The golden hue of silence

Dialogue. I love a great dialogue! And perhaps one thing that the general theater-going audience may not realize, is that there is a very real and palpable dialogue which occurs between the performers and the audience when I am on stage. Almost from the very first bars of music, and I can feel an energy between ‘you’ in the house and ‘us’ on the stage. For example, I’m currently performing in ‘La Cenerentola’ here at La Scala, and the dialogue feels as colorful and animated as you would expect from any proud, gesturing Italian. As the curtain rises on this production, and you hear the first chords of the overture (led masterfully by the incomparable Maestro Campanella), here is what happens: I am ‘pre-set’ in the house, invisible to the audience, and I’m making certain my stool is arranged properly, that the coffee grinder in just the right spot, that the bowl I hand over to the bass later on in the scene is set just so, I visit my ‘Tisbe’ stage left to wish her a great show, and then over to stage right to wish my long-time ‘Clorinda’ the very same, (which usually elicits a rash of jokes and laughter between us, as I call her the ‘Carol Burnett’ of the opera stage!), I high-five Roberto, the ASM (and major cheerleader), and then the final lip rolls to make sure the voice is moving fluidly as I hum along with the second violins… and then the applause for the overture erupts: the audience has spoken! Let the discourse begin! After the first chords of the overture, this is the second burst of adrenaline I eagerly await to let me know there is an audience here and that they’re ready to be carried away for a few hours. As soon as the curtain rises on our little house, there is an immediate energy which I can feel that you send across the orchestra and footlights and into our little scene on the stage. The show has begun.

For my opening night, the energy that was sent to us on the stage lit us up. It was infectious. The energy charged with dazzling electricity. It was the kind of dialogue that makes you sit on the edge of your chair and savor every word the other person shares with you. And so the evening went! I think as performers, often the best sound can be thunderous applause, which happily was in ample supply for the opening; but sometimes the sweetest sound is that of rapt silence which occasionally accompanies the softest passages, those most magical, suspended moments -- these silences are the parts of the dialogue that tell us that you’re truly listening, and it causes us to focus our tone even more, to infuse each phrase with even more intensity and to send it to you in with a laser beam-like intention. This is my favorite kind of dialogue with you, the audience: It takes a huge 3,000 seat theater, full of busy technicians backstage, scurrying ushers in the lobby, and singers still warming up in their dressing rooms -- and transforms it all into a tiny, intimate, magical space where we all tell a story.

I just love it.


And I truly love playing this role of Cenerentola. I’m beginning to see, only now, the real value of singing a role over and over, as the great singers of the past were afforded the luxury to do. I think I sang a very decent Cinderella my first time out (8 years ago in a Stern Grove production with Merola, IN ENGLISH!) however, there is simply no comparison to how I feel in her shoes now, after perhaps 50 performances or more of the role. If you’re a young singer and intend on undertaking some of the big roles, begin NOW to devour the role: not just vocally (PLEASE, not just vocally!), but really go into the text, into the musical language of the character, and give it a lot of time to season in your mind and heart. I feel very different this time out at La Scala, compared to 4 years ago, and I know that’s strictly due to experience on the stage. I’m so grateful to have the chance to revisit these particular shoes!


That having been said, American singers, a word of warning: get used to singing without air conditioning when you sing in Europe. Just accept it now. I’m still a little unclear as to why, exactly, it seems to be an epidemic among European Singers (whom I respect tremendously, let me be very clear!), that they are unable to sing when there is a hint of a whirl of an air conditioning unit located, perhaps, somewhere in the near vicinity of the city in which they are performing! And did I mention that July in Milan is as close to Dante’s Inferno as I ever want to get? If you’re taking part in a summer program (Glimmerglass, Chautauqua, Seagull, etc) and you’re dying in the heat -- just smile and think of it as your training for your La Scala debut in the heat of an Italian Summer!


The bottom line is that I’m eternally grateful to the audience for being a part of such a wonderful dialogue. As I mentioned in an earlier post, it can sometimes prove a bit fatiguing to be up against the more unpleasant elements of this business, however, when I’m given the chance to truly engage and sing with all my heart, and when it is received so well on the other side of the footlights, well, it is just a tremendous gift to me.

GRAZIE MILLE, MILANO! GOOD NIGHT!

(Now time for me to settle in for a bit of Wimbledon watching and cheering Lance on to hopefully, his 7th Victory!)

(Photos: Magical curtain call, that coveted poster, with the brilliant Roberto de Candia as Dandini - a truly wonderful performer and PERSON!)

Not in Kansas Anymore

Talk about your change of scenery! Last I wrote I was in the upper Midwest in Chamber Music Heaven -- now? I am in Milan, Italy and my temporary apartment is situated just above Via Montenapoleone, perhaps the most famous (and possibly dangerous) shopping street in the world: home to Gucci, Versace, D&G and all the rest! Honestly? It's not a place I would call very 'homey', but for the next 5 weeks, I'll have the challenge of making it just that! I've had quite a busy time since Minnesota, and in a way, it sums up what my life as an singer encompasses.

My time back in Kansas City flew by, as it always seems to do, with never enough hours in the day to accomplish all I need to do with those few, precious hours actually in my home. Lots of family to see, lots of friends to catch up on, music to prepare, and thanks to my air conditioning breaking down in my car, 4 different trips to the mechanic to achieve an actual CURE for the cooling system! I also continued the painting project in my loft, and I'm happy to say that the final brush was cleaned out just in time to pack for my 3 ½ months abroad in Europe this summer! (The scraping of the baseboards will have to wait until I get back in the fall!)

I kicked off my marathon tour here in Europe with a challenging concert in Halle, the birthplace of Handel, and the host to a very vivid and busy Handel Festival each year. To sing some of Handel's great masterpieces in the Festival was indeed an honor. Among a mixture of arias and duets, it was my debut performing 'Ariodante' arias, singing "Dopo notte" and "Scherza infida" in public for the first time, and it was just enough of a taste to really excite me for when I will be able to perform the entire role on stage. It is quite a masterpiece! I must say, however, that this was a tough job. It seemed to be about everything else, rather than simply making music, and that is a tough position to be in when your goal is to move the audience emotionally through this music. Instead, it seemed to be about a lot of other things. (Side note: in defense of singers who sometimes make demanding requests: While I fully admit there needs always to be rationality and balance at play, often those demands are requested to keep the musician's mind on doing their job -- making music. I find that in instances where I need to do the jobs of other people, I arrive at the concert or performance with a great deal of difficulty trying to focus simply on the music at hand -- and this can be a great source of frustration.) This was one such experience. However, as they say, "the show must go on", and indeed it did, and in the end I think we did make beautiful music -- I just want you to know it's not always an easy path to forge! However, if you are anywhere near Germany, keep an eye out for it on your National Television, as we were filmed for broadcast! As soon as I hear of a broadcast date, I'll let you know!

Then I repacked my 2 enormous suitcases and headed towards Milan, ready for the next adventure. And it is La Scala, which naturally means adventures are waiting to be had! It is a theater which functions as no other I have ever witnessed. As is typical of this house, the second cast begins rehearsing (the first cast is generally allowed to show up quite late into the process), and we work very intensely and cohesively. The talk immediately turns to 'when are your performances?', and of course, no one REALLY knows. La Scala has the rather exasperating practice of delaying the doling out of information to the artist, instead, choosing to hold their exact plan of action very close to the vest. Luckily, I discovered all of this on my first trip to this theater 4 years ago, and I find that I can take it a bit more in stride this time around; however, not being able to set your pacing in rehearsals for your opening creates an incredible challenge. For example, we, as the second cast, have no idea of how many orchestra rehearsals we will be given, if any, and if or when we might get stage rehearsal time; how in the world do you gauge yourself in the rehearsal room with only the piano, not knowing when your next run-thru of the piece will be? It just possibly could be 12 days from now in front of a packed house at perhaps the most famous opera house in the world! You just never know.


The good thing to take from this, is that I approach each rehearsal now very seriously, singing nearly everything, and mentally preparing myself for my opening, whenever it may be. This kind of training, to my mind, is invaluable, as I attribute the majority of the success or failure of a given performance to one's mental preparation. I also treasure the collaborative time with my cast -- we are given the chance to really create a cohesive ensemble which will have a lot of chemistry come the opening night. Personally, I am not a fan of the 'add water and stir' approach to opera, and so I highly value this quiet time the seconda compagnia gets to slowly create our own version of Cenerentola!

It is definitely a challenge to stay focused on the task at hand, and to keep from being pulled into the many machinations which are simply put, out of your control. It is a juggling act. While balancing on a very tight wire. Singing. That is why after a concert such as in Halle, and a first week of tough rehearsals, I will be thrilled to get in front of the audience again, and just make music.
Even if it is on a high wire.
Juggling.
While singing a lot of fast notes!
Let the games begin!

(photos: Relaxing at Lake Como; In front of the coveted La Scala Poster for Cenerentola)