm grateful that I'm able to sing. That I have a voice. That I can use it, and use it well. That I can enjoy this process. That I live someplace where I'm free to use my talents. That I have supportive friends and family. That I am loved. Can I be anything other than grateful?
On Wednesday, I walked everywhere, but stayed fairly close to Amanda's place. I ate food that was bad for me (a calzone for lunch, chinese take-out for dinner. I did decide to go to the Cloisters (located in Fort Tryon state park) and see the Medieval art. Before I left, I closed my eyes and tried to picture everything that struck me. The tapestries, the carvings, the paintings, the pillars, the door arches. Yup, pretty much everything. I could write an entire entry on each item I looked at, but instead will point you to the flickr gallery.
I already talked about Thursday, so I'll skip ahead to the audition. I was nervous when I arrived at DiCapo Opera Theatre, and thought, "What am I doing?" The other singers just looked like they had more experience, more talent, more everything than I did. But, I thought "Now is not the time for self-doubt." I remembered something Amanda had said the night before: "I may not always feel like it, but I know how to walk into a room and think 'I am going to f___ing rock your world.'" And as I sat in the hallway, I realized I was hunched over, trying to be small, obscure, insignificant, unnoticed. And it hit me: I want to be noticed, I have to be noticed, and being able to turn it on when the music starts isn't good enough; I do myself no favors by withdrawing before I sing. And with that realization, I felt confident, ready, excited, convinced I was going to rock their world. I was ready to "turn it on" for an audience (nice to have more than just two people in the room). So, with my new-found confidence, I said a few prayers, and rose from my seat. I walked over and introduced myself to another singer, even though I've seen him perform professionally and know I'm not even close to being in his league. I chatted with my accompanist about the piano, and pianos in general. I wanted to engage him, make him comfortable, and feel involved. I wanted to have fun! And, I have more fun when I'm collaborating with my pianist than merely singing with an accompanist. I looked the impresarios in the eye and smiled as they walked back into the hall after their break; one of them told me, "Break a leg!"
I walked into the room, and let everyone get settled. I was introduced, and there was the inevitable joke about my name. I began with Dandini's aria, and despite feeling a little cramped (very little room to move -- the piano was at the edge of the stage) I thought I sang and acted well. The high notes (Ab, G) all came out just how I wanted them too. And other than a little wobble here or there, and not getting enough breath in one spot, I was very happy. I was fully expecting the panel to ask for the Count's aria next (which I was dreading since I haven't performed it in public for at least 8 years), but instead, they asked for Mab. From that point on, it was smooth sailing -- Mab is my "calling card" aria, and it's the best thing I do, no question. So, feeling elated that I wasn't singing the Count, pleased with Dandini, and confident from my self-talk beforehand, I chose to have fun with Mab. I never like to say something is my "best" performance, but honestly, this was certainly one of the best.
As I was walking out of the room, one of the impresarios asked how old I was. "30, as of about 5 minutes ago!" I answered. They all laughed and wished me a happy birthday. So, given all that, I don't think they'll easily forget Paul Hindemith, baritone :-)
I met Amanda at Grand Central, and we met a couple of her friends for dinner. After that, we took a taxi to the Time Warner Building on Columbus Circle (on the southwest corner of Central Park) and had drinks at Stone Rose. We walked over to Tower Records near Lincoln Center before sending Adam on his way, and going ours. We took the subway back to Amanda's, where we capped the evening with an episode of Desperate Housewives. In the morning, we got up super early, and went to a local diner for breakfast. Then, the car came and whisked me away to the airport, away from the most enjoyable time I've ever spent in New York City.
As I walked around the city on my birthday, I was overcome with a sense of gratitude. I'm grateful that I'm able to sing. That I have a voice. That I can use it, and use it well. That I can enjoy this process. That I live someplace where I'm free to use my talents. That I have supportive friends and family. That I am loved. Can I be anything other than grateful?