We are Excitement!
Such melodrama!! For about a year, I've been working on becoming a regular performer at the Friday Morning Music Club, a private performance-sponsoring institution that requires a rigorous audition, then schedules those that pass that test at various venues in and around the city. They are highly regarded and just about anybody who is anybody as a classical performer, instrumentalist or vocalist, is a member.
Well, I blew them away at my audition last spring, but hadn't gotten onto their performance schedule until yesterday, when the scheduler finally called and asked if I could do Ravel's incredible "Scheherazade" cycle on June 8th. OMG!!! Yes!! says I, of course. My wonderful accompanist and I have been working on that piece for about six months, and in another six months, it would be just about performance-ready. Perfect! Except.... my accompanist let me know that her daughter was pregnant and was due in mid-May, and she had promised to be there for the birth, and for a month afterwards. Gah!!!
Depression. Anxiety. Bleh!! Well, I put myself back together this morning and started to call around, and at the top of my list was the premier accompanist in the city, who I've worked with in workshops, but who is a bit of a flake, difficult to get ahold of and somewhat unreliable, as well as being busy as hell all the time because he's... well, he's one of the best on the East Coast.
I got his answering machine, left my name and number, along with a descriptive reminder of how he knew me, and what my problem was. I told myself that if I didn't hear back from him in about two days (which was my expectation), I would move on to the next name on my list. (Hey, it was a shot in the dark.) Well, he called me back within a half an hour, said with a laugh that of course he remembered me and I didn't need to "describe" myself to him, that he was very familiar with the Ravel (one of the most difficult piano accompaniments in *all* of recital literature), was free on June 8th and would love to work with me.
Jeez. I barely managed to keep from sqealing like a schoolgirl. (Well, I actually may have squealed like a schoolgirl, now that I think about it.)
This is a BIG EFFING DEAL for me. Not only do I have the best accompanist in the city on one of the most difficult pieces in the repertoire, but he sponsors and performs in recitals all the time and if he now thinks of me as among his cadre of first rate singers, I'll have an entry into a lot more venues. So, FC I love you, and even if you are a bit flaky, you've saved my ASS.
ETA: For those of you who might be surprised to see such an outpouring of personal shit on my lj, I thought I had flocked the post to a few know-in-person buddies, but now that it's out there, what the hell, flocking it now seems rude. *g*
Well, I blew them away at my audition last spring, but hadn't gotten onto their performance schedule until yesterday, when the scheduler finally called and asked if I could do Ravel's incredible "Scheherazade" cycle on June 8th. OMG!!! Yes!! says I, of course. My wonderful accompanist and I have been working on that piece for about six months, and in another six months, it would be just about performance-ready. Perfect! Except.... my accompanist let me know that her daughter was pregnant and was due in mid-May, and she had promised to be there for the birth, and for a month afterwards. Gah!!!
Depression. Anxiety. Bleh!! Well, I put myself back together this morning and started to call around, and at the top of my list was the premier accompanist in the city, who I've worked with in workshops, but who is a bit of a flake, difficult to get ahold of and somewhat unreliable, as well as being busy as hell all the time because he's... well, he's one of the best on the East Coast.
I got his answering machine, left my name and number, along with a descriptive reminder of how he knew me, and what my problem was. I told myself that if I didn't hear back from him in about two days (which was my expectation), I would move on to the next name on my list. (Hey, it was a shot in the dark.) Well, he called me back within a half an hour, said with a laugh that of course he remembered me and I didn't need to "describe" myself to him, that he was very familiar with the Ravel (one of the most difficult piano accompaniments in *all* of recital literature), was free on June 8th and would love to work with me.
Jeez. I barely managed to keep from sqealing like a schoolgirl. (Well, I actually may have squealed like a schoolgirl, now that I think about it.)
This is a BIG EFFING DEAL for me. Not only do I have the best accompanist in the city on one of the most difficult pieces in the repertoire, but he sponsors and performs in recitals all the time and if he now thinks of me as among his cadre of first rate singers, I'll have an entry into a lot more venues. So, FC I love you, and even if you are a bit flaky, you've saved my ASS.
ETA: For those of you who might be surprised to see such an outpouring of personal shit on my lj, I thought I had flocked the post to a few know-in-person buddies, but now that it's out there, what the hell, flocking it now seems rude. *g*