Have you ever had a REALLY GREAT hour? (Tour: Day 10)

The pain au chocolat and fresh eggs (yes, in that order!) for breakfast this morning more than made up for the "hamburger" last night. Wow, do the French know how to do breakfast! Another farewell to yet another hotel room, and it was off to catch the Eurostar and check another city off my whirlwind tour. Smooth ON TIME travel brought me into St. Pancras station with 30 minutes to meet my next hotel and be whisked off to a live on-air interview with Sean Rafferty on his BBC live program, "In Tune".

I've done his program a few times before, and I marvel at his ease with facts and names and witty retorts - he really is a genius at not only the intricacies of many genres of music, but at the art of the interview, which is not an easy thing to finesse!

I arrived at the BBC lobby, and noticed a woman sitting across the way with a cello case, and I thought, "Hmm. She must be a guest on the show as well," as they prefer to have live performances when possible. (Usually I partake as well, but sadly not this time, having just arrived on the train!) Well, I was partly right. The cello was for a performance on the program - but it didn't belong to her.

It belonged to Yo Yo Ma.

As in YO YO MA!!!

I won't lie: my knees went a little weak. And my voice might have risen an octave or so in excitement.



I hardly know what to say, explaining what it is like to sit in a room with such a masterful, generous musician and human being, and witness their music making. He was consumed with joy, and I marveled at his every phrase as he made that little cello SING so gloriously.

I'm still pinching myself that I met him, spoke with him, listened to him ... he personifies every thing I believe music making should be about. And witnessing it first hand was a true gift to me.

If you'd like to listen to the interview, it's available for the next week, only, on the BBC "In Tune" website.

I can say without a doubt, it was one of the coolest hours I've ever spent in my life!

Snow and really bad, expensive burgers (Tour: Days 8 &9)

I took it as a good omen: waking up to snow flurries in Paris isn't something that happens every day of the week, for their winters tend more towards grey skies (which generally aren't gonna clear up), and drizzle. Much as I love Paris, I never have warmed to their winters - for if it's going to precipitate in the unending winter months, I would prefer the white stuff, thank you very much! Call me midwestern!

But there it was: SNOW! It was beautiful, and put me in a great frame of mind to arrive at the Salle Pleyel concert hall for the first time, ready to make the very most of it.



The warm up had a great feel to it, as immediately the orchestra felt at ease in the beautiful accoustic, as did I - I was worried that perhaps I had been terribly spoiled in Amsterdam, but this newly refurbished concert hall cooperated beautifully in relaxing us, knowing that the full palette of dynamics would be ours for the taking.

Now, I'm experienced, and I should know better - but sure enough, in the hallway as the orchestra was tuning up, I say to Christophe, "You know, it's kind of stupid of me to start the concert directly with such an exposed aria, much as I love it!" And we had a little laugh. Well, what did I do? Open my mouth and bobble the very first note like an idiot! But it passed quite quickly, and maybe those friendly acoustics helped mask the "hiccup" a bit (surely not for the live radio, however!), but I was once again reminded about being careful about what you put your attention on!!!! I laughed internally, grabbed my concentration as quickly as I could, and hopefully by the second phrase no one was dwelling on the first!

The concert proceeded really well - immediately I felt the immense warmth of the public (merçi BEAUCOUP, Pareeee!), and both the orchestra and I continue to grow into the program, which feels wonderful. Again, the public here in Paris makes me feel unbelievably fortunate, for there were so many kind words, (and gifts - thank you so much!) and overwhelming good will.

This was very much on my mind today as I did one of four (!) interviews - as the question was posed" "Do you worry about the future of opera?" And I didn't hesitate in my answer. I do not. I know times are hard. I know fear permeates nearly every decision most people are making in these days. I know everyone is on pins and needles waiting for answers to these huge questions floating around the globe - but I think about the energy and the feelings that I have felt on this short tour so far, and I've seen and witnessed first hand the appetite for beauty, for art, for feeling, and for connection. These are things that I think have drawn people for CENTURIES to this art form (and others as well), and will CONTINUE to attract us all in generations to come. I think of the atrocities of humanity that "music" has vanquished, and I just can't imagine that our global "hiccup" will do us in! After all, we have history on our side...

I suppose this doesn't mean there won't be very trying growing pains, adjustments, closings or disasters. There may be. But I do know that we are an imaginative, resourceful and determined people who believe in the power and need for art - so I'm positive we will find our way.

And to put my money where my mouth is, I went out and about for a few hours today on a date with the Eiffel Tower, which, to my surprise, is BLUE! In honor of Sarkozy serving as President of the European Union they have turned the most recognizable structure into a celebration of this appointment:



I personally LOVE it and had a ball shooting picture after picture. (As always, you can see more shots on my FLICKR photo page) and after my fingers became frozen from shooting, I hurried home to warm up, called room service and ordered the most expensive, but by far, THE WORST hamburger I have ever had. (I'm sure it tasted worse knowing how much I was paying for it!). I know Paris knows food: fois gras, salmon, haricots verts? All sublime. But come on, mes amis - learn to grill a burger!!! (Or at the very least, cut the price by 80%!)



Congratulations to the Nobel Peace Prize recipient, Martti Ahtisaari, who also offers words of comfort with the following quote: "Every conflict can be solved." That is most reassuring.

Next up: London!

Things that rock (Tour: Day 7)

The high speed Thalys train from Amsterdam to Paris - THAT HAS WIFI.

Not only was the trip quiet, peaceful and uneventful (aside from arriving 30 minutes late - but this is now, officially the theme of the tour, so I welcome it!), but everything about the trip was pleasant and relaxed. Ah - to travel by train!

I arrived in Paris in time to partake in 2 interviews, take in the new colors on the Eiffel Tower (fabulous - hopefully pictures to follow) and settle in for a quiet, recuperative evening in a lovely, oh-so-French hotel.

Next up: Salle Pleyel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Concertgebouw (Tour: Days 5 & 6)

Nearly 7 years ago to the day, more or less, I sat in this very concert hall, entering its fabled doors for the very first time to take my seat way up in the balcony (the cheapest seats available), and was swept away by the grandness that is Jessye Norman. She flitted and floated and glided down the long carpeted stairs that lead to the center stage (does any concert hall in the world have as grand an entrance?), with her layers of chiffon wafting about her, and proceeded to fill the gorgeous, sublime, serene concert hall with her overwhelming tones and personality. It is a night I will never forget.

It was just over 2 months after the attacks of September 11, 2001. I was knee deep into the role of Sesto for the first time, finding unanticipated and much-needed solace in Handel's tortured youth, and learning volumes about myself as a person. It wasn't one of the easiest periods I've ever passed through, but happily I endured, grew immensely, and started a love affair with this composer. How fitting that my second time through these pristine doors should be in a recital dedicated to his works. (I did perform a recital a few years ago in the "Kleine Zaal", the intimate recital hall next door, which I treasured as an experience, but this is a different animal!)

I'm happy to say that after a rough day yesterday of fighting off a serious throat ailment, I enjoyed the recital tonight tremendously. I have a feeling that I've been fighting this bug off all week - compounded by, or set-off by the terrible travel problems. But my course of homeopathy and REST seems to have done the trick, and tonight's recital found me feeling much better - I find that the breath is the first thing to go when you're under the weather, and tonight I felt it was back, which naturally is a wonderful thing!

The audience overwhelmed me with their generosity, staying with me through the escalating program in rapt attention, and it meant so much to me. This is a program that grows slowly throughout the evening, asking a lot of the public (at least this is my impression - the public may certainly differ!) and an audience's concentration means so much to me - it allows me, or perhaps it invites me, to dig deeper and keep going. That was in abundance tonight, and I give a big "dank u well" to the wonderful Dutch crowd (and Swiss, and Italian...!) I can safely say that this, too, is a night I will not soon forget.



The orchestra really shone tonight, as well, and having the chance for this program to grow over the course of 9 concerts (in 5 countries!) is a gift!

Knowing that this throat "bug" is most likely a strong one, I'm going to grab my rest while I can! Travel day tomorrow to Gay Pareeee, a few interviews, hopefully a nice meal, and then I get to visit Salle Pleyel for the first time - this is fun!

P.S. One reason I'm excited about our President Elect - this quote from a talk show today:

"Thinking about the diversity of our culture and inviting jazz musicians and classical musicians and poetry readings in the White House so that once again we appreciate this incredible tapestry that's America. Historically, what has always brought us through hard times is that national character, that sense of optimism, that willingness to look forward, that sense that better days are ahead. I think that our art and our culture, our science--you know, that's the essence of what makes America special, and we want to project that as much as possible in the White House."

Wow, that feels good!

Room service (Tour: Day 4)

I woke up this morning at 8:00 a.m. to my piercing alarm with that sensation that I had never actually fallen asleep, and that surely I must have set the alarm incorrectly: it simply COULDN'T be morning already, could it? Through the groggy, foggy mist of denial, I double and triple checked my phone and to my dismay, found that it was, in fact, correct. Then I lethargically cycled through 4 rounds of my snooze button, which of course meant my luggage didn't get packed tidily at ALL, but I just didn't care! Sleep was the only thing on my mind.

Dashed out of the hotel, flew to the airport, paid for overweight luggage (what's a diva to do?), and sprinted to the gate ... to wait, promptly, for 2 hours for the delayed aircraft to take its salivating passengers to their destination. But I made it! Amsterdam: it's great to be back!!

I forgot how much I adore this city. It boasts such a unique flavor and brings back a lot of memories for me - some good, some difficult, but now, in the enlightened light of hindsight, all treasured. It was here that I first met Sesto (Handel's young lad, not Mozart's), and officially started my love affair with all-things Handelian. How right it feels for this to be the next stop in my tour.

Due to my late arrival, there really wasn't time to tackle anything too productive, plus the drippy, grey, chilly air outside doesn't invite. So it's catching up with my flu-ridden husband on Skype, reviewing the concert tape from Madrid, and a welcome date with room service: piping hot cheese soup and a perfect little salad. Perfection.

A tiny side note to my Amigos in Spain - if you have a chance to take in the Katya Kabanova at the Teatro Real, DO IT. It's a truly stunning, special, and devastating production by Robert Carson. A real lesson in the power of simplicity - which to my thinking allowed the immense emotion and torrential music to rise to the top.

Hoping to get my camera out tomorrow...in the meantime, room service has arrived! Dank u well!

(Photo taken in 2003 - before I got my "fancy" camera!)

Olè! (Tour: Day 3)

Last night we officially opened the "Furore Tour" in Madrid, and I had a wonderful time. There is something quite wonderful about revisiting a project (or role) that you invested a tremendous amount of time and energy in, put away for a spell, and brought back out. Somehow it's like putting on a familiar, somewhat worn in pair of gloves. Meeting back with the orchestra members, seeing the music with fresh eyes, and having the opportunity to share it with a warm public are all parts of the excitement and pleasure of a concert tour like this.

As I've noted here, I didn't have the most opportune start to my tour. But the show does go on, and frankly, I was thrilled to get through the program as I did, knowing it could have been a lot more difficult! Did I feel 100%? Well, no. But seldom does a singer have a night where every thing works in perfect harmony. But I did give it my all, and enjoyed the interaction with the orchestra and the warm, Madrid public tremendously.

So many people waited to meet me afterwards, to sign their CD's and share some very generous sentiments - and I hope they all know how much that means. I think sometimes people take it for granted that we singers get tired of hearing compliments or receiving gracious "thank you's". (Do YOU get tired of hearing compliments?!?! I didn't think so!) But while I can only speak for myself, I venture to say this couldn't be further from the truth for most performers, especially on a night where we might feel a bit below par, say, for example, from horrible jet lag!! But I never underestimate the fact that someone has saved a lot of money to attend a concert or purchase a disc, or has waited in a cold (!) hallway for 30-45 minutes just to say hello. That's precisely why I do what I do.

Tonight I get to take in Katia Kabanova here in Madrid, and then it's on to Amsterdam. My debut in the Concertgebouw. (MY DEBUT IN THE CONCERTGEBOUW!!! I love being able to say that!!!)

(PS: I'm sorry I don't have a photo to post here, but yesterday was a bit crazy and my focus was 100% on the concert. But now that we're up and running, I'll probably be a bit more inclined to snap a few photos along the way...)

SNAP! (Tour: Day 2)

You simply could not script these kinds of things.

So after an impromptu stop in New York City without my luggage, (with beautiful weather, thank you very much!) I climbed back onto Continental Airlines, and everything looked to be in great shape - that great weather, flights on-time, no frantic passengers or workers! I was home free.

The passengers get settled, the door is closed, we are ready for take-off .... wait a minute. The pilot is speaking. "What is he saying?" "No. Seriously. What is he talking about???"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are all ready to go here on flight 144 to Madrid, but there is just one little hitch that we have to take care of before we can pull away from the gate: the baggage handlers down below in the cargo area have seen a Snapping Turtle which must have escaped during the previous flight on this aircraft, which came in from Florida. They've got to try and catch him before we take off here, and apparently he's proving to be a stubborn little thing. We've called animal control."

An hour later, they apparently got him to safety, and we were on our way.

Really.

I walked off the plane today at 12:00, sat for over an hour in Madrid lunchtime traffic, freshened up in 20 minutes and was off to an interview and a full day of rehearsals. I'm exhausted, but the games have officially begun!

Seriously.

A snapping turtle on the loose.

Priceless.

Finding the Fury (Tour: Day 1)

Admittedly, I've missed the Thanksgiving Feast in the United States the past few years. Even so, I should have known better. Really - I DID know better: you never, EVER travel on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Ever. It's the busiest travel day in the universe. Everyone knows this. I knew this. I'm a good American. I grew up in the Midwest. I knew better.

And yet, somehow, in booking my ticket to Madrid to start the FURORE tour, Sunday the 30th seemed an innocuous date to me. Harmless. Perfect timing, really - I get an extra day at home with my husband and family. One more day of sleeping in my very own, actual bed! Another chance for a homecooked meal, cooked in my own home! I'll arrive in Madrid a full day early to catch my breath, set up shop and get ready to roll! Book it!

I was meant to fly out at 1:30 p.m. from Kansas City, arriving in Newark, NJ at 5:25 p.m. PLENTY of time to catch my 8:30 p.m. flight to Madrid. Olè! 11:00 a.m. I get a trip alert on my computer: flight delayed. We'd leave about an hour late, still leaving PLENTY of time to catch that 8:30 p.m. plane to Madrid. Olè. A half hour later ... they've moved it again back another hour ... etc. And so the games began.

I arrived like a good passenger, checking in on-time. No one had good news or answers, for the weather was not cooperating on the East Coast. (Did Mother Nature not get the memo that I needed to fly to Madrid to sing all my Handel???) The wait began, and it was not pretty. While I think Kansas City International Aiport is the best airport in the world for taking off and landing (you have to walk a total of about 30 feet for baggage claim and/or gates - it's a brilliant design!), it is, and I say this as a proud Kansas Citian, the WORST airport to twiddle your thumbs in. No shopping, no dining options, and no foot traffic, so even the great past time of people watching is kept to a minimum. Having lost my appetite early on, after 4 hours of waiting, I broke down and forced a stale bagel into my empty stomach. The Thanksgiving banquet of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes and apple pie seemed like eons past.

More delays, false starts and unanswered questions, we finally got on board and off the run-way at 8:30 p.m. Arrival in Newark was 12:15 a.m. Yes, 7 hours late. And yes, way past the takeoff of my Madrid flight. I was told I needed to go to Customer Service to obtain vouchers, etc, and taking one look at the line, which surely would have run over 2 hours in wait time, I abandoned everything, hopped in a cab and high-tailed it to the Upper West Side to meet my husband, who had departed KC 3 hours after me and arrived safely in NY 3 hours earlier. (Different airline/airport for him, lucky guy!) So that was the silver lining - a chance meeting in NYC with my husband, who I had said goodbye to 12 hours earlier!

What this means is that I start this crazy tour a whole day off, which may not sound like much, but it's everything for a singer - it means one less day to adjust to the jet lag, a missed press luncheon (organized with blood, sweat and tears by the magnificent Teatro Real staff!), a bit of extra stress which never helps, and I have to march off the plane and walk right into 6 hours of rehearsal, no chance to rest up and gather my forces - which would have happened had I actually had the precious, glorious, coveted 24 hours I was meant to have.

BUT there is no sense in crying over spilt milk, as we say! I will choose to see all the positives - it will surely give me an extra boost of adrenalin, and it will put me in the mood of heightened emotion and yes, with an extra dash of FURY thrown in for good measure!!!

My only worry is that I am still recovering from a stubborn cold that I picked up at the end of my time in Houston, and I know it would be better to have a full day's rest going into this exciting tour. But again, I'm loading up on my vitamins, eating bowls of steaming soup, and truth be told, I don't mind facing a big challenge every now and then. I'm thrilled to be getting back full-steam into this music, revisiting these characters that I found such a passion for, and bringing it to some of my very favorite cities in the world.

I'll do my best to chronicle my tour here - with hopes that at least the travel end of things will shape up a bit better, but most importantly that we'll present concerts that touch people, perhaps make them think or feel, and at the very least, give them the opportunity to revel in all those little black notes Handel scribbled down nearly 250 years ago. (You see, that NEVER ceases to astonish me: those notes have been "dead" on the paper ever since he blotted them out by candlelight, and yet each time a singer exhales through them, they come to life again for all those who listen! I LOVE being connected in that way - not only to Handel himself, but to all the singers who have sung these challenging phrases over the years - and certainly with all those that will continue to sing them!)

Seems as though my flight is actually ready to board - if it gets off the ground, then I'm officially on my way! See you on the road!