Busy, Busy, Busy
School has been driving me nuts. It’s only week, what? Three? And I’ve been running around like a decapitated chicken. I’m up to six songs for my voice lessons this semester – minimum requirement for a second semester student: six. I am working on memorizing the four-song cycle Blue Mountain Ballads by Paul Bowles, I have the de Luca song in Italian down pat and am struggling through the two Handel as per usual.
Baroque music is hard, in case you didn’t know. For a look at the second song I am working on, look here:
The soprano doing it is fantastic and I’m a little jealous. Ah well, someday!
As she ought to, Dr. D’s coming down hard on my bad habits. I have several years of bad singing habits deeply ingrained into both brain and muscle memory, cemented by two voice teachers. I was taught by a tenor for a while, which apparently was the worst idea ever because the way their voices and bodies work to produce sound are so vastly different from all voice types that having them teach is just bad all around. A lot of it is breath management and breathing, with which I can legitimately argue that it’s not going to improve until I move somewhere where I won’t be exposed to allergens 100% of the time. More importantly, though, is convincing my brain that no, I am not, in fact, a heavy voice type, therefore I have absolutely no reason to be pushing as hard as I do.
Out, not in. And turning off my brain for half of what I am doing would also be brilliant because I tend to overthink what I do. As Dr. D says, I work too hard and being a lyric soprano I should not be working hard at all because it’s equivalent to erecting giant barriers to work around. It can also damage the vocal cords in the long run; I’ve had a few close calls before and have no interest in repeating that experience or winding up like either Karita Mattila or Natalie Dessay, who both required surgery to reverse the damage done.
I’m also struggling a lot with piano; I am simply not very good at it and I’m absolutely terrified I won’t do well in this class, thereby ruining my GPA and dashing all hopes of transferring wherever I want to. I haven’t had the chance to talk to Dr. D about transferring and recommendations and such yet because she’s been just as ridiculously busy as ever, but I have an appointment with a guidance counselor for next Tuesday. Here’s hoping it’ll go well.
SUCCESS!
I would not say it went perfectly, but overall, the concert was fabulous. I invited my cousin – who, as I found out, lives and works in D.C. and has done so for the last five years – to come out and listen. He seemed impressed. It turns out I had a nice little support group, but I feel it’s weird to receive compliments for the performance. I feel like I was only a tiny, tiny cog in the machine that made this happened and can’t accept praise for the entity as a whole.
I am a little sad we did not get to hear the piano concerto; it appears that, too, went well. Instead, I sat in the rehearsal hall with about fifty other people and chatted for a bit until we were allowed to wander to the Performing Arts Center. I am still trying to figure out which YouTube Channel this whole thing is on because they will apparently be put up at some point.
More importantly, it turns out we – my aunt and I – know the production manager, which means I may be able to get a DVD out of the whole business. My family will certainly be pleased with this news. There will be no pictures of tired Dani in choral garb, as I am now off to bed because I have voice lessons at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.
Good night!
People Got A Lotta Nerve
No words needed, I think. This is for all those idiots who think snuggling with various wild animals is a good idea.
Pathetic
There is nothing, absolutely nothing, like a whiny college student discovering their major is pretty dead-end. Case in point: moi.
I love music. I love my major. I love singing. So why am I unhappy?
A lot of it has to do with the fact that sopranos are a dime a dozen. I am averagely talented at best. I sound horrific to myself. My voice is far from spectacular. And to top it all off, I am not some exotic-looking beauty, but just your average white girl who passes for cute on good days. I just have no idea how I will ever find a job doing what I want to do, which is singing. On one hand, every untalented fucking hack is successful with a good marketing team – for proof, just look at the majority of what you hear on the radio these days. Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, the list goes on. Why should it be any harder for me?
I’m working with an entirely different scene. I sincerely doubt half-talented idiots like myself have a good chance in the classical music community. In other words, I am hosed and destined to sign up for the Army Chorale so at least I won’t live on the streets. It’s not what I want. I’ll try and work for something better, but right now I can’t see further than the end of my nose and with the jury date looming ahead. I’ve been working on these fucking songs for twelve weeks. Why can’t I just have them down and perfected yet?
Don’t mind me. I’m just being a spoiled asshole.
Depeche Mode
I remember watching this while it was broadcasted, live, in the summer of 06. It was beautiful, brilliant and awe-inspiring. The video is horribly out of sync, but who cares!
I feel like a bad fan for not realizing they had a new album, Sounds of the Universe (released this month). But the following factoid made me smile! They have a song called “Jezebel” on said album.
Honors
My aunt and I went to the Honors’ Recital at my school’s music department on Friday. It kind of raises the question – what qualifies you as an honors’ student? Being at the school for a certain amount of time? All I know is that I was pretty disappointed in a few people who did perform. The instrumentalists did fine, but the three singers were kind of . . . meh.
The sad thing is that I knew two of them were much better than they presented themselves as on Friday. I’ve heard them practice. They were much better in the practice room than they were on stage. I realize nervousness plays a large role in performance, but seriously? It was lackluster.
Sigh.
The Life and Times 