Sitzproben und Geleegehirne

We had our Sitz yesterday at the historic Round Barn.  It was great to finally be with the orchestra- they are really good players, and our Maestro really commands this piece in a wonderful way.  It's great to work with a conductor who is so easy to read- tempi, articulation, phrasing are all communicated beautifully in his stick technique.  It was a good rehearsal.  I generally felt pretty good about my singing.  I felt like I sang it well, was able to deliver the text the way I wanted to, and it didn't cost me a lot vocally (at least compared to the last time I did it).  There are still a few funny moments- like a stupid D natural on an open E vowel- that trip me up  here and there.  I think it's still the whole middle voice thing coming back to haunt me.  Having said that, it all feels a lot easier to sing and it makes me happy.  It's such a physical role, and it's amazing how much easier it is to sing when you're note running around the stage, sharpening a sword, shaving Cherubino, moving furniture, etc.  It was nice to get a chance to remind myself how I want to sing this music as we move onto stage and deal with all kinds of other issues.  

...Which brings me to our piano tech.  All things considered, it was a pretty smooth and painless tech.  When I am in tech, I get into some weird zone.  I just want to get through it with as little mess as possible (don't we all?), and I think some people think I'm pissed off (last night a few people asked me if I was ok because of the concerned look on my face.  I was just trying to assimilate into our new surroundings).  About halfway through the rehearsal, my brain turned to jelly, and I started to get a little slap-happy.  This is pretty normal for a tech, and especially after we had sung a sitz already, it was no big deal. Then Act IV rolls around, and my brain is completely off.  In my recit with Barbarina, I was supposed to say "avea gusto d'udir come il padrone ti die la commissione," and I said, "avea gusto doo deer la commissione tee dah doo blah blah blah blah...."  Poor Barabarina looked at me like, "What the @#$% was that?" I just said, "I'm sorry.  I have no idea what my line is."    That set the tone for the whole act.  And then I told Susanna that I was full of burning sky (ho pieno il ciel di foco).  Ah, well.  That's what techs are for, right?  On the bright side,  it's a beautiful little theatre, and the set looks great.  I think we'll have some fun this week.  

AW

PS- I had lots of great suggestions as to what to call myself as a Mythical Creature.  I really liked Baritonius (thank you Koch), but I think the winner has got to be bass-peryton, which would be a creature combining the characteristics of a stag and a bird, and a lower-voiced male.  I'm assuming that would also include a mane of freshly coiffed hair and vast knowledge of beer.  Hailing from the lost continent of Atlantis, this large winged creature casts the shadow of a man. 

 

Tutto è tranquillo e placido

We had our final rehearsal room run-through last night.  After a short notes session this morning, we have the rest of the day and tomorrow off.  It's good we're getting a little break.  It's sort of the calm before the storm, because starting Monday we're going to have some late nights.  The opera house is located in a town called Barre (pronounced "Barry") about 45 minutes away.  There's a sitz + tech on Monday, and orchestra dresses Tues and Wed.  So it's good we will start the week rested (actually, we will probably take this time off to stay up way too late, drink too much beer and play too much pool. At least I know I will.  Hey, it's science).

I think we are in good shape with the show.  It is a total joy to sing this piece with such a seasoned group of colleagues.  I feel like I'm in a pretty decent place vocally as well- better off than last time.  We'll see once we get in the actual house with the orchestra, but I think I've made a few adjustments that will allow me to sing this role at less cost than last time.  The challenge I'm encountering is that I have the sensation of less local control when I sing.  That's tricky to get used to.  It's much less micro-managerial (and probably more rewarding to the listener) and also much easier, but when you're used to controlling and manipulating to a certain degree, it's tough to let go.  There are a few coordination issues.  The role lives so much in the middle voice, that suddenly an E flat is a high note (at least in the grand scheme of things), and feels like what an F would feel like in a more baritonal tessitura.  So that's weird.  The plus side is that I'm not darkening the lower middle anymore, so it's about a zillion times easier to sing down there and I don't get super tired halfway through the piece.  Plus, the Dalai Lama told me that when I die, on my deathbed, I will receive total consciousness.  So I got that going for me, which is nice. 

I've also noticed that I'm a tremendous slouch.  Even while wearing my rehearsal shoes (they are really cool period shoes with a chunky heel), I stand like I'm a standing-in-front-of-the-QuickStop-slacker, and not an 18th century valet to a Count.  I'm looking forward to being in costume and the inevitable change in character and posture that will take place.  I'm pretty confident all the earthy, goofy, stupid Ritter-esque crap I am doing will still come through, but it will be filtered through a period costume and stance.  

Yesterday, I gave a short little interview for a local video arts blog.  I'll post it as soon as it is available.  She asked me what did I think Mozart would think of us if he stopped by rehearsal.  The first thing that came to mind was, "well, he would probably say, 'holy crap! what are all those shiny metal boxes careening down the street at an alarming rate?'" That's the kind of highly articulate commentary I bring to the industry.  She also said that one of the local Vermonters (Vermont-ites? Vermont-ians?) said that he thought opera singers are like mythical creatures.  That we are seemingly normal beings, but then unleash these big crazy voices on everyone.  I like that.  Andrew Wilkowske, mythical creature.  It may have to go on my resume.  Hey, it's better than the whole baritone/bass-baritone conundrum.  

AW

A novice blogger's manifesto, or Welcome to my brain.com

Well, here we are.  I sort of have mixed feelings about blogs.  I mean, it sort of presupposes that anyone cares about what I have to say.  I've never blogged - I have rarely even kept a journal.  But I sort of have a unique opportunity here that seemed too good to let slip by.  You see, over the next 11 months (from April '09 to February '10), I will be playing the role of Figaro - the factotum, the big fig, everyone's favorite barber!  I am playing the razor-wielding and razor-witted Figaro in 4 productions of Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro and 1 production of Rossini's The Barber of Seville.  This character will take me to Louisiana, Vermont, Virginia, and Milwaukee (twice).  Some productions will be in Italian, some in English, and all will be fully staged with orchestra and all the trimmings.  

I thought this might be a good time to try my hand at a blog because, for no other reason, I might like to look someday and remember what my Figarofest was like, and, like I said, I don't want this experience to just slip by.  Hey Bill Shakespeare, why not just write it down in a journal, you ask?  Well, that's a good question.  I don't know.  Am I a closet exhibitionist?  I don't think so.  I just like the idea of sharing this experience with other singers, friends, or the random passer-by...I don't know, jeez, do I need a reason to start a blog?  Yoda has a blog, for pete's sake!

I've sung Mozart's Figaro before, but this will be my first time tackling the famous Rossini opera and the infamous "Largo al factotum" on stage.  It is somewhat daunting to think about spending most of a year with one character.  Will it be monotonous? Will it be thrilling?  Yes.  Yes.  I don't know.  All I can do is be open to the experience and enjoy the ride.  The Marriage of Figaro is my favorite opera, so I really can't imagine a better predicament to be in.  

Here is what I want to accomplish.  I am going to write about my experiences telling the story of Figaro, including the challenges (of which there will be many), the benefits (of which there will be even more), and how my thoughts about Figaro evolve and are enriched over the course of a year.  A year of Figaro.  I'm going to try to stick to my experiences only - I'm not going to use this blog as a forum for venting or airing out dirty laundry.  I'm going to try to be honest and candid - if I'm not, why even bother with a blog at all?  And most of all, I'm going to try to actually make regular blog entries!!!! As I said, I'm not practiced in the art of journaling.  

So, welcome.  I'll end with a quote from Mr. Mozart himself:

"To talk well and eloquently is a very great art, but an equally great one is to know when to stop."

So I will.

Oh, and I lied about not having blogged before.  I kept one for a few weeks in 2006 under the moniker JackHanSolo (don't ask!) and had a readership of one.  If you can find it, enjoy.  It's pretty silly.  

AW