A 2017 Retrospective

A lot of things happened in 2017. One of my friends did a chart with colored markers but I'm much more into typed lists than I am graphic design, so here's part of it:

• Directing Little Women at Third Wall Productions (directing debut and role debut as Marmee)
• In addition to doing a reprise of LoveSICK with Dyana Neal, Steven Lampredi and Jim Knost, I returned as a solo cabaret artist in two places doing The Not Here Cabaret with Michael Tan at Spotlighters Theatre and at Germano's.
• Performing in new venues:
• St. Leo's in Little Italy (Cantor)
• Friends' School (CAB)
• Third Wall Productions (See above)
• Germano's (See above)
• Shetler Studios in NYC (Hitchy-Koo 2017)
• The Belvedere (HOB Prohibition Gala - although no one heard us, because it was really loud, but that's okay)
• The lobby at the Lyric (with Lyric Holiday Carolers, a new group that I formed which may reappear next year)
• I'm working with a composer, Garth Baxter, who has agreed to set several Irish poems to music! This is a project that was supposed to happen in Milwaukee, but that composer didn't seem all that interested. (Basically, a reflection of how I was regarded in Milwaukee...)
• After a hiatus of 21 years, I received a contract for Don Carlo with Washington National Opera - my costume fitting was a couple of days ago.
• I joined the board of House of Bankerd!
• I did my first podcast for HOB's State of the Arts podcast.
• Joined the faculty at Notre Dame University of Maryland (down the street from my house!)
• I was cast in a reading of a new musical that will be performed next weekend, Do It Now! The Mayor Schaefer Musical, and got to know a whole bunch of new people and reconnected with some I sang with YEARS ago.
• I returned to blogging and was quite active this summer, but fell out of it when school started up in the fall.
• I started meditating and was doing it daily all summer, but fell out of it when school started up in the fall.
• I expanded my gym membership to take advantage of more Zumba classes, and was doing it 3-4x/week, as well as other classes, until I had an injury on Labor Day and had to put it on hiatus (are we noticing a pattern here?) for awhile. 
• We hosted 3 parties at our house, the cast party for Little Women, Thanksgiving dinner, and a Boxing/Bill Day Party, all of which were successful. (You know it's a good party when there's very little food left over.)
• A housekeeper! Well, actually two, since I fired the first one.
• My husband returned to the jazz stage (is it really a stage?) with the reunion of his old band (and I mean OLD - they hadn't performed together for 30 years), First Impressions. (The name of that band sounds like they should all be wearing powder blue tuxedos.) I'm hoping that he'll be doing more of this and that maybe, just maybe, he and I and maybe David Bell could do some cool 1930s cabaret show.... :D
• I quit Oldfields School.
• I continue to be an alto section leader and cantor at Cathedral of Mary Our Queen and in the professional choir at Temple Oheb Shalom. 
• I'm still in Concert Artists of Baltimore, with whom I did 4 concerts this year: St. Matthew Passion (4/1), Gershwin (10/8), Messiah (12/8-9), and Catholic Charities (12/14). 
• I auditioned for a straight play and thought I did a really good job. Wasn't cast, but I enjoyed the process.
• Saw a couple of shows - but not nearly as many as I should've. High point - Ragtime at Ford's Theatre in DC. Also Audra MacDonald at the Strathmore.
• We went to the Maryland Renaissance Festival five times. 
• I got together with friends in Milwaukee at the Journeyman Hotel's rooftop bar when I was there. Not as many as I would've liked. A lot of people simply didn't bother to respond to my invite....
• We remodeled our backyard so that we have a great place to throw more parties!! Next year: Renaissance Party 2018!!

The year didn't have too many downsides, personally. Donald Trump is still president, and I have hated him for 30 years just because of who he is. His presidency and "policies" are just icing on the cake. 

My husband had a close call, work-wise. It seems to have resolved itself, but it came at a very rough time and we did not know what the future was going to be. As it stands now, he wound up, through his own perseverance, with a promotion and more (and welcome) responsibilities.

The hardest thing, of course, was the diagnosis of my beloved Pippin with cancer, resulting in the amputation of his left hind leg. We don't know what his outcome will be. He's doing really, really well and we're meeting with the oncologist in a week to explore chemo and other treatment possibilities. 

Tomorrow I want to explore the things that will (or might) happen in 2018. Overall, I'm pretty pleased with how this year went for my family and for me, professionally and personally.

Happy New Year!

"A creative adult is the child who survived."

Two blogs in one day!

Last night I did a cabaret show at Germano's Piattini in Little Italy - "The Not Here Cabaret" with Michael Tan. This was a reprise of a show we did at Spotlighters in June. It went, very, very well. I felt so at home in the format, with the audience, and with the music I'd selected.

This morning I saw this posted on Facebook:

89-Year-Old Japanese Grandma Discovers Photography, Can’t Stop Taking Hilarious Self-Portraits Now - Japan Inside

One of the comments I read (and I know, you're not supposed to read the comments) was: "A creative adult is the child who survived."

That's how I feel about doing cabaret. Creative. Fulfilled. Happy.

Oh, and I made a tidy little sum doing it last night, which was even better. #MakingMoneyAsASingerFTW (do hashtags work in blogs)?

Why a Bachelor's Degree?

A former student asked me to write a letter for a friend who was being threatened with deportation (!!) while doing a degree program in music. This person wants to be a voice teacher, and apparently TIIC don't understand why that career choice requires any kind of formal training. (Slowly I turn...) So I wrote this today:

To whom it may concern:
I was asked to write this letter to explain why teaching voice is something that would require a Bachelor’s Degree in Music. I cannot imagine how anyone would think it would not require extensive training at the collegiate level and beyond. Teaching voice is not just sitting at the piano and playing happy little ditties or simple scales. It involves an understanding of many facets of music and other disciplines. I would like to outline these requirements as I see them, as a graduate of the Peabody Institute of Johns Hopkins University, as a private and college voice teacher/sole proprietor with nearly 20 years’ experience, and as a member of the National Association of Teachers of Singing (NATS).

• The voice teacher needs to understand the physiology of the voice - the laryngeal muscles, the muscles of breath management, and the musculoskeletal structure that allows a singer to develop his/her instrument to full effect. This study is offered in vocal pedagogy courses in both undergraduate and graduate programs.

• The voice teacher needs to understand music theory in order to convey to the student that the vocal line is only a part of the whole fabric of the piece. Knowing theory allows the teacher to show the student how each note, each phrase, each line fits into the entire piece. This study is offered in every year of the bachelor’s program.

• The voice teacher needs to understand history - both music history and world history - in order to teach the student how to interpret a piece of music in a way that is historically informed and appropriate. The style of a piece from the 17th century is radically different from that of the 19th century. And many times, styles recur in later periods (i.e., everything old is new again). A good teacher will be able to point this out to a student and help guide that student to an understanding that is deeper than just singing a song for the song’s sake. Again, music history is offered throughout a 4-year undergraduate program, as well as the gen ed courses in history available in most colleges.

• And finally, the voice teacher cannot exist in a vacuum. Music programs at both the undergraduate and graduate levels allow (and usually require) people to work together in various ensembles, on stage, in concert, in chamber works, and in large choral groups. These experiences are invaluable in teaching the voice teacher about teamwork, in providing networking opportunities that go well beyond their college years, and giving them a foundation to draw upon when working with students.

Based on my experience, all of these skills require, at a minimum, a bachelor’s degree in music. Should you have any further questions, please feel free to email me at mezzoid@gmail.com or call the number below.

Sincerely yours,

Christine Thomas-O’Meally, M.M.

Mind the Gap

This morning's meditation again asked me to draw attention to the momentary gap between inhalation and exhalation (and vice versa). Although I reject the concept of suspension when it comes to teaching breath management, as I have discussed before, I do understand the value of taking a moment to reflect.

In England, there is an announcement at the underground (subway) for travelers to "mind the gap." This pertains to the space between the edge of the platform and the train.

In the phrase shown above, the late composer Truman Fisher says that "the pause is as important as the note." This goes along with the concept that I teach - the high note is only as good as the note before it. You have to be grounded on that note in order for the one after it to be successful - and if there is no note, you have to be grounded in the rest. A musical rest can be significant for expression's sake (much can be said when nothing is said), for grammatical purposes, or for preparation.

Sometimes I am so busy, particularly at the end of the semester (which always seems to involve academic, musical and personal commitments), that I don't take any time to breathe. I'm hoping that my newfound commitment to daily meditation will help me identify when I can find those moments, no matter how insignificant an amount of time they may be, and use them accordingly to find the time to reflect, to refresh, and to re-engage.

This semester, I'm going to try to

Home should be where the heart is

I am sitting on my bed in the Journeyman Hotel (a Kimpton Hotel) in The Third Ward of Milwaukee. Bill is on his computer and Pippin is between us. It's pretty much like any other morning except that we are in Milwaukee. Again.

We're here for Milwaukee Irish Fest, the world's largest Irish Music Festival. We are staying at a brand new hotel that is blocks from the festival grounds, so that we can walk to and from, take Pippin for walks as needed, eat non-festival food at one of the many decent restaurants in the area, and not have to worry about logistics. The hotel is a little pricey, but it's dog-friendly, so I didn't have to worry about boarding Pippin or getting a housesitter, so it balances out.

Last night we sat in the rooftop bar and had drinks with anyone who wanted to come by. I had created an event and invited people. There were about 10 people there, one former neighbor, one fellow teacher, one fellow singer and 4 people from HS. No other musical colleagues. No students. 

I think this is my last trip to Milwaukee. I don't feel anything when I come here. There are so many places I haven't seen - the Pacific Northwest, New England, South Carolina - and I'd like to go back to Ireland. I think it's time to cut all my ties with this city.  

I have a lesson scheduled with Connie today, and I'm singing at the Unity Church on Sunday. I'm supposed to have another lesson with her on Saturday and rehearse with the band on Saturday afternoon. Not sure if I will do the Saturday lesson. I don't think I'm going to do any more singing in this city after this point. 

It's time. I may have been born here, but this is not, and has never been, home. 

Home should be where the heart is.

Never were words so true.

My heart's far - far away.

Home is too.

Here's an interesting article a fellow expat wrote upon his exit from MKE. 

Attend the Tale of Lea DeLaria

I had the great fortune of going to see Lea DeLaria at Blues Alley in DC last night.

[quick aside - why on earth are women with beautiful Italian names pronouncing them so Americanized? Lea DeL/ae/ria --- Laura Ben/ae/nti? Seriously, folks, people would be able to wrap their mouths around the taller /a/ vowel without any problem; pronounce your names the way they're intended]

I have seen Lea DeLaria on TV since the 1990s, when she started doing stand-up as the first openly lesbian comic on late night and cable TV programs. And then I saw that she was doing Broadway, doing roles like Hildy in On the Town (with Jesse Tyler Ferguson as her love interest) and Eddie/Dr. Scott in Rocky Horror Picture Show. 

But my fascination with Lea DeLaria came when she played the psychic Madame Delphina on One Life to Live. OLTL was a bizarre soap - it used a lot of New York actors (who were often doing double duty in roles on Broadway) and was much more socially conscious than your average soap. Yes, there were people returning from the dead, evil twins, multiple personalities, etc., but there were also storylines about equal marriage and antiwar sentiments. It was quirky. And then she played a drag role, Professor Del Fina (you see what they did there?). As Delphina, she would hear voices and randomly turn around and converse with them, usually in a somewhat irritated fashion.

Of course, since then I've seen her in things like Orange is the New Black, where she plays Boo.

It was an amazing show. She's raunchy. Very raunchy. But her voice is capable of so much inflection. She can purr, she can growl, she can yell, she can croon.

I thought of Barbara Cook last night, even though vocally they could not be more different. Lea's carrying on the tradition. She's still telling the story, she's true to the text, she's authentic. There are still people out there who can tell the tales.

Suspending the breath - why I don't teach it

This morning, the subject of my meditation app involved a lot of focus on the suspension/stillness between inhalation and exhalation. The momentary pause that exists both before the initiation of each. It's infinitesimal and you really have to be aware to notice it even exists.

I don't really feel it and I don't find it all that valuable. When I first started studying voice, I was giving vocalises that encouraged finding that suspension. Exercises that consisted of:

Inhale - 2 - 3 - 4
Suspend 2 - 3 - 4
Exhale 2 - 3 - 4

The exercise gradually increased the numbers, cautioning the singer to be aware of maintaining an open glottis rather than shutting down or being rigid during the suspension. I dutifully did this exercise, and then I taught it, when I first started teaching voice. Because that's what you did. It was a basic vocal exercise that was included in all the pedagogy books.

But I feel as though breath is a continuous process and that to focus on what is a nearly imperceptible stopping of time creates unnecessary tension. In fact, I think that the act of extending the suspension beyond that split second reinforces the idea of "setting the breath," as opposed to just moving through it.

I have written in the past that my approach to the breath is that of:

Release - Receive

Release - Resist

Rather than suspend time, I prefer to think of releasing it and welcoming the next moment. 

(The point of the meditation was to be aware of stillness and use it in your life to avoid unnecessary conflict. In that case, it's a useful concept. But I'm writing a singing blog here....)

When I'm singing, I don't want to suspend animation, to enter into some kind of momentary vocal hibernation, but to continue to be animated, which is defined as being "full of life." 

So I'll suspend disbelief (or judgment), I'll keep people in suspense, I'll do TRW suspension work at the gym, and I'll milk a good harmonic suspension for all it's worth. But when it comes to singing, I'm just going to keep the air flowing. 

Thank you, Barbara Cook

[To Terry Gross on FRESH AIR]"When I'm standing in the wings, waiting to go on, I kind of plant my feet and feel a kind of strength coming up from the ground into me. And then I think about giving back this gift that I have been given. And when I do that, then I get out of ego so much. And then I don't worry so much about what people think about how I sing or how I look. And I just try to sing more deeply and more personally. And I really enjoy that. I love singing. I do. I get rid of so much stuff by singing. It's a wonderful thing to be able to do." 

Barbara Cook, 1927-2017

And here's a recording of her at nearly 80 (picture below to the contrary). The voice stayed fresh (one may quibble about certain closed vowels sounding reedy, but my contention is that those vowels sounded reedy back in the 1950s and that's a whole 'nother thing).

She never learned to read music (to which I always say, "and why not?"), which makes her learning the role of Cunegonde in Candide even more mind-boggling. Her career stalled due to alcoholism and obesity, but she reinvented herself and gave back as both a performer and a clinician. 

I've always said I want to be Barbara Cook when I grow up. Maybe I still have a shot.

Milton Peckarsky, 1920-2017

I'm not sure exactly when I met Milton Peckarsky. It was probably around 1997, a year or so after I arrived in Milwaukee. I think I had sung on a MacDowell Club Concert, and he approached me to ask if I would be interested in exploring some contemporary music.

I had done a little contemporary music up to that point - I'd been in the world premiere of The Dream of Valentino at Washington Opera (before they added the word "National" to their name) and I had done the Elizabeth Vercoe "Jehanne de Lorraine" at a concert at Marquette University, but I didn't really consider myself a contemporary musician. That stuff was hard.

Well, that all changed, and for the next 10 years or so, I was pretty much known as a contemporary musician because of Milton. He introduced me to composers such as Yehuda Yannay, Josh Schmidt, Sigmund Snopek III, David Bohn, Keith Carpenter, and Cornel Taranu. Because of him, I received amazing reviews for a piece that Yehuda wrote (not for me, but which I performed) as well as for pieces by Alban Berg. These were performed on a concert called Variety 2000: Expressionism and Surrealism - The Soul Turned Inside Out. THREE HOURS of music, film and theater (including pornographic puppet theater) celebrating what could be described as pre-emo navel contemplating (it was a real toe-tapper, as you can imagine). There were 6 performances of it and every single performance was sold out. These were on the Music Of Our Time series, which he had founded.

He also commissioned Schmidt, Snopek, Bohn and Carpenter to write pieces for the two of us to do together at a MacDowell Club recital at his home.

Milton also arranged for me to sing the Tzara Songs by Cornel Taranu, which were then recorded for a collection of Romanian music. The songs were based on the poetry of Dadaist poet Tristan Tzara and were not easy, either musically or interpretatively (cheminée, cheminée, les rois des poissons passé: Chimneys, chimneys, the kings of past fish). Listening to them as I write this - I am really proud of these pieces and would like to sing them again.... maybe with slightly better French....

He and his wife Vivian (who I just found out passed away 3 years ago) were also like second parents to me. They came to my wedding (and in fact, my mother-in-law apparently thought Vivian was my mother and embraced her warmly, much to the consternation of my own mother).

The pictures above accompanied a press release for an October 2000 concert called "Journeys," which Milton and I did at Carroll College (now Carroll University), and included songs by Hugo Hartig, Arnold Schoenberg, Ned Rorem, Charles Ives, and Maurice Ravel, as well as my debut as a narrator in Theodor Ullman's The Love and Death of Cornet Christoph Rilke. This piece was particularly meaningful to Milton as a Jew - it was the final piece that Ullman wrote while a prisoner at the arts camp, Theresienstadt, prior to being moved to Auschwitz. As an actor, it was particularly meaningful to me, because the actor for whom it was intended had been executed on the day of its scheduled performance.

I hope I gave something back to Milton as well - one thing I did for him was to arrange for Mayor Tom Barrett to declare September 14, 2012 as Milton Peckarsky Day. Milton had just been diagnosed with Alzheimer's at that time, and the MacDowell Club wanted to honor him while he was still cognizant of the honor. Rest in peace, dearest Milton, dearest Vivian. I will never forget you.

Milton & Vivian Peckarsky

Annuals or perennials? Blooming where you're planted

Competitions are a big deal in the music business, from childhood talent shows, to state school solo-ensemble festivals, to the Metropolitan Opera National Council auditions, and to the big time, The Voice or America's Got Talent.

I've often said that I hated doing competitions, but that's a lie. I didn't feel comfortable in them because of the whole being judged/comparison thing. But at the same time, there was something always a bit thrilling and challenging about preparing for one. And I find the idea of just blooming for the sake of blooming to be somewhat disingenuous. And flowers don't think. So there's that.

When I go to Zumba, sometimes I assign some unwitting dancer in class the role of my personal trainer. I decide that my goal is to keep up with that person (at least as well as I can given my multiple knee issues - I'm realistic, if nothing else). I don't want to BEAT her at Zumba - I just want to keep up and not lose ground. I don't want just to keep moving, I actually want to do the dance as it's intended. If I didn't, I'd just run or do an exercise bike. It's about more than that to me.

I think it's important to be aware of what other singers around you are doing. Are they doing things better? If so, why? Are they practicing more? Are they more mindful of their practicing efforts? Are they picking music that suits them perfectly? Are they marketing themselves more effectively and putting themselves in the right place to be heard?

Yes, "bloom where you're planted," as they say. But keep growing. Nourish yourself. If that's not a good spot, move to a better one. Add a little fertilizer now and then (#InsertManureJokeHere). It's not enough just to bloom but to flourish. Because blooms die, eventually. Unless you're a perennial. Then you come back, every year, unless you're ripped out of the ground by the roots. And even then, one little root might remain and you'll come back again and again. Whether anyone likes it or not.

Be a perennial. 

Finding your umami/Balancing your flavors

This morning I saw a Forbes magazine article about why you should "let" your child major in music (the idea of a parent determining what his/her children choose to do with their lives makes me cringe a bit, but I get it). Before the article opened, this quote popped up and caught my eye.

A condiment is defined on Wikipedia as: "a spice, sauce, or preparation that is added to food to impart a particular flavor, to enhance its flavor, or in some cultures, to complement the dish."

Sometimes, in cooking, you add something unexpected to make the dish sweeter. For example, adding salt to a sweet dish can bring out the sweetness of it. Increasing the acidity of a wine doesn't make it more sour, but rather more alive. Adding sugar to a savory dish will balance sourness and saltiness (unfortunately, trendy restaurants often go too far with their additions of sweetness these days).

According to writer Amy Fleming, flavors balance along five different tastes: sweet, salt, bitter, sour and umami (this, by the way, is supposed to be the key to the success of Heinz ketchup). Umami is a relatively recent discovery in culinary science and is described as yummy/savory and is usually associated with cooked/aged protein-laden foods like parmegiano reggiano, rich stocks, and cured meats.

A good chef experiments to find the perfect balance of a dish. It doesn't always mean following a specific and unchanging recipe, but rather knowing your ingredients, what they do and how they work together. America's Test Kitchen, which publishes Cook's Illustrated Magazine, tests different dishes over and over until they find the recipe that works. They publish a bimonthly magazine featuring ten of those recipes, discussing what didn't work as well as what, ultimately, did.

As singers, we tend to think that there is one recipe for all singers that we have to follow. And if we stumble along the way - don't get into that YAP, aren't hired by that opera company, haven't done a major role by the age of 28 - well, we might as well change careers right there and then.

There isn't one way. We have to find that blend of ingredients that work for us. Perhaps we just haven't found that bit of umami that we need to make the whole thing work (remember, it's usually associated with aging). Maybe we need a little of the bitterness of failure in order to find it. Maybe the recipe you need is not the same as that of the other singers you've come up alongside in your life experience.

In both art and singing, we use the term "chiaroscuro" to describe the balance of light/shadow (visual) or brightness/depth (vocal resonance). Too much of one or the other and you have an unbalanced outcome, just like if your culinary dish is too sweet or too bitter.

Maybe your career path (and I'm using the term "your" to include "my" as well) isn't the traditional one. Perhaps chiaroscuro goes beyond being merely a term about resonance. Maybe it can be applied to the entire vocal art form as well. Maybe you/I need a balance of opera, musical theater, teaching, directing, church singing, and cabaret in order to find that balance of flavors that makes you/me whole.

American mezzo-soprano Joan Morris has had a terrific career that has involved diverse paths. Let's see what her recipe has been.... and then see if you can find your own.

Watch your language!

I have been doing morning meditations using an app called The Daily Calm. At the end of each meditation, a graphic comes up summarizing the most important point of the day's "lesson." Today it was language.

Shortly after I finished my meditation, I went to peruse Facebook (big surprise, I know), and came across a link to an article about the enduring pain of childhood verbal abuse. I thought this was an amazing bit of serendipity and probably what I should talk about today.

I grew up in a household where praise was not easily thrown around. (Okay, it was never thrown around.) If I misbehaved, I was told that there was clearly something wrong with me - perhaps it was that fever I'd had when I was a child, perhaps I was just intrinsically bad. I was generally a well-behaved child, and any bad behavior was normal for a kid of my age, whether that age was 4 or 14. (And really, how bad could a 4 year old be that would warrant someone calling the recorded weather and saying, "Hello, police? I have a bad little girl here. Can you come and get her?" in a voice loud enough for the terrified 4-year-old to hear, resulting in said child groveling in tears at your feet???) This kind of approach led me into a cycle of shame that took me a very long time to get over. I worried that perhaps there was something wrong with me. That I was fooling everyone with my so-called "talent" and that I was a fraud.

Despite that upbringing, I grew up to make choices that my mother didn't like - I went to college and graduate school for music, a field both parents disapproved of, I moved across country, I left a marriage that made me unhappy, I learned to drive stick shift (so unfeminine!), I dyed my hair auburn, I opened my own voice studio instead of settling for a day job - and I was and am happy. (Surprisingly, my not having children was never an issue.)

And I am very careful with my language with my students. I never want to shame anyone. Words have consequences. I'm honest with my students, but I always try to find the good in their efforts, even when I'm addressing vocal issues that need improvement. Sometimes I've slipped up. And often I'm not so careful with myself. But I'm working on it.

Seize the day (the hour, the minute, the second - just grab it)

I only have 4 weeks left of summer break before school starts. In that time, I have quite a few projects that I want to finish, all of which I've enumerated in previous posts. There's not much time left.

And it makes me think of the passing of time and things I won't ever get the chance to do, after all. Which is a bit disheartening. It was one of the reasons I moved - I wasn't performing in Milwaukee, and I knew that my shelf life as an artist was, at that point, limited. La voce is still holding out, and quite well, thankyouverymuch, but the logistics are that there are others coming up and perhaps it's their turn. I had my turn. Maybe I should have made more of it. Maybe it just was what it had to be at the time.

When I was in my mid-30s, I played the Queen of the Fairies in G&S' Iolanthe. Now I look at that role as one that should be played by someone older. Like, perhaps, oh, I don't know - ME. Again. I played Katisha at that age, too. I can still play those roles. I won't be playing Pitti-Sing again, or Lady Angela, but I can still play Ruth.

I won't be singing Dorabella or Rosina, but there are other supporting/character roles I can still do. Marcellina. Berta. Baba. Mum. Florence. Mother Abbess. Mother Superior. 

Someone spoke disparagingly of me recently to another colleague, saying that I cast myself as Marmee "out of ego." Well, Maureen McGovern was about the same age as I am when she created the role and when she did the national tour, so I wasn't too old for that, but I will be shortly. And besides, I sang the hell out of it and I wanted to do it. And I got great reviews for it. (And so did the person who spoke disparagingly of me, in the role in which I cast her. But that's another story.) I can play Aunt March for another 20 years. There's time for that. 

In the song, "Unchained melody," the lyric goes:

"Time goes by so slowly and time can do so much"

I submit that time goes by so quickly - and we must make much of the time that we have. 

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying

And this same flower that smiles today, Tomorrow will be dying."

Carpe diem, y'all.

Decluttering

I've been doing a lot of thinking about decluttering my life in all aspects.

• I'm trying to organize my garb closet/prop room so that things are easily accessible and no one is screaming on the morning that we're heading to the Maryland Renaissance Festival, "Where is my hat? Where are my leggings? Why can I never find anything?" (Needless to say, this is not me, because I would've been looking for them the night before, not the morning of.) But I also want them to look good and I want to look at my things and see different options, not just "Oh well, I don't know where this is, so therefore I'll wear this instead."
  
• I've given away a bunch of jewelry and clothing that no longer suited me and I'm trying to determine what my style is. I don't want anything that's too fussy (at least not for every day - fussy is fine for special occasions). Right now I'm looking at streamlined and simple. Kind of a uniform.
  
• And as far as my teaching is going, I've decided not to teach classes, at least this year. I just don't want to have to grade papers, take attendance, and worry about classroom management. I only want to teach voice and do my own singing. And I really want to teach voice primarily at home, which is why I left Oldfields (keeping my HCC job, though).
  
• Speaking of singing, I'm thinking of cutting back on some of the singing that doesn't bring me joy. Kind of like the Marie Kondo's Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up book. I enjoy my church job, Concert Artists, temple job, and hopefully I'll enjoy returning to WNO this year, but I'm not sure I really want to do run-outs of gigs that aren't that rewarding to me.
  
• I want to pursue more teaching things like workshops, and take advantage of attending more workshops as well. 

It's nice to be able to pick and choose things, and I am aware that right now I am very lucky to be in "feast" mode, especially after the 10 years of "famine" I struggled with while in Milwaukee. 

Taking criticism

Some of the negative criticism I've had, professionally:

1. "My dear, you are not a mezzo. You do not have the low notes to be a mezzo and if you don't by your age, you never will." (Judge at a competition - I was 30 and had just started working with my teacher a year before; the low notes came in a few months later.)
2. "Christine Thomas, while adequate, paled in comparison with last year's alto, the splendid Theodora Hanslowe." (Washington Post review - Teddy Hanslowe was an awesome mezzo, but considering I had walked up my skirt and fell on my face before "He shall feed his flock," I'll take adequate. But still. Crappy thing to say.)
3. "Do you really think you're suited to American song?" (Blanche Thebom, judge at the American Traditions Competition. My response, "Yes, I do. I'm an American and I love the music and I sing it well." And now she's dead and I'm not, so there.)

Some of the positive criticism I've had:

1. "Christine Thomas sang the role of the Cat in a way that made you want to hear her Carmen." (Joe McLellan, Washington Post, regarding my performance in Starbird. Never did sing Carmen, but I held that close to my heart for years. First review.)
2. "The role of Smeton is one in which to spot future stars. Christine Thomas fits the bill." (Octavio Roca, Washington Times, regarding Anna Bolena. Really should've pursued an agent after that.)
3. “Thomas' voice, an amazing instrument" (James Auer, Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, regarding my performance of Yehuda Yanny's "Incantations.")
4. "The wildly randy Wanda Kazlakowski" (Elaine Schmidt, Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, regarding A Cudahy Carolers Christmas.) 
5. "The girls’ mother, Marmee, was played with quiet dignity and wisdom by Christine Thomas, who also directed the play. Thomas has an amazing voice, and small wonder as she’s performed extensively as an opera singer. Listening to her solos was one of the richest treats of the show." (Liz Ruth-Brinegar, MD Theatre Guide, Little Women)
6. "As Marmee March, she is a vocal powerhouse. She has a strong, clean vocal style and commands the stage with every note in her solos “Here Alone” and “Days of Plenty.” Her portrayal as the matriarch of four daughters is admirable and she seems quite comfortable in the role." (Jason Crawford Samios-Uy, Backstage Baltimore)
7. "Thomas has a striking voice that is perfectly suited for her solo numbers. Filling both “Days of Plenty” and “Here Alone” with mournful sorrow and deep nostalgia, Thomas emotionally connects to the songs on a deep and earnest level, creating a much revered Marmee." (Mandy Gunther, Theater Bloom)*

*Mandy also found me somewhat aloof and frigid in the role, initially, but I blame that on the fact that I was also directing the show and there was something going on with the Christmas tree and the projections right before I went on, so I was distracted. But I clearly got over it by the time I had to sing. 

So I take the good and I throw out the bad. Or, rather I decide if the bad had any merit, and if it didn't, move on.

As Sondheim said in Sunday in the Park with George (the video of which I posted a few weeks ago), you have to move on....

Stop worrying where you're going

Move on

If you can know where you're going

You've gone

Just keep moving on

I chose, and my world was shaken

So what?

The choice may have been mistaken

The choosing was not

You have to move on...

My Favorite "Sings"

I wrote this nearly 17 years ago (!!!) when I was in the infancy of my teaching career, and it still pretty much describes my approach to vocal technique. I may have published this before but I can't find it, and it showed up in my FB memories this morning, so here goes:

My Favorite Sings
To the tune of (oh, you know!)

Lip trills and buzzes and breath exercises -
Whimper like a puppy to find where your sighs* is -
Expand your bottom ribs as though they were wings,
These are a few of my favorite sings!

Sing thru the "stick shift" to free the passaggio**,
Blow on your finger to feel the appoggio,
Locate your resonance with lots of "ming-mings",
These are a few of my favorite sings!

Don't lift your chin up, it pulls on your larynx!
A noisy breath means you're tightening your pharynx!
Relax your shoulders and all other things,
Get ready to work on your favorite sings!

Don't gasp or wheeze!
An incipient sneeze
Will give space to you
And don't forget if you look
weird when you sing,
You'll probably sound weird too!

*sighs - balanced onset exercise
**a chromatic exercise for registration

Found a composer!

I am thrilled to announce that Garth Baxter has agreed to accept a commission to compose three Irish songs. Garth and I have been Facebook friends for awhile now, and he has written some pieces for a good friend of mine, soprano Annie Gill, and so I thought I'd check out some of his work on YouTube.

The first song that came up was a choral setting of "Wild Mountain Thyme," which I posted the other day as the song that has meant a lot to my husband and me at our regular pilgrimages to Milwaukee Irish Fest. I thought that this was a sign, so I contacted Garth immediately.

I'm in the process of getting the poems pronounced for me and I've ordered an Irish-English dictionary from Amazon to help me do a word for word translation.

This is very exciting. I don't know when we'll get started, let alone finished, but I think this will be a fantastic collaboration!!

Now to decide whether the recital they'll be on will be the originally intended "outside the box" theme or if I'll just go with a Celtic theme and reprise some of the things that I did with MacDowell Club a few years ago....

More info to follow!

Cringeworthy wedding/funeral music

These are all songs I have sung (or heard) at weddings that made me cringe:

• Beauty & the Beast (The Musical): Unless both the bride and groom are beautiful. Otherwise people will smirk.
• You and Me Against the World (Helen Reddy): Seriously, what does this say about your guests? Plus there's a line about "Remember when we went to the circus and you were scared of the clowns." Really? 
• O mio babbino caro (from the opera Gianni Schicchi): The text literally means "O dear daddy, let me marry my boyfriend or I will go to the highest point and jump into the Arno River. Oh god, I wish I were dead." NO.
• The Wedding Song: If you have a guitarist, maybe. On organ, it's death. And really, it's only one note. Over and over and over. I have a friend who charges an extra $100 to sing that song. I just try to talk people out of it.
• Unforgettable (Nat King Cole): No religious reference whatsoever. Lounge lizard material. Save it for the reception.
• The Prayer (Bocelli/Dion): It's not a solo. If you have a tenor and mezzo, okay. But as a soloist, it doesn't work. It's awkward. (Honestly, even as a duet, I feel like it's the tenor sings in Italian and then the mezzo translates.... it's weird.)
• Endless Love (Lionel Ritchie): The song is about teen sex. Again, if it's a duet, you might be able to make it work. But really, ew.
• Power of Love (Celine Dion): Yes, I sang this as the recessional at a Catholic wedding. I couldn't believe they allowed it. The priest even structured his homily around it. The chorus was "'Cause I am your lady - And you are my man - Whenever you reach for me - I'll do all that I can." NO. This is church. We're not singing about SEX. Not that there's anything wrong with sex. It's just not appropriate in a church service.

Basically, if you are getting married in a church, your music needs to reference God and/or Jesus somehow. Otherwise, do a civil service. I did a wedding years ago where not a single reading or song talked about God. Then why get married in a church? Have a civil service and then have whatever music you want at the reception.

Not that I'm opinionated or anything.

I'm more liberal on funerals. If a song meant something to the deceased, great. I've sung "Look for the silver lining," "Somewhere my love," and "Every day of my life," all songs that meant something to the deceased or the deceased's immediate family. The worst funeral I ever sang was for a 95 year old man at which I had to sing a contemporary Christian song that (A) did not fit my voice (B) I'm sure he'd never heard, and (C) former Wisconsin governor Tommy Thompson was the eulogist. I felt like that funeral wasn't authentic. If the deceased could've, he would've sat up in his coffin and said, "What the hell is that cheesy piece of music? I wanted Amazing Grace!"

Your wedding should reflect your beliefs, your hopes and your dreams. Not just pretty songs that you like. They should mean something. Your funeral should reflect things that were important in your life.

At my funeral (not the church service, but the memorial service/wake), I want this video to be played. If it's not, I will haunt you all. (Plus I met Tommy Tune in the elevator at the Kennedy Center back in the 90s, so there's a sentimental value besides the words meaning everything to me.)

"Just got hit by a semi. Shit."

Every morning, I review the "On this day" feature on Facebook to see what I was thinking about and doing on this very day every since 2007. In 2013, I posted:

Christine Thomas-O'Meally

July 25, 2013 · Spring Grove, IN · 

Just got hit by a semi. Shit.

I was driving back to Milwaukee to close out our Wauwatosa house. I was driving alone - Bill was working and really didn't want to go back the house (he was having a very hard time with leaving it in the first place). It was a long drive, but I was making great time, and in the couple of minutes before it happened, I was just thinking, "I really like long-distance driving. I find it very Zen. Huh. Why is that semi moving into the left lane? I was going to pass him. Oh well, I'll just hang back here till he moves back and then I'll pass him."

Well, he didn't move back (and then I hit a pothole and figured that was why he had moved, because he knew it was there) and I waited. He didn't show any signs he was going to move so I sped up a bit and then... he decided to move back. 

I don't remember if I honked or screamed, but he saw me at the last possible second before he would've crushed me. His wheel had hooked into my wheel well at that point and he'd torn off its cover. The impact threw me off the road, and I nearly lost control of the car, but I was able to stop on the shoulder just short of the guardrail on the bridge - in the middle of an on-ramp.

Typing it terrifies me all over again.

The damage was strictly cosmetic (although I had a lot of car repairs over the next three years before I traded it in, and I can't help but think that, somehow, the car was compromised by the impact). 

When I pulled over to the shoulder on the other side of the ramp, the driver of the semi stopped to see if I was okay. I looked at him and said, "You. Hit. Me." It was the only thing I could think of to say. Someone told me once that that was such a mezzo thing to do. All I knew was that I was angry and now I was going to be late getting back to Milwaukee. I really didn't think I'd be able to drive the car the rest of the way - but I could. And got it checked out and estimated the next morning, and after closing out the house, drove it back the following week. 

While sitting there, after I called the police to report the accident and my husband, I posted the above status to FB. And then didn't post anything for 10 minutes, because I was on the phone with my insurance company to arrange the estimate. I scared the hell out of people for a bit. Didn't mean to - but I sure was gratified by the outpouring of caring that my friends displayed in those ten minutes and the days that followed.

I am very lucky to be alive. I'm lucky that Mini Coopers are tiny little tanks. I'm lucky that the driver saw me in time to avoid crushing me. I'm lucky that his employer paid for all of my repairs. I'm lucky I'm a better driver than I thought I was and was able to get control of the car. 

Since this is supposed to be a singing blog, here's Natalie Weiss interpreting the words of John Bucchino, which express what I'm feeling now, 4 years later: Grateful.

You like me! You authentically like me!

When Sally Field accepted the Academy Award for Best Actress for the movie Places in the Heart, she made a speech that has been misquoted as "You like me! You really like me!" Her actual speech was “I haven’t had an orthodox career, and I’ve wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time [she won the award, for Norma Rae] I didn’t feel it, but this time I feel it — and I can’t deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me.”

As a performer, needing to be liked often comes off as needy, as if you aren't performing to tell the truth and to be authentic, but out of a desire to be popular. If you audition with that mindset or with the mindset of "I really need this job," it's often seen as desperate and inauthentic.

When I was living in Milwaukee, I didn't feel as though I was liked. And it wasn't just the last time I was living there. It was growing up there as well. I haven't had that feeling living on the East Coast. And I think I know why. I think I was raised with the idea that other people's opinions of me were paramount and that I needed to make myself likeable. And I never felt that I knew how to do that.

The last few auditions I did in Milwaukee played against that idea - I went in with a self-protective and closed-off mindset of "I don't care if you like me. I don't care if you hire me. You probably aren't going to anyway. I'm just going to sing these songs. Bite me if you don't like me." (That last part might be a bit extreme.) And it backfired. I came off as uninvested in my music. I didn't enjoy the audition and I didn't get hired. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Yesterday I read a blogpost by Noe Kagayama, who writes the blog The Bulletproof Musician (to which I subscribe). This article was about assuming that people like you from the get-go. Not that you have to make them like you, but that they already do.

Basically, it talked about everything that I've done wrong in my life - that research has shown that self-protective behaviors like impersonality or hiding your true feelings negatively impact people's perception of you. It might seem like this study was conducted by Captain Obvious himself, but to those of us who were raised with the idea that people wouldn't like us if we were too silly, too honest, too real, it's eye-opening.

(Interestingly enough, I never felt that way in my Milwaukee studio - only in performing circles and in my life. I think I already assumed my students would like me. Huh.)

Kagayama closes his article with the conclusion that entering a new situation (whether it be teaching or performing) with the idea that the students/audience/colleagues already like us is paramount to creating an environment that is authentic, focused, and conducive to creating music.

"Otherwise, we risk going into a situation determined to prove ourselves, and come across as defensive, stubborn, and snobbish. Or in an effort to avoid showing our cards and letting on how excited we are, end up seeming withdrawn, cold, aloof, and standoffish. And ironically, end up getting exactly the result that we were afraid of in the first place." [Emphasis mine]

I'm tired of that result - and I've only had it once since I've been back here, and it involved a situation where I was upset and afraid to make my feelings known. And it won't happen again. 

How Irish Music Changed (and might still be changing) My Life

When I think of Irish music, I think of calling in to the help desk for my then-new IBM PC and getting an Irish customer service rep:

Me: "Oh, you're from Dublin! I love Irish music."
CSR: "Around here, we just call it music."

In 1995, my then-boyfriend/now-husband and I went to Milwaukee to visit my parents. Our visit coincided with Milwaukee Irish Fest 1995. I had been to IrishFest before with my ex-husband, probably in the first year or so of its existence, and we just didn't have a good time. Then again, we rarely had a good time together. He was the only man I knew who could sit through a rock concert stone-faced and then claim that he was having a great time.

Bill, on the other hand, took to it right away. He loved everything about it; the music, the dancing, the cultural exhibits. And when we got back to Baltimore, and he started researching cities with family medicine residencies, Milwaukee suddenly became a place he wanted to go. And that's where we wound up. And we went to Irish Fest every year for the next 17 years, till we moved. And we've been back twice since then and will be going back next month. We've also been to Ireland and want to go back.

There's not a drop of Irish blood in me. I'm Slovenian and Estonian, but my parents never really introduced me to their cultures as far as music was concerned. And my ex was 100% German, and I was briefly in a German polka-rock wedding band (another story for another time), and I speak a bit of German, but I always hated German food and the music didn't move me. (Lieder is another story.)

I coordinated two Irish themed concerts for the MacDowell Club in Milwaukee, and I was particularly proud of the second one. I did a lot of research on Irish classical composers, and coordinated pieces for clarinet, piano, piano trio, organ, and voice. Finding contemporary classical vocal pieces was particularly difficult - I could find pieces with texts by Irish composers, but not a lot of pieces by Irish composers, and nothing with Irish Gaelic texts.

About 7 years ago, I found three poems that I particularly liked by Irish poets that were written in Irish Gaelic (with translations provided by the poets). I wrote to the poets and asked for their permission to have the pieces set to music. And then I just sat on it for the last 7 years. I did contact the Irish Fest Center and Irish Cultural & Heritage Center in Milwaukee to see if someone could help me with pronunciation, but no one returned my messages.

A few weeks ago, I put the word out on the listserv Nextdoor that I was looking for help with pronunciation and got multiple offers. Today someone got back to me with the pronunciation for the first piece. Wow. I can see that my next project will be to figure out the IPA for this - I never could've done this on my own.

The other thing I need to do is to find a composer who will be willing to set this to music. I thought I had someone in Milwaukee lined up, but she hasn't returned my messages. (Do we see a pattern here? Perhaps the pattern that resulted in my moving in the first place?) Ideally, I'd like someone of Irish descent, but that's not a dealbreaker.

My goal is to have these pieces ready to perform in the 2018-2019 season, as part of the Out of The Box concert that I wrote about a week ago. And maybe, just maybe, the Irish Fest Center might be interested in sponsoring a performance of them....

Not holding my breath about that.

This is the song that closes Irish Fest every year, and why we stay till the last note is sung on the last day (which is called "The Scattering"). It ends the jam session of all the musicians on the grounds. This recording is by the late Tommy Makem, who I saw perform many times before his death in 2007. It's a very special song to me. 

From Luciano Pavarotti

Because when it comes to 

Food & Music,

Attention must be paid!

How Making Cocktails is like Practicing

When I first met my husband, I wasn't much of a drinker. In fact, he was horrified on our first date to find that my beer tastes ran to Miller Lite and my wine tastes ran to White Zinfandel (writing that horrifies me as well). It's amazing we went out on a second date.

Well, all that changed. He was a homebrewer and had worked as a vintner's apprentice, and taught me all about good quality beers and wines, and I expanded my tastes. He was a good teacher. Perhaps too good.

This is not to say I spend nights dancing on bar tops with a lampshade on my head, yelling "Woo!" as I swig from a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. (At least not often.) But I do enjoy my wine, and as I've gotten older, I've noticed it hitting me harder. And it's been harder to lose weight. It's not so much that I eat more when I have a glass or two of wine - it's just the calories in the glass or two of wine are sticking to me much more than they used to.

Many years ago, I started getting Real Simple magazine, and I have vowed to keep getting the magazine until the day I opened an issue and said, "Huh, nothing new here." But every month, I find something new, whether it's a new use for binder clips (you can hold a sponge with them!) or an article a month or so ago on mindful drinking.

As a result, I've gotten into making classic and craft cocktails (although supposedly the craft cocktail movement is dead) and I have noticed several things:

1. It takes longer to make a cocktail than it does to pour a glass of wine.
2. I sip at it over a longer period than either wine or beer.
3. I keep the hard liquor and mixers upstairs, so making a second one would involve my going upstairs (if I'm downstairs watching TV) or back in the house (if I'm sitting on the porch) or downstairs (if I'm upstairs reading). This is not to say that I never have a second one, but it's more unlikely. The wine and beer, on the other hand, are kept in the basement and access is too easy.
4. I feel greater satisfaction, like I created something all by myself. I seek new recipes to try to see what else is out there.
5. Consequently, I have less to drink.
6. I feel more clear-eyed and sleep better.
7. I'm more productive the next day.

So what lessons can I take from this in my vocal practice?

1. I need to have all my materials on hand so that I can access them more easily.
2. When I practice, I need to be cognizant of how everything is working, rather than race through vocalises and pieces without thinking.
3. I need to keep distractions out of the practice room. Phone on airplane mode or out of the room entirely.
4. As a result, my improvements will be faster and I'll try new things.
5. Consequently, I will practice more.
6. I will get even better.
7. I will get even more singing work (which will then keep me from getting other things that I want to do .... see Feast or Famine: Dammit).

I can probably apply these to other kinds of practice, such as strength training or cardio, or yoga practice (assuming I ever do yoga again). But since this is a singing blog, and I strayed pretty far from singing with this topic (note: I can make anything about singing if I try hard enough), I'll just stick to that.

Vocalise Project

Years ago, I was invited to present a vocal technique workshop at the Polish National Catholic Church church musicians conference. (This is not Polish people in the Roman Catholic Church - different denomination.) That was when I organized my vocal exercise sheets around the concept of BRAAP:

B - Breath
R - Resonance
A - Articulation
A - Alignment
P - Phonation

My friend, Carolina Kipnis, said "braap" sounded like an extended belch. I said that's what appealed to me about it. It was memorable. It's why I used the P for Phonation as opposed to "OR" for Onset and Release. Because BRAAOR just sounded awkward. Or kind of like a Wookie.

The exercises I used were culled from things that I frequently use and supplemented with various exercises from books. In the I-don't-know-how-many years since I created them, I have abandoned some of them completely, changed others, and found new ones that I like better. I hand these out to beginning students (at the 2nd lesson, because if I give them to people at their first, they often think they don't need to come back a 2nd time because they have my tools).

So I'm revising and expanding my sheets. I will still follow the BRAAP format, but I also want to add a page (or two) of more advanced vocal concepts - range/registration, agility, legato, etc.

If you took or take lessons with me, and there was an exercise that particularly resonated (see what I did there?) with you, tell me what it was and I will include it.

I hope to have this done by the end of summer, so that I can give it out in the fall. The biggest hurdle I have is that I don't have the software I used back in 200x anymore (let alone the computer I did them on), so I have to do the whole thing from scratch.

I wouldn't mind doing some kind of private videos on YouTube for some of them as well. Or maybe a podcast about vocal exercises. Stay tuned for that.

Feel free to message me about exercises you liked - or comment here!

Zumba is my jam

One of the things on my bucket list was to become licensed as a Zumba instructor. I think I've been doing Zumba for 9 years now, and from 2008-2013, especially the last year or so, I did it 4-5x/week. And was in the best shape of my life.

Last year, I finally had the time and resources to take the licensing course. And oh, I felt out of shape. I had not been taking classes because I couldn't find any that worked with my schedule. I felt like, "What must the rest of the class think of me, tripping around here, that I could actually think I'm good at this?"

It was kind of like the recital I gave in September 2011 at Carroll University, when I had not been singing anything or anywhere for about 6 years (other than vocalises in my basement), and had just resumed regular lessons. I was out of shape. I wasn't singing well, the pieces I picked were kind of random and not really songs that spoke to me, and I was no role model at that point. That was a butt-kicker. That's when I started to work regularly with Connie Haas, and to work on myself, not just everyone else.

I joined a gym here in Baltimore that offered some Zumba classes, but not enough that worked with my schedule. So I just expanded my membership (much as I did with the WAC in Milwaukee) to include other classes, and I have been branching out and going to the other classes. Today I took a class in Zumba Toning, which involves light weights plus Zumba. And it was fun. I've mentioned my licensing, and one of the teachers told me that they were looking for subs. I demurred, saying that I'm still not up to snuff yet, and she said, "It's okay, we'll mentor you." So there's that.

In both cases, I had to expand myself. I wasn't getting enough by doing Zumba videos at home or by going to the gym down the street. I wasn't getting enough as a singer by demonstrating things for students in my basement and fitting in practice when I could.

Back in 2012 (a year after that horrible Carroll recital), I sang on a recital at Cardinal Stritch University, and I sang the Rossini "La Regata Veneziana." Those pieces felt like home to me. During my preparation, a little over 5 years ago now, I posted on Facebook:

"La regata veneziana" kicking my a$$ but in a good way. Like vocal Zumba.

And it was like vocal Zumba. It was hard, it challenged me, but it was stuff I loved, stuff that felt natural (ultimately) and fulfilling. And I need to find more things like that - music that feels like home and that I want to share with others.

That's the way I feel about Zumba, and that's why I want to teach that too.

Singing is my jam. Zumba is my jam.

And now I want some jam.

Feast or Famine. Dammit.

Last night I auditioned for a role that would've fit me like a glove. It was the role of Francesca in Bridges of Madison County, originally sung by Kelli O'Hara on Broadway. A leading role for a legit soprano of a certain age (meaning older than 35). It's being done by Dundalk Community Players at the end of October/beginning of November.

I was invited to audition for it by someone affiliated with the company who came to see me at Spotlighters in my recent cabaret show, The Not Here Cabaret (coming soon to Germano's). My initial reaction was, "Oh, I'm sure I can't make that work with the high holidays/trip to Wisconsin for Ryan's wedding." And then I saw the audition notice and realized that I was free from 10/1 on and the show opened 10/27! Plus I had a bunch of free days around which I could be scheduled. We could make that work, right?

Plus, the day I scheduled the audition, Pippin and I took a longer walk than usual and walked past one of those little lending libraries in a park and I found the photographic essay for the 1994 Bridges of Madison County movie, starring Meryl Streep (!) and Clint Eastwood. It's a sign, right? Plus her 3 big songs (one of which is really an aria) are all in my new Singer's Musical Theatre Anthology, Soprano, volume 6. This means something. It has to.

Nope. Couldn't make it work, and if it was a sign, it's not for this production.

Well, I forgot about Concert Artists of Baltimore's Gershwin concert, for which I haven't received a contract yet, but which I've been told I'm doing. So I dutifully wrote up all my conflicts on the sheet, like a good little auditioner, and sang the absolute pants off of "How could I ever know." (Which, coincidentally, was sung by the woman right before me - not quite as-pants-off as my rendition, but sung well.) And the director said, "You have a marvelous voice. But you have too many conflicts."

DAMMIT.

For 10 years in Milwaukee, I did nothing. And now, this is the second time this year where I was engaged in too many other projects to do something I really wanted to do. And I can't audition for Candide at the Kennedy Center because it coincides with my trip to Milwaukee for Irish Fest. Even if I could audition for it on Tuesday, before I left, the callbacks are Friday.

DAMMIT.

The up side is that all the things that I'm doing that are keeping me from this role are paid things. I am making a living as a musician/actor and as a teacher. And I'll be able to go to the Maryland Renaissance Festival a few times, which I probably could not do if I were doing the show. This will make my husband happy.

I am also resolved to learn her songs. This is the first company in the area to do the show, it won't be the last. (But please, do it soon before I age out of the role.)

And the director liked me and wants to hear me again in the future. So maybe something else will come up.

But still.

DAMMIT.

Mindfulness v. concentration

 I have been trying to meditate for years. But I've been plagued with lifelong monkey mind (some might call it adult ADD) and have been unable to sit still and contemplate my navel. And I figured that perhaps that's just not my thing. After all, I have found that that kind of focus and rest immediately before a performance actually makes me wind up being more nervous once the performance begins (which was the subject of another blog entry a few years ago).

But as I get older (ugh), I find the need for stopping more to focus and to concentrate. On a whim, I purchased an app called The Daily Calm. I've been using it for months now for the sleep stories - stories in which someone reads to you, with the idea that you fall asleep. And I have to say - it works! It works better for me with male voices, for the most part. I don't know why, but I can fall asleep to the sound of a man's voice far easier than the sound of a woman's.

And because I'm a cheapskate, I figured I had better maximize the value of this paid app, so I've started doing the morning meditations. They're only ten minutes long, and each one has a different focus. Today's was Concentration, a subject that I was worried about because, well, see monkey mind, above.

But this particular one identified the difference between concentration and focusing on a particular topic and the awareness of mindfulness. Mindfulness is not judging - it is noticing and being aware. 

So applying this to singing practice:

• When you are vocalizing, you are mindful of what is happening. You notice that when you are doing an arpeggio, that the transition over the top may or may not be as successful as you like. You notice what is at play when it is successful and when it is not. 
• In order to make that transition more successful, you concentrate on the technical aspect that worked and apply it in every case. 

Mindfulness alone will not advance your abilities. It must be there for you to draw awareness, but the element of concentration/focus is essential for you to make change. Concentration without awareness is equally pointless. If you set a timer to practice for 15 minutes but are not aware of what is happening during that 15 minutes, the only thing that you have accomplished at the end of that time is having sung for 15 minutes. You must practice with focus and mindfulness in order to accomplish a goal. 

Perhaps, like my app, we could experiment with vocal practice by setting a one-word goal for a particular session. Some ideas might be:

• Legato
• Agility
• Resonance

How will you structure your time around that goal? What exercises will you use? What repertoire? How will you measure your accomplishment? Will this be a regular occurrence or just an experiment?