I lost my asterisk

I no longer get an asterisk! When you debut at the Metropolitan Opera House, your name appears on the infamous poster outside the entrance in the Lincoln Center Plaza, and on the ONE and ONLY occasion that is the evening of your debut, you are given a delicate, beautiful, perfectly proportioned asterisk, signaling that you will appear on the stage of the Met for the very first time that evening. My asterisk was for November 2, 2005. It was my one and only shot to have that little star by my name. And I loved it! I had set the goal for myself to find a way to truly enjoy the event, knowing that if I could manage that for myself, the audience might just come along for the ride; and in fact, I think they did. I truly had the time of my life, and will certainly not forget it for quite some time.

Perhaps the best part of the evening was being able to share it with so many beloved people – in some ways it felt as if it was a night more for ‘them’ than for me. As I’ve mentioned before, it takes an enormous amount of support and encouragement along the way for someone to be given the chance to have that asterisk by their name, and during the entire evening of chasing Barbarina and various chorus girls, I felt as if each one of those many people in my life were on the stage with me. Throughout the run I had numerous people make the long trip to share in the experience with me, from my parents, to 2 of my sisters, to my little brother, old school friends (Mark and Robi, hello!), to my college accompanists, several people in the ‘business’ who really took risks with me and gave me incredible opportunities, previous sponsors (now dear friends), so very many special, wonderful people. And even though it felt like a 3 weeklong wedding, it was glorious. I felt very warmly welcomed by the discerning NY Audience, and can guarantee that I will never forget my Asterisk Evening at the Met!


But, it wasn’t all Cherubino for me during NY. 5 days before I was to leave for my first day of rehearsal, back at the end of October, I received a call from my agent, asking if I could get on a plane immediately, learn the staging of the Met’s Cenerentola in a day, and stand by for what was to be it’s opening performance of the season the following evening. I was in the Apple store trying to get my files transferred from my old PC to the new Mac (which I’m still not completely comfortable with!), thinking, “but if I leave KC now, will my computer be ready? can I still get the oil changed in my car? how will I possibly pack for the next 8 months in such a short time? what about my niece’s baptism? how can I get my prescriptions lined up in time? and where is my score of Cenerentola…oh, never mind, I don’t think I need it.” I don’t know that I’ve ever had a more hectic 24 hours. It wasn’t the prospect of jumping into the show that unnerved me (I actually was quite confident I could get through it and enjoy it a lot), but it was the prospect of not having the final 5 days at home to organize my life for the next YEAR. You see, I’m essentially on the road, more or less, roughly until the start of 2007! So that threw me into a bit more of a panic than all those notes Rossini wrote.

However, I just managed to pull it off, and I had a magnificent rehearsal the next day, where all the covers were called in to rehearse with me. I can’t thank them enough – it was probably the last thing they wanted to do on their day off, but they were incredibly supportive and the most generous of colleagues. I had a lovely surprise when I walked into “the office” for that crazy day: I saw on the podium Scott Bergeson, who was my conductor in the Merola performance of Cenerentola back in 1997. It was really phenomenal to walk into a nerve-wracking situation and feel the genuine support of such generous colleagues such as Scott. And you know something? It was an incredibly easy rehearsal, as if we had just sung together last week! I don’t think people that sit in the audience have any idea of the incredible talent that fills the halls and the underground rehearsal spaces there at the Met. There is an unbelievable abundance of people behind the scenes that make that place produce the magic on a nightly basis. My esteem for them is off the charts. In the end, the scheduled singer went on, I had a big dinner with dear friends, enjoyed a Cosmopolitan, (or maybe it was two), and tried to come down off the incredible rush of the previous few days.

But that’s not ALL! In the midst of Nozze rehearsals, I was asked to jump into the new production of Romeo and Juliette, which was a highly anticipated event slated for Natalie Dessay and Ramon Vargas. It’s a role I’ve never sung (and have since retired, in all likelihood!) and I had to think very hard about the energy it would require. Here I was, not yet with that coveted asterisk in my back pocket, and being asked to learn a completely new role for the Met? I definitely didn’t want to risk sacrificing my Cherubino to learn another role, but I was surrounded by incredibly patient and supportive people, and with a few sleepless nights, and a couple of incredibly long days, I did indeed get through, and managed, again, to really enjoy it.

So that was my New York Experience. I left that amazing city bursting with emotions, feeling wholly exhausted, spent by the energy that is New York City, and completely charged at the same time: after all, I had worked hard for that little, perfect, memorable asterisk!



(Photos: Losing my asterisk outside the MET; with my beautiful sister, Amy, my dear friend, Jana, and another of beautiful sisters, Emily, all helping me celebrate surviving the Lion's Den behind us; and with the love of my life, Leo, atop Rockefeller Center, enjoying the glory that is the Big Apple)

Countdown to "The Debut"

It’s nearly impossible for me to imagine functioning in this career without my well-worn laptop by my side. I know times are different from the olden days when penmanship was a value to be treasured and handwritten letters seemed to deliver the very person to your doorstep; however, I must admit this little guy keeps me on top of things. Being able to catch up on my work while flying from home to “the office” saves the day for me! So, while I enjoy the city lights of Chicago underneath me, let’s catch up.

I’m flying back to NY from a less than 48 hour trip home to catch my Goddaughter’s baptism, as well as to change my luggage out from the somewhat lean fall items to the bulky winter items (the former being the much more pleasing event of the two!), as well as trying to concentrate on the rather packed week ahead.


Tomorrow morning we perform the final dress rehearsal of Nozze di Figaro. I can’t begin to describe how excited I am. I would not be telling the complete truth if I didn’t also admit my nerves are on “high alert”, (is that orange or red?), but in a very good way. I’m stepping into the shoes of a character that is revered and adored by all who love opera. That is a beautiful thing. But it also happens to bring with it, in this case, roughly 4,000 different ideas of how Cherubino should be played, which feels like a very tall order. However, I decided a long time ago that I would never step onto a stage and attempt to give the eager audience a bad imitation of a great singer who came before me. If I studied videos and poured through countless recordings to try and perfect an impersonation of Frederica von Stade, to me the quintessential Cherubino, I would never succeed. And I wouldn’t do her legacy any justice whatsoever.

So how do I approach stepping into the shoes of this, in my opinion, perfect character? I go back to the text. I try not to take one thing for granted that comes out of his mouth. I try to make his impulsive and desperate actions as spontaneous as possible, and to simply bring my voice to his words.

I have to say that rehearsing at the MET has been a dream for me. On Tuesday we went onto the stage for the first time, and the chills that went up and down my spine didn’t stop for nearly the entire rehearsal. Adding the orchestra (which is remarkable in every single way) to the mix on Thursday only upped the energy and the excitement I was feeling. I mean really, this is the dream of every American opera singer: to get that one chance to stand on that fabled stage and give it everything you’ve got. That having been said, however, while the environment is definitely thrilling, the thing I keep coming back to is what a masterpiece this opera is, and how privileged I am to breathe life into Mozart’s phrases and da Ponte’s words. That is the real joy for me. I am having the most wonderful time scrambling in and out of chairs, chasing everything in a skirt and jumping out windows, and I hope the magic will pour across the footlights tomorrow for the dress rehearsal, as well as for the entire run!


In the meantime, between chasing skirts, I’ll be jumping into the rehearsal process mid-way for the new production of Romeo and Juliette. It will make the next 2 weeks a bit chaotic to say the least, but if I can manage to stay rested and healthy, I think it will be a wonderful experience. I imagine during the coming weeks I will have many moments of wanting to pinch myself, but on the other hand, this is what I do, and for me, it always comes down to the fact that I’m there for the audience – the people with the season subscriptions that have been going to the MET for decades, as well as the students who are there analyzing every sound and consonant that comes out of ‘the pros’ mouths, as well as the one standing room ticket holder who grew up listening to broadcasts his whole life and finally got a ticket to THE MET to see and hear it in person for the first time, as well as those who have heard Figaro a thousand times, and the young aspiring musician who is experiencing Mozart’s magic for the first time. They all have their own story and will have their very individual opinions of the show that night – I love that!

On a technical note, I’m astounded at the machinery that is the Metropolitan Opera. You cannot begin to imagine all that is involved in putting on so many shows a week, countless productions a year. I marvel at the costume department that is constantly altering costumes for any number of singers, (there must be 6 name tags in my Cherubino vest!), building new pieces for the new productions, catering to the singer’s every need, as they truly want each and every singer to look and feel their best. The technical crew maneuvers around backstage with such mastery, moving enormous set pieces in and out in a way that appears effortless, always taking great pride in their expertise and their immaculate backstage. The music staff: I cannot begin to say enough on their behalf. This is a group of such consummate musicians who bring incredible proficiency to the rehearsal room, such dedication, and with very little reward. With all of these people, if they’ve done their job right, you will never notice their work, which I imagine could be a challenge to their morale. However, I notice, and I know that the dedication and knowledge of all the workers at this theater is an enormous reason it is called THE MET.

So after a week of long rehearsals, of tiring photo shoots, of beautiful baptisms, of learning a new role, and of jumping out that window at least 10 times, I’m ready for the opening, and I’ll be working hard to give the Met audience my best Cherubino. Enjoy!

(Photos: With my neice and goddaughter, Yalei, at her beautiful baptism; thrown into another world of costumes and makeup, as Cherubino with the "Antonio" of Patrick Carfizzi backstage at the Metroplitan Opera)