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?

Release / Receive / Release / Resist

Someone wrote on FB today:

Let's pretend we're creating your mantra - three words you say to yourself when you need motivation, inspiration, courage or strength. What is YOUR three word mantra?

So I wrote what I've come up with as my approach to breathing, specifically for singing:

Release / Receive / Resist.

Actually, I teach it as Release / Receive / Release / Resist.

Release: The lower abdominal muscles so that you can:
Receive: The air as it enters your body

Release: The exhalation

Resist: The flow of the air

When I work with beginning singers, I ask them to consciously release (blow out) all their air and not inhale again until their body requires it. Not really hold the breath, but don't consciously suck in the air. Let the body take it in when it needs it. They become very aware that our bodies will take in the air naturally when it is needed, without pulling it in, without gasping. The muscles release so that the air can be received. Then, as we sing (exhaling with sound), we focus on finding the point of resistance between the ribs and oblique abdominals to maintain the airflow without restricting it.

Resistance isn't restriction. We aren't restricting or constricting. We are managing the airflow. 

How does this apply to our lives? Pretty much the same thing.

We release our intentions so that we can receive what needs to come. And then we act (release) but we are mindful of what those actions involve and we manage the outcome so that life just doesn't happen to us.

Singing is life. Life is singing. Rinse and repeat. 

(Ooh, that's a good mantra, too. Never mind the other. Just rinse and repeat.)

The Awakening/Staying Woke

I've been thinking a lot about the terms "staying woke" and "awakening."

The Urban Dictionary definition of "stay woke" is "to keep informed of the shitstorm going on around you in times of turmoil and conflict." It is often associated with movements such as Black Lives Matter, but is also being used with the resistance to the current administration.

Right before I left Milwaukee, I sang at the Unity Church in Elm Grove, and I've been back a couple of times since I moved away. (I get to make $100 and, between that and having a couple of lessons with Connie Haas, I can write off the trip as a business expense!) That church begins their service with a piece called "The Awakening." The first words are:

WELCOME - WELCOME -
WELCOME TO YOUR AWAKENING

CHORUS: ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER WAY
I HAVE COME FOR MY AWAKENING
ANOTHER START FOR MY HEART
I HAVE COME FOR MY AWAKENING

Yeah. Corny. But it means something to the congregation, and that's my job, to help them with that journey.

I'm trying to be more present, more mindful, and more aware in my life. Whether that is as a performer, as a teacher, as a director, or just as a puppy mama/person walking this planet.

It seems self-consciously hip (and smacks a bit of cultural appropriation) for me to say "stay woke." But I'm going to try to open my heart, my mind, my eyes, and my ears so that I can stay aware and awake and receive what possibilities still lie ahead for me.

Solemn Joy and Sudden Spark

Energy.

It's really all about energy. That solemn joy and that sudden spark (from the song "Our children" from Ragtime).

Your energy on stage, whether you're acting, singing, dancing, conducting or playing an instrument, has to be palpable. It has to draw in not only the audience but your fellow actors. There needs to be a spark that engages us and makes us want to know what you're going to do next and how we're going to respond to that. Even if we know what happens next in the play, what your next line will be, and what the ending will be. Your energy needs to signal that something is going to happen and it's going to be epic.

If you have the energy, it doesn't matter if you're 5'2" or 5'10", if you're 110 pounds soaking wet or twice that. It doesn't matter if you have a full head of hair or are as bald as an egg (which, for some reason, I called "spoon-headed" when I was little - I guess because shiny?). It doesn't matter if you're as graceful as a gazelle or as awkward as a new puppy. You can be the world's greatest singer or just - eh. It doesn't matter.

This is what I am looking for as an actor, as an audience member, and as a director. Yes, a director hopefully will bring out the best in each of her actors, but there are certain roles that require more to be there in the first place. If you weren't cast in the role, it's because you didn't fit it in some way. If I'm not cast in a role, it's because I didn't fit it in some way. There's another role I will fit. There's another role you will fit. Sometimes they aren't the roles we want.

We have to move on. 

Bloom where you're planted

I have a lot on my mind right now, but this was the thing that spoke to me in my morning meditation (which was on the subject of lobsters, of all things).

Singing Outside the Box (is that a good title?)

As a classically trained singer, I have been trained in the International Phonetic Alphabet so that I can sing in a myriad of other languages, some of which were required of me academically, others contractually, and some just because I wanted to. I have sung in

1. Italian - multiple operas, art songs, etc.
2. French - same
3. German - lieder, operas
4. Chinese - The Savage Land, Washington Opera (all I remember is a phrase that meant "go to hell through 18 layers of soil)
5. Russian (although NOT as a soloist) - operas, ballet chorus, choral music
6. Hebrew 
7. Latin
8. Ladino - kind of a Hebrew/Spanish
9. Estonian - mother's native language
10. Slovenian - father's native language

There may be other languages in which I've sung that I don't recall. But I've never sung solo repertoire in Spanish, Portuguese, or Russian. The latter is because of my parents' virulent anti-Communist bent, where I was discouraged from doing anything even remotely Russian. My father asked me if I was a Communist because I wanted a red plaid jumper. My response was that I was only 6.

My plan is that I am going to prepare a recital of repertoire in languages in which I have not sung. I'm thinking either Spanish or Portuguese, Russian, and ... Irish Gaelic. I have three poems in Irish Gaelic that I have had for years. I need to commission a composer to set them (currently working on getting pronunciation recorded by a native Irish speaker - surprisingly (or not) not an easy task). I thought I had someone lined up but she hasn't seen fit to respond to my emails, so I need to move on to someone who is actually interested in the project.

I'm not sure what to call this program - right now it's Outside the Box, but that's not resonating with me at this point.

The nobility of PERFORMING

Last year I went to the NATS Chicago conference and bemoaned the fact that I had taken an unintentional hiatus from performing for nearly 10 years. Specifically, I posted on Facebook:

Something that makes me a little sad is that, although my voice is still working just FINE, thankyouverymuch, I missed out on performance opportunities because I focused so much on my teaching. Which was in part because I wasn't getting a chance to perform. And while I love teaching and feel like I've made a difference to students (past, present, and future), what more could I have done as a performer??

It's interesting to see the comments that were made. They mainly run the gamut from "I know what you mean" to "It's never too late." But there was one comment that was made that took me aback a bit, because I think it reveals the perspective that people have about performing as being less noble than teaching. And that comment was:

As a performer, you touched the present. Teachers touch the future.

My immediate response to that was then as it is now.

I don't think it's just the present we [as performers] touch. I don't think of it as ephemeral. 

I have seen so many performances that touched me deeply, that made a difference in my life. Performances that were authentic, that told the truth, and that were noble. That doesn't mean they were serious, necessarily, They could have been just as easily musicals or comedies as they were dramas. If Gilligan's Island touched you back when you were a kid (and I bring this up because when Carmen was on the radio Saturday, my husband began singing "Never a borrower nor a lender be!" along with the Toreador Song, so clearly, there's an example of leaving an impression), does that mean it was pointless?

Perhaps that's not the best example, but it was the first one that popped into my head.

There is still more work to do, as a teacher, a director, and a performer, and as a person. I'm not just one or the other, and one is not better than another. And I want to touch the past, present, and the future. 

Some reflections ( a year late) on NATS 2016

I am having the best summer. The weather is perfect, I'm teaching at home, I closed a show in May (Little Women, as both Marmee and director, debut for both), wrote and put on a cabaret show in less than 4 weeks after that, and am getting into the best physical shape I've been in since I moved out here in 2013. I'm picking up church gigs and so far haven't had to tap into my summer fund, which is usually how I live through the summer.

And last year I had a good summer, as well, but I didn't write anything about it. I tweeted things that caught my fancy, particularly at the NATS2016 conference in Chicago, but I didn't really say anything about how this affected me.

So, from last year's FB posts/tweets, showing up in my On This Day on Facebook:

• "Share who you are. It's not enough to just stand and sing well." -Renée Fleming #NATSinChicago.
  This is all about vulnerability. It is not enough to sing pretty. Lots of people sing pretty. It's about being brave enough to share yourself with people, people who might not like you or what you have to say. The singer who goes to the next level is vulnerable. And vulnerability is not weakness (there's a previous entry on this).
  
  
• "We don't have an art form if we don't have new works. We don't have a relevant art form. We have a historical art form" @reneesmusings #NATSinChicago
  
  Opera - or ballet, or theater - is not stagnant. It is not enough to perform the same piece over and over as a museum piece. It must evolve. There must be new works. And when there are old works, they must be looked at with new eyes. That doesn't necessarily mean they should be updated or turned on their heads. I saw Midsummer Night's Dream last night at Baltimore Shakespeare Factory. Excellent production, relatively traditional - but it was done with such a fresh spin that I got things out of it that I haven't gotten before. Lines that I'd not noticed before were especially funny or touching.
  
  
• W. Stephen Smith on the importance of double consonants in Italian: "if you say 'quindici anni,' you're saying 15 years. If you say 'quindici ani,' you're saying 15 assholes." #VeryDifferent #NATSinChicago
  
  Pay attention!! Details matter!! (And I think we've all met at least quindici ani in our lives by this point, haven't we?)

Decluttering My Space and My Time

When I left Milwaukee 4 years ago, I got rid of a lot of stuff that I didn't feel I needed to take with me. I had thought I'd gotten rid of a lot of stuff the year before, when we started our major remodeling project for what we thought was going to be our "forever" - or at least for ten years - home. But then when we decided to move out east, we realized that we still had a lot of stuff that we didn't need.

And then we moved into what is now our "forever" - or as close to forever as anything really is - home, and discovered that we still had way too much stuff. And we keep accumulating things, despite our best efforts.

So I am taking advantage of this summer to try to keep what "sparks joy" (or at least not "provokes ennui") and get rid of the rest. (This concept is from Marie Kondo's book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.) Yesterday, I bought new workout clothes and I'm going to go through some of the 25+ year old t-shirts that I have prided myself on still being able to fit into - so what if you can see through them - and toss things out. No, they're not going to become rags. We have rags. If you have a t-shirt that you say is going to be a rag, sooner or later, it's going to wind up on your back when you're in a hurry. OUT.

Also going through costume jewelry. Some things I may designate as potential props for studio recitals, future shows, etc., and they will go upstairs, in our prop/costume/workout space.

Of course, this means that I need to organize my upstairs prop/costume/workout space and see what it is I don't need up there.

I suspect that this is going to be harder than I expected.

How does this affect me musically, since that's supposed to be the point of this blog?

I'm also trying to re-do my studio vocalise sheets and toss out the vocalises that I have never used, which just filled space on the page when I first created them for a workshop 10+ years ago.

I have a project in mind for a poster paper to present at NATS in June 2018, and I figure the less clutter I have at hand, the less clutter I have in mind. (The due date for that is December 1, 2017, so I have a bit of time to organize this.)

If I have less stuff taking up space in my place, I will have less stuff taking up space in my mind. And hopefully, that will spark joy.

And I didn't even have to buy the book to get this insight. Huh.

Why I Write.... Or Not

It's more likely why don't I write these days.....

When I was a little girl, I wrote all the time. Usually stories about people escaping from occupied countries in Europe. Sometimes I wrote song parodies, sitcom parodies, and I really loved writing book reports, reading and analyzing things and expressing my response to them.

And then I discovered music and was able to give voice to things in a completely different way. But I still did some writing. I published a few articles in Classical Singer magazine, under a nom de plume, which was Melinda O'Meally. You see, I never thought I'd remarry, and I figured since Melinda was my cat's middle name and O'Meally was my boyfriend's name, no one would be the wiser. And then I remarried, and I took his name. (And that's a whole 'nother blog.)

My first entry in this blog was 4/22/2009, in which I talked about writing and singing, and called that entry Why I Sing. I wrote a lot the first few years - 31 times in 2009, 27 in 2010, 13 in 2011, 16 in 2012, and 20 in 2013. And then I moved.....

And in 2014 I wrote twice, 2015 8x, 2016 5x, and this is my 2nd entry of 2017. What the hell happened?

I don't write, I rarely read (Real Simple, InStyle and The Costco Connection do not count).

A lot of the blame can be put on social media, especially in this political climate.

I am directing, I am teaching, I am performing, and I am creating (cabaret show a few weeks ago, to be reprised on November 17 at Germano's, and a reprise of my show with Ryan Cappleman, also at Germano's, on April 13, 2018). But something is missing. And that needs to change.

I still have another month and a half left of summer, and during that time, I think I'm going to have to force myself to write and to read.

I've never read many of the classics .... I forced myself to re-read Little Women when I was getting ready to direct it and it was a chore for the first 100 pages (then it flew). I've read some Bronté (Jane Eyre), but I've never read any Jane Austen.

There are many projects that I have yet to attack this summer, but one of them, as God is my witness, is that I'm going to become a reader again. And then, hopefully, a writer.

And in the meantime, I hope to start finding something to write about.