Mr. F

We had a run of Acts I and II today, and I am encouraged.  Sometimes getting the traffic patterns and skeleton of a piece put together can be so clinical and non-artistic that you feel like little chess pieces being pushed around for no reason whatsoever.  Getting the chance to run big sections not only lets you understand the flow of the piece, but gives you an opportunity to just listen and respond to your scene partners.  That happened today.  I felt like I was just talking to my compatriots, and that ain't a bad thing.  With such little time to get an opera like this on its feet, it was a relief to have a decent run. At least we have a toehold now. 

I have been playing Mr. F for nearly three months now (and boy are my arms tired! rim shot).  My characterization has definitely evolved, but that could simply be the uniqueness of each production dictating nuances to the character.  I have to say, though, it is nice to really get to know Mr. F over this long period of time, and know that each time I play him I will find something new for my bag of tricks (aka: steal stuff for future productions).  Or it could be that I've been watching old Three's Company episodes on dvd and have been shamelessly copying John Ritter (at least in my mind).  

I'm not usually a huge astrology guy, but I read mine in the weekly C'Ville paper the other day and I wanted to share it, as it is entirely appropriate and awesome:

Nietzsche's dictum might be useful for you to keep in mind right now Leo: "If it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger."  Since I'm very sure that the turbulent waters through which you're navigating will not kill you, I'm looking forward to all the ways this journey will upgrade your confidence and enhance your power.  But there's more to be gained, beyond what Nietzsche formulated.  It's also true that if it doesn't kill you (which it won't), it will make you wilder and kinder and smarter and more beautiful. 

I sure hope so.  

Michael Kaiser, president oh the Kennedy Center, recently wrote a fantastic article in The Huffington Post entitled Arts in Crisis.  It's about how arts organizations need to stick to their guns artistically if they want to remain successful through this economic nightmare.  I found it posted on ArtsySchmartsy's blog and thought it was really timely, considering all that's going on with the Skylight right now (PS- it felt good de-friend Skylight on Facebook.  Am I a bad person?)

AW

You may choose a ready guide in some celestial voice

Well, I'm going on a week here in Charlottesville, and I've made nary a comment about it in the blogosphere.  We finally have our full cast contingent (better late than never I guess, eh?), and have staged many key scenes.  Just getting started is the hardest thing I think- the first scene always is tricky.  We're all still finding our sea legs and getting to know each other, and have to jump in the deep end.   

We have another great group of people here, and I look forward to the work.  Anyone who has worked here knows the inherent challenges involved with doing so.  I don't want this blog to become a forum for those challenges per se, so I will keep them to a mimimum....I'm being cryptic aren't I?  I'll tell you all about it after a beer sometime.  

My last entry got tons of comments- thanks for reading!  One of them hit the mark so well I'd like to repeat it here (hope that's ok!!!! I'll leave it anonymous for now):

After years of reading reviews not only of my productions but other operas, plays, and art exhibitions I've come to the conclusion that there is nothing so wonderful that someone in the world won't hate it and there is nothing so horrible that someone in the world won't love it.  That's why I think it is important to trust your own instincts, do your very best, always be true to yourself, and respect your colleagues, the author/composer, and the audience.

I concur.  Well said my friend.  This is the ideal we should all live by.  It's still hard to not get rattled by a bad review, though.  Human Nature I guess.  When you're dealing with something so personal as your art (especially when your instrument is located inside your body), it's hard not to take each criticism personally.  

I have been posting links to stories about the firing of Bill Theisen at Skylight Opera for the last few weeks.   I just found out last night that Bill is going to direct most of the season next year (including my final two Figaros....Figari?), and I have to say, I am quite relieved.  I have been thinking about this whole situation for weeks now, and it is hard to know what the right thing to do is.  I don't agree with the decision that the Board and Mr. Dillner have made, and I have made my opinion known, publicly and privately.  But what do I do?  Do I withdraw from the 09-10 season as a show of support for Bill?  If I do withdraw to make a statement, what statement am I actually making?  Is it the right statement?  Furthermore, If I withdraw, The Skylight has two months to find another baritone who is willing to sing Barber who has no stake in the recent goings-on at the Skylight (and no doubt there are plenty).  Is it a stronger statement to honor my contract?  Dedicate my performance to the now-defunct positions of Artistic Director and Company Manager?  As a singer who has had contracts dissolve a month before rehearsals were to begin (Hello? Opera Pacific?), is it in bad form to drop a contract so close to the start date? If I quit in protest, what is it that I'm protesting? The firing of Bill or the elimination of the Artistic Director and Company Manager positions?  Or both?

These are the questions I've been asking myself.  I was leaning toward honoring my contract anyway because, selfishly, when will I ever get the chance to sing Figaro in Barber and Nozze at the same company in the course of one season?  I thank Bill for making the decision for me- if he's directing, I'm there.  no questions asked.  It's still going to be weird though.  

For the present, though, it's putting another marriage together in Seville.  I don't have a car here in Virginia, so I'm fairly confident I will sweat enough to fit into my costume (even after eating the amazing dumplings at Marco & Luca).  It's a great town and a great cast.  Completely different than last time, and that's a good thing.  There is no point trying to re-create what I had last time.  This is a different cast, a different concept, a different set, different costumes (I gushed about the last costume I had, and automatically thought this one wouldn't be as good- WRONG!), and, I guess what I'm trying to say is, a different feel.  I would be short-changing this production if I gave a performance from a past one.  Does that make sense?  I feel what I'm trying to say can best be summed up with a line from Goonies: "Its their time.  Their time! Up there.  Down here, it's our time.  Our time down here."

Peace and bacon grease.

AW

Virginia is for lovers

Ok, I guess I lied.  No rehearsal today.  Just a costume fitting.  I heard we are supposed to start rehearsals tomorrow, but as of yet I have seen no schedule.  Hey man, I just work here.  If you need me, I'll be enjoying the cheese plate at C and O.  

On the flight here, I realized that I have to come to terms with something:  I love the music of my youth.  That is to say, 80's hair metal.  I think I just need to embrace it and not apologize for it.  The rock writer and Fargoan Chuck Klosterman (author of Fargo Rock City- my brother thinks I should be the Chuck Klosterman of opera) says that writing about 80's metal is better than listening to 80's metal.  I am here to disagree with you Chuck.  (ok, he was talking specifically about Mötley Crüe, so maybe I'll grant him that).  

On my flight, I listened to "Hair Nation" on the in-flight Sirius radio.  I've mentioned before how I'm often irritated on travel days and try not to make any calls or emails that I will regret later.  "Hair Nation" turned my day around.  Not only did I forget how much I enjoy this music, but I forgot how much knowledge I have of the bands.  For instance, "Hysteria" by Def Leppard came on, and I immediately named off the members in my head: Joe Elliot (megamullet), Rick Savage (Aqua Net), Phil Collen (not the pop singer), Rick Allen (one arm), and Steve Clark (dead).  Steve was replaced by Vivian Campbell, who played rhythm guitar on Whitesnake's eponymous album in the mid 80's (the lead guitarist was Adrian Vandenberg - yes, Whitesnake had two guitarists with girls' names at one point).  I also enjoyed some Poison, Kix, King's X, Y & T, Krokus, Ozzy, and Kiss. Thank you Hair Nation.  You made one less weary traveler...."cuz I know what it means, to walk along the lonely street of dreams! Here I go again on my own!!!"  

My point is this....Ok, I don't know what my point is.  All I know is that I never took the time to memorize these guys' names, or the names of the songs, or the album titles.  It's just all there.  Some people remember baseball stats, some people are opera nuts (It would probably help my career if I was one of those), and some people can track the entire lineup history of Kiss and its subsidiaries including, but not limited to, Frehley's Comet, Vinnie Vincent Invasion, and Slaughter.  I've made my peace with my love of this genre.  That's why I bought the new Chickenfoot cd today.  Joe Satriani, anyone?  Come on!!!

I'm having a delightful time in Charlottesville so far. I've done exactly 8 minutes of singing for the company so far, at a donor concert the other night.  My host and her gentleman friend are wonderful, thoughtful people and I have enjoyed some great conversations with them already. It is commonplace for Joseph Campbell, Benjamin Britten, and Sartre to pop up in conversation.  It is a great place to be.  I'm reminded of the famous quote, "It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt."  

More madness to follow.

AW

Coffee & Cuts in Coach

I'm about to board my flight to DC, en route to Charlottesville, VA for my third Figaro in as many months. As I sit here looking over the latest version of cuts (of which there are many- this could qualify as diet Figaro), I am both sad (sad to go back to English after doing it in the original Italian) and excited (new company, new cast, new maestro). I have a few old friends from grad school in the cast, and I'm really looking forward to that. I'm also looking forward to reconnecting with some old friends and colleagues who are already at Ashlawn working on 'Camelot.'.

I plan on doing a post-mortem on the Green Mountain Figaro, but I will save that for when I have more time and don't have to type it with my thumbs on my phone (my NEW phone- my old one, after a Lazarus-like return from the dead, reverted back to a lifeless pile of silicone and plastic).

My time at home, although much too brief, was magical. There are few things as fulfilling as having a family (not even singing Mozart!), and I will hold this past week in my heart as I travel to Virginia.
Last night Rikki and I cut out a map of Virginia and pasted a picture of me singing on it, right over Charlottesville. Not that Nikki will understand where I am exactly, but now when she asks where I am, her mommy can point to the map and say that I'm singing in Virginia. Plus, she can give me a night-night kiss too.

But I digest...For now, it's DC (via Milwaukee- I'll wave, friends) where my new Susanna has very graciously offered to pick me up, and then the charming Charlottesville. Here's to the new production, safe travels, and good times.

Cheers!

AW