Workshop

“The little things? The little moments? They aren’t little.” - Jon Kabat-Zinn

One of my favorite things about living where we live is the relatively low cost of living. Our home is beautiful and at this point, Zheng and I are each able to have amply-sized offices. 

I’m a recovered clutter-bug, but now with digital technology and the ability to store things via cloud or scan (or however), it has helped me stay much more organized, and as a result, much less mental clutter or chatter. 

I re-organized my home office back in late February, and I feel like it’s one of the most important reasons that we’re in the thick of a very busy “season” (concerts, projects, life, taxes, etc) but that I’m still feeling some semblance of sanity.

Here is a photo of an in-process “arrangement,” one which will be performed with the New Mexico Philharmonic, my beloved UNM Chamber Singers, and my husband’s combined middle school student orchestras! You can read more about that concert here.  

Fait accompli!

Remember the post in which I discussed Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas? 

Well, the production is finished! I survived tech week amidst hosting a high-profile and beloved guest. I am so happy that the project came together as well as it did. I learned a few things during this process:

1). Give concrete and specific notes. This is a general idea that can be gleaned from years of elite training at Oberlin, Westminster Choir College, Tanglewood, Curtis, Merola, and Eastman. 

2). Be realistic about how much you are asking. Yes, aim high. Yes, have big goals. And yes, have concrete, daily steps or instructions which you can impart to your cast, crew, musicians, and partners. 

3). Focus first on what has improved. I noticed that these directives will get better results faster. The corrections were also able to be implemented in a context of something that worked. 

4). Lots of things will fix themselves. Trust your delegation, your colleagues, and your concept (if you’ve been clear about it from the beginning). 

5). Appreciate the small “errors” with grace and a sense of humor. A prop malfunction which happened during Friday night’s performance still brings a smile to my face. The performance continued and the actors “made it work” during the moment. 

The above things are things I need to remember during projects or other creative processes.

PHOTOS: Taken with my phone - they are of the rehearsal footage.  

Floored

Hello, everyone!

There is much to tell about the adventures in Eastern Europe from this past weekend. I return to the United States in nine days, and I am well aware of the need to "savor" the time here. It will be over fairly quickly. 

I had the pleasure of co-creating, co-teaching and co-moving (I don't think the third is a word) with our wonderful movement teacher, Sandor. (This is the teacher who said the memorable quote, which you can read here:   http://songsoftravelditlow.blogspot.hu/2013/07/exchange-of-vowels.html).

Sandor came to my Hungarian Song course on Friday. He offered some advice to the vocalist "in the hot seat" at the time. He had her follow the contour of the melodic line with the movements of her arm, using curved lines and shapes. 

Younger singers especially have a tendency to lock their arms and hands, showing the audience exactly where things get musically or technically difficult. (Pianists show with our shoulders or face). Her singing was changed once she started moving more freely! I was amazed that a teacher so young could help someone so naturally! I have already stolen and implemented this teaching tool. 

He also asked her to cling to the wall at all times - that she would just move with the music and always have contact. That same "contact point" is something that the wonderful Eastman viola professor, Carol Rodland, spoke about often in her courses. 

After the vocalist left, Sandor and I continued to talk about the freedom of movement that dancers need. Musicians need the same thing, actually, but we spend a good bit of effort getting "out" of our body instead of getting "into" it! 

I found him to be incredibly kinesthetically and personally gifted. He is very good about discussing "boundaries" with artists. Can your leg move that way? How much do you think about breath? How can we fill space, or cross it? I was "floored" by his creativity and open-mindedness about exploring new ideas. He has clearly trained classically but is also working on a new theory and method for teaching movement, dance, and choreography. I hope to work with him in the future! (I had an idea to do "Quartet for the End of Time" here, with him doing the movements).

We are grateful you were here with us this week!

I took his dance class on Friday and Saturday. It made me realize how much I miss dancing (I studied ballet, tap, and jazz as a kid) and how much we ALL need to be doing this! 

PHOTO: One of the class days where we were exploring how to use space. 

Scope

Scope

It is hard to believe that we are in our third week here at CoOPERAtive (thecooperativeprogram.org). For those of you reading today, please be sure to check out the final masterclass with Laura Ward (director of LyricFest, Philadelphia).

I am continually amazed by the energy and sponge-like appetites of *all* of the young artists here. It gives me a lot of hope for the industry, actually. I have seen bright-eyed students for three weeks walk into countless studios, ready to learn, immediately ready to implement, and ready to internalize and make something their own.

"The scope of the imagination" is one of my favorite quotes from one of my all-time favorite childhood authors and books, L.M. Montgomery, in "Anne of Green Gables." Anne Shirley has a wild, vivid, imagination. One that gets her into trouble, more often than not. It is these kids, in elementary school, who share a similar fate to Anne, but not to worry. We are destined to give back to the world images of beauty, revelation, and unique observation.

I have also been thinking about a balance of practice vs. experience. Both are necessary for life, for a great balance, and for great artistry. What I used to be so obsessed with (amount of time in a practice room, searching for perfect technique, or a whole host of other things) has been replaced with a desire for something even more holistic (but still inclusive of the things mentioned above).

I've been asking the same thing of the students I've been working with.

I asked a baritone the other day, in the aria of Dandini (Rossini: La Cenerentola) to actively tell me what all of the "melismas" mean in his aria. Which flourishes are on his costume? The architecture of the castle of his boss, Prince Ramiro? Which are directed to which character? I realize this process takes the following steps before getting here:

Learning the text, inside and out, in both Italiano and English (or his native tongue)
Learning all of the notes
Learning how to sing all of the notes
Learning the accompaniment well enough to play a "continuo reduction"
What does it all mean?

I believe that if all of this work is done, in this order, with the highest level of integrity, success will be inevitable. It does take "scope of the imagination" to imagine this all. Especially at the transition of student to professional.

The picture attached is from my travels in Germany last summer. It is a mountain range, near Dresden, immediately next to the Elbe river. This is what I imagine during the "Giants" music in Wagner's "Ring Cycle"

Imagination

I've been thinking a lot about imagination these days. And how it might be one of the most important things for an artist to have, if not THE most important. Yes, we need technique, and yes, we need to practice, and sacrifice, and pay attention to detail. We need to hit our marks.

But what we need to do even more than that is to make ________ (ourselves, our partners, the audience) imagine that something was different. That a foreign world is delivered to them, or that they are watching-listening to the ecstatic nature of love.

We need to be able to make anything levitate. J.K. Rowling gave a terrific commencement address at Harvard on this very topic.

Photo: from the contemporary gallery at the Corning Museum of Glass