the itch... not THAT kind of itch...

Practicing is a funny thing. It sneaks up on you when you're not looking. After work today, instead of dutifully going to the gym, and then to the music building, I made the scandalous decision to take the afternoon off, and practice when I wanted to. I read some in The Poisonwood Bible (a truly amazing book), napped, snacked, and finally decided to go out for a walk to return my last library book. As I was leaving, I decided to bring my back pack and music with me, just in case. I'm not good at taking walks by myself. Sooner or later, in an infinite world of places to go, I end up bored or confused, or in need of calling someone, or whatever. It turned out not to be as cool outside as I had thought, so I ended up sitting in the shade of an obliging tree, deciding what to do next. Practicing, as I have been extremely diligent about it, was of course the obvious thought. "Well, but I don't knoooowwwww..." I said. The little voice: "You'll be sorry..." The truth is, that I am leaving for AIMS in three days, and missing one day of practicing after all this time might not be that big a deal... but then again it might. Like an athlete, a singer needs to keep her voice "in shape," in order to be her best. This phrase I read in one of the recommended reading books haunts me: "If you don't sing for one day, you know it. If you don't sing for two days, God knows it. If you don't sing for three days, everybody knows it." Ouch. So I pulled out my binder of music, and started flipping through it... and then I flipped through my notebook where I keep a log of what I practice, and how it's going, and ideas I have for improving, etc. I thought about things I could do today in the practice room, things that really weren't that ingrained in my mind and body, that could use more excercise. Plus, yesterday I had a kind of a breakthrough in warming up. (Singing a sustained high E with good technique.) Anyway, I was sold, and off I went. Warming up, I was pretty unfocused, thinking about the eggplant parmesan I was planning on baking when I got home, and the bottle of champagne I might buy, if I was good... The E was slightly less sustained, but still there. After 15-20 minutes of warming up, I brought out Musetta, and worked on the new character concept that Professor Cole had given me... Sort of unfocused, but writing things down helped... I'm definitely getting over the technical hurdle which unexpectedly appeared a few days ago. Cleopatra: Recitative: lyric. A: noble B: Hubris A': Broken pride. Not only is my position in life completely rent asunder, but I discovered this feeling of love, and I have lost that, too. And it's my fault. I ROCKED OUT on it. After that, the thoughts of champagne and eggplant parmesan were somewhere else entirely. I worked a bit on Ach and Adele's Laughing Song, but it was mostly the Moniuszko aria... I learned the B section... and sang through it several times, working with the Polish diction. Really, I wanted to die, I was so happy. Emerging from the practice room after about 70 or 80 minutes, I felt like a new person. I've never been in love, but this has got to be pretty damn close.

Thoughts on a Saturday evening

Don is coming by in a bit, and we're going to Iron Hill for some drinks, which should be good and comparatively inexpensive times. I've been on this raw foods fast for the past three days (wed and fri I only ate raw foods, and thursday I fasted), so eating real food today gave me ridiculous amounts of energy. Which was actually really nice. I made buckwheat pancakes this morning, and eggplant in garlic sauce with ginger and peanut sauteed tofu and coconut rice for dinner. I'm listening to Carmen, but I don't think I'll finish before we leave. Helas. I had such a crush on one of the soldiers when I was in Carmen... he was my first kiss. Opera in the Heights started me down the path towards sin. Ah, well. I hate how Maria Callas (and pretty much every other Carmen) cannot sing "La" to save their lives. Or... they choose not to 85% of the time. They sing some fusion of "Luh" and "Loo." WHYYYYYY?????????????????????? Also: I hate it when certain people have strep. What is that? Nicolai Gedda is a sublime Don Jose. And I'm extremely critical of Tenors. I think that if the whole opera singer business doesn't work out, maybe I would like to be a music critic. Of course, I'd be a horribly embittered one, but that goes without saying. I'm already the bitchy nitpicker in my art song class. I miss working with grown ups. I guess that will come soon enough, if I'm lucky. (Please let me be lucky...)

random weird vegetarian thoughts

It's IWC time again... International Whaling Conference, that is. In the past, whaling countries such as Japan have been in the minority, leading overall to stricter regulations on the hunting of whales. Supposedly this year, four nations have joined the IWC, three of which support whaling, so the balance may be tipped. It seems a little funny to me that so many western nations are so worked up about whales in particular, but have no qualms with how other animals are treated. Personally, I tend to agree that whales are incredibly special and intelligent animals, which should be conserved. However, I do think that the western nations are altogether hypocritical with their criticism of Japan for their culture which eats an animal we don't... especially as the Japanese are probably a lot less wasteful of the rest of the whale than we are of any given cattle farm.

Anyway, I have no research to back all of this up, aside from the random BBC article I read... and really I don't know how much it matters anyway, because I tend to think that whaling is wrong anyway... so is it better to hunt and kill whales, who are highly intelligent creatures, or to farm and brutally mistreat cattle and pump them full of hormones and throw most of the carcass away? I saw this ad on TV for some kind of beef hotdogs, which was talking about which parts of the cow they use... the front, not the back! It made me really happy that I dont' eat meat.

8:20 comes so soon

I need to be taking a shower.... but I can't get myself to get out of this chair for another 5 minutes, I think. Last night my dream was very... We the Living-ish... I was running from the system. *laughs* Some evil lady was chasing me, and caught me to bring me back... but I had a plan, I think. Events being played out. Dreams are great. Looks like rain today. Coffee is so good. Need a new book to take too work with me... something short, so that when I finish Making Music in Looking Glass Land, I can start something auf Deutsch. Ah. The Secret Sharer by Conrad will probably do nicely. And now, to the shower.

McCoy Tyner...

This evening, I went to the jazz festival in Wilmington with Denis, which ended up being an unbelievable night... a real demonstration of how music can affect one so profoundly. The first group to play was this saxophone quintet of west coast lesbians. Not sure who thought a saxophone quintet would be a good idea in the first place... but this group was not only musically horrible, but also unbelievably pretentious. They played all sorts of pieces supposedly inspired by "Kenyan melodies" and such, and the lady who sang ululated horrifically. By the end of the performance, both Denis and I were about ready to take someone's head off.

Denis' brother came by about the time that the first group ended, and then McCoy Tyner came on... for those of you who don't know (as I did not, before tonight), he is this revolutionary jazz pianist who has played with Coltrane, and the like. It was him, an upright bass, and drums. I have never been so happy at a jazz concert in my life. The harmonies, the rhythm, the energy, the way they interacted musically... just about killed me. McCoy had this incredibly interesting technique of playing that occasionally blurred the lines between harmony and banging... it was so raw. The bass player whipped out his bow at some point, and played arco and col legno... just whaling. It was such a catharsis...



Rock on, you 78 year old jazz man.

Story time

Once upon a time, there was a young girl named Natalia. Natalia did everything she ought to do. Or... almost everything. She did her homework, never drank too much (not really understanding those who did), practiced, sang with a local opera company, didn't bother too much with boys, wouldn't think of smoking pot, and altogether lived the clean life.

Well, wasn't that a nice story? I'm doing this workbook that is supposed to help me with my performance/career, and it starts out asking all these questions about "who I am." Because supposedly in order to be a good singer/performer, I need to know who I am. The question that really got me the most was "Where do you see yourself in relation to the rest of the world?" My answer was essentially that I am unbelievably priviledged, and come from an extraordinarily good family. Basically, I haven't progressed that much beyond my roots. I have a lot of talent in several areas, but I don't know that I have ever moved beyond relying on my talent into the realm of hard work... which is really so much more admirable. I really don't think that I am going to change the world, and that is sad to me... because I used to think that I would. Just by being awesome. I mean, that's a pretty ridiculous thing to think, right? I've sort of downsized my vision into doing what I can within the realm of my life. I can't help other people if I am not solid. Anyway I'm still not sure if that's a cop-out, or growth.

The other question which was particularly interesting was "what are the most important freedoms in my life, and how do I make use of them?" There were several answers... the freedom of living in this society, the freedom of having a nonrepressive, well off family... but particularly: The freedom of youth. How do I use that? I make mistakes, I act irresponsibly, I stay out late, I party, and I follow my passion for music and performance. I've got the rest of my life to be good.