I'm either a little early or quite late in jumping on the Gratitude train, but either way I'm solidly on board today.
The audition tour is over, and we're on our way to populating a season that, in any one of the possible iterations, is going to be fan-flipping-TAStic. We heard some really wonderful singing, some delightful/compelling monologues, and hear from a number of auditioners who had positive experiences singing for us, irrespective of casting decisions.
It's enough to give an old grump the warm fuzzies. Feeling grateful to have carved a career that allows me to intersect often with people of artistry and generosity, and to have lovely colleagues that make even the most intense times fun and interesting.
On a personal note, we've been putting off having a fairly invasive surgical procedure done on Henry, our lab puppy. It's been worrisome, because the problem was becoming more consistent, the scheduling was tough due to our summer season and the audition tour, and partially because he's just a baby! But we finally bit the bullet, and he went in yesterday to have both elbows cleaned out and get fixed. He's traumatized at both ends, poor guy, but he's now home, snoring happily in his crate. I was a dummy to think that it wasn't going to be a big deal for the other creatures in the house - Hubs and myself, and the other dog & cat. But everyone was really off their game yesterday (I think I slept for a total of 13 hours. Avoidance, thy name is Lethe. Or 'napping.'), and even the critters seem to be relieved that Lil' Nibs is back home.
Feeling grateful for his safe return, and to be able to (eventually...) improve his quality of life through the procedure. (Wish us luck on keeping a labrador puppy fairly still for 8 weeks...)
Hoping to advance several things this week from the home office, including 2015 Opera Studio matters and 15-16 Chamber Music matters. Lots to do, but it's all fun stuff. My pantry is stocked for both Thanksgiving and the Great Pierogi Fest slated for the weekend after turkey day. The house is toasty warm, I've got a cup of tea and a book and a pair of wooly socks.
The Audition Tour for the 2015 season is over. GLORY, HALLELUJAH.
Seems like life should be easy now, right? But my mind and ears are so full that I'm not actually really able to carry on a conversation that isn't about opera or casting. I am officially the worst dinner guest ever. Good thing I'm staying in tonight, right?
To counteract the ear fatigue (and the brain fatigue, obvs), I spent most of the day writing my documents for my annual review (GAH), and nesting in a big way. My house? SPOTLESS. Stem to stern. Dusted, vacuumed, mopped, organized. I should throw a dinner party tonight, it looks so good! (Trouble is, I'm in my yoga pants and a knit cap, and I will not be putting on a lady face for any reason. Also, I made meatloaf and ate enough of it that I may never eat again.)
But the day wasn't without excitement.
A shelf in my pantry broke. Dishes everywhere, and one of my favorite pieces of cookery sustained a broken lid.
Superglue to the rescue! Lid saved!
But wait...lid stuck to the kitchen counter? LID STUCK TO THE KITCHEN COUNTER. #fixitfail
Acetone to the rescue! (I could just imagine the convo with the hubby, and the mix of amusement and frustration that would likely roll across his face.)
Our pup Henry found a new favorite spot - on the bed in the guest room!
Henry is afraid of the bed in the guest room, and won't get down. (Terrifying, all that carpet...)
Henry sang the song of his people for 10-15 minutes (because I couldn't believe he was stuck) before I hoisted the little tub off the bed.
Henry immediately ran downstairs and peed on the (newly vacuumed) living room carpet. (BAD PUPPY.)
an hour later, Henry treed himself on the same guest room bed. Again. A Rhodes scholar, he is not. I, however, can be taught...the door to the guest room is now closed.
None of the "excitement" was musical or operatic or, in truth, particularly exciting. But it provided just enough adrenalin to get all of the items on the 'to do' list checked off. And, with the cold weather finally hitting the DC area, I'm looking forward to spending the weekend writing, reading, and getting reacquainted with my piano while Old Man Winter breezes into town.
The return of hat weather. (I should blow off the salon until May...)
(I'm tired, and I should likely not be typing: please indulge me if you're reading this, and know that I'm a little more sensitive than I might be with more rest.)
It's a little before midnight on an autumn Sunday night. My day started when the alarm went off at 5am. A road trip to and from Philadelphia was on the schedule for today, with 8 hours of auditions sandwiched in the middle. It was a long day, don't get me wrong. I was very happy at the end of it to pull into my own driveway, & walk into a house with my hubby and pets and bathrobe and cup of tea.
But it was a good day. Art was made, and some of it was really fantastic! I was pleasantly surprised by repertoire - both spoken and sung - performances, and personalities. There were bold choices being made; they didn't always pan out, but when they did it was amazing.
But I'm feeling discouraged, at the very time in our highly individualized casting process where I should be getting excited. After all, we're about halfway through our auditions, and while there are still a million scenarios that could play out for our summer season there are several that are starting to rise to the top...the "what-if" game is never more fun to play than right now!
I'm struggling, every time I get on social media, with the grumpier, louder voices who seem to dominate the conversation: on one hand the singers are upset about audition fees, and suggest solutions that show very little understanding of the financial workings of our program and I'd guess many others. On the other, discussions from admins about the obvious shortcomings of the current crop of singers: intonation issues, singing rep that's two sizes to big & doing so poorly. It's a lot of negativity being tossed around. And it resembles, in some fledgling way, the struggles at the big house that we've all been talking about, and at a number of smaller houses across the country
I realize that it's a huge privilege to do what I do, to sit on the silent side of the table. It's not come without sacrifices. I've been through the audition season on the other side of the table, and I know it's a struggle. I paid for auditions that I didn't get with beer money that I very much wanted to drink, especially after getting the PFO, believe me. I also in the past have had my salary frozen to allow my company to keep their artistic programs viable. But here's the thing: it's an investment. Everyone - regardless of which side of the table - who gets into the business is doing so for the love of it, and not to get rich off the backs of others. We all pay for the privilege.
My inner Pollyanna hatehatehates these clashes. I realize that behind each side are folks who want to be understood, to have someone acknowledge the struggles that they are facing. And the struggles are very real. But no one is feeling as if they're being heard.
I'd submit that there aren't two sides to this debate: there's only one. And if we've learned nothing from the current state of classical music and opera, I'd hope that it would at least be apparent that we are stronger when we collaborate.
Going to bed. Sunnier outlook promised for the morning.
I know you’re thinking about it. You’re a Studio applicant,
and you’ve received an audition for Wolf Trap. And you scan the audition
requirements and see that there’s a required contemporary monologue.
Dang. (You may choose stronger expletives, but we’ll keep it
“Why in heavens name do they make us memorize monologues?”
you think, knowing that memorizing text without a tune is so much more
difficult than memorizing arias and song.
We all know that we’re not auditioning you as a straight
actor. So what could our motive be, and how can you hack the situation to your
advantage? Here’s the rationale, and what we’re really looking for from your
1.We’re trying to get to know you. Your 1st
selection in an audition is fraught with all kinds of noise: stress from
getting to the site, nerves from the whole audition process; technical issues
and dramatic issues and musical issues. Most folks surf two out of the last
three items pretty well, but the dramatic piece is usually the part thatis
subsumed by technical and musical concerns. (Rightly so; please concentrate on
singing beautifully and in tune!) So, with a monologue, we get to explore the
dramatic piece of the pie.
2.We want to hear you express yourself in
contemporary language. This is why monologues from Chekhov and Wilde –
while wonderful pieces – are not our preference. I don’t want to hear you
imitate a Downton accent, I want to see you wrestle with your own language, and
more importantly to really communicate with me. The accents and affectations
just make it more difficult to learn who you
are. So sit down with your favorite movie or TV show and memorize a favorite
character’s speech – it’ll be more fun for you, and I promise we’ll enjoy it
more than Mabel lamenting Tommy’s proposal styles.
3.We want to learn as much as we can about
you. Let’sbe frank: we see you
for a song, maybe two if time allows. The monologue allows us to see your body
language, your personal aesthetic; it gives us a different window into who you
are as an artist and performer.
4.I want to see how your artistry transcends
genres. Play around in another genre. You are an artist; I want to see as
many of your artistic faces as time allows.
We’ve been lucky so far: some wonderful monologues have come
through the doors here in New York. My notes are incomplete, but here are some
of my favorites:
· Luisa from The Fantasticks, only because its much harder to do than you
think. And the whole “I love to taste my tears” thing always comes across as
indulgent and soporific.
·Chekhov, Dostoyevsky. They’re AWESOME. But let’s
refer to the Wilde rule: 100 years since death = not the kind of language we’re
looking for. I’m looking for something less removed from your own experience.
We leave for auditions in a week! My pal Kim has posted an awful lot about auditions, and really, if you're auditioning this fall you owe it to yourself to read her thoughts and those great aria lists.
I've written a little bit about the auditions in the past, mostly from a less-reverent POV. They're not wholly recent (something I'll try to remedy this fall), but for what they're worth, they're here:
We're about ready to start hearing auditions. Which means I am nesting like an m-er f-er. Cooking, cleaning, swapping summer and winter clothes out (on a sunny, 80-degree day. #fail), eschewing my car for my feet; chatting with neighbors, taking long walks, doing yoga. All that good stuff.
Hubs has a big week at work, until October starts(end of the gov't fiscal year). So his job eases up on October 1, and I leave on October 2. Not great timing, although he'll likely be pretty OK watching ESPN nonstop and ordering takeout for the next several weeks.
We start the audition tour in New York, which is by far the easiest in terms of logistics: a three-hour train ride, a familiar hotel, a neighborhood we know and a facility that's easy to listen in. The only difficult thing is to find time to fit in visits with folks that I love who are there - there's simply never enough time.
Applications to screen tomorrow morning. (note: Oscar Wilde died 114 years ago, and therefore I would not consider his writings to be contemporary English, as far as monologues are concerned...something from Scandal or hell, even Captain America would likely be a better monologue choice for us than "Tommy has proposed to me again." Heck, even song lyrics are better. Please break up with Tommy.)
I've been inspired by MB, my new colleague, who is a light packer. (I am not a light packer...I pack ALL THE THINGS FOR ALL THE TRIPS.) Spending some time with the list this evening to see if I can really pare things down to necessities... thinking that streamlining the duds might streamline the trip. (We'll see if the hypothesis holds up...and if I can be disciplined enough to really pare things down.)
Heading to bed early. Hope y'all have a lovely week! Next update from Gotham.
I'm writing this at 8:51pm on a Friday night. Things should just be getting started, right?
Wrong. So, so wrong.
After a 4:30am wake up from the boys (they wake up WAY too early. Good thing they're cute.)
I've walked. Taken photos. Written in my journal. Crunched numbers. Screened applications. Walked the hounds. Made dinner.
DONE ALL THE THINGS.
Tomorrow is the Wolf Trap Ball, which is a lovely evening out with the hubs and some of my favorite colleagues. But, in order to sparkle tomorrow, mama's going to need some serious shut-eye tomorrow.
(How long do I have to sleep before I look like the 29-year-old me? Hell, I'd even settle for the 35-year-old me. She was pretty foxy, right?)
Three weeks until the audition tour starts. A few precious weekends before the road beckons. When I'm not gussied up in my fancy clothes, I'll be in my yoga pants, hanging with my boys, reading and writing and cooking and ignoring the monsters in the back of the fridge and the dust bunnies in the corners.
Hope you'll be spending the weekend doing the things you love to do. (If you need permission? Consider it granted.)