The Figaro overture: not just a timer for cooking an egg!

We opened last night at the Barre Opera House to what had to have been the most incredible audience ever.  I want to take them with me for every performance I do.  They laughed at every joke, they were energetic, they were with us the whole show.  The quality of the supertitles definitely ups the yuk-yuk factor, but I think that this group of people genuinely were into what we were doing on the stage (not just reading about it!).  That makes such a difference for us!  I wonder if the audience had any inkling that they directly contributed to the quality of the performance with all the energy they gave us.  I guess that would assume that the audience had some sort of collective consciousness, and, well, that's a conversation for a different blog.  I'll just say that it a gratifying experience to be re-introduced to a piece through the eyes of a fresh and engaging audience.  It reminds you of the genius of the piece- that there is a reason it is still being performed after all these years.  In Nozze's case, the overwhelming humanity of the opera is what lasts.  

I was so grateful for Mr. Mozart last night.  My faith in humanity has been on the low side this week. 

First, there is the saga of my phone.  Last Sunday, on my day off, I went to Burlington with some friends for the day.  When I got back, I could not find my phone.  I checked the car, checked my bag, my room, tore the whole inn apart, tore the car apart, and found nothing.  Cut to 24 hours later: i have driven 2 hours round trip up and down a mountain to the Barre Opera House in the pouring down rain. I asked a friend to help me search the car again, and as I walked outside, I saw my phone sitting on the roof of my car.  Where it had been for 24 hours.  In the rain.  On a moving car.  

It was soaking wet, of course, so I took it apart and set it out to dry for a few days.  Much to my surprise, it started right up.  I was in utter shock and disbelief.  This is a miracle phone, right?  Unfortunately, the next day the 'p' button and the speaker phone button stopped working, and the day after that, all the buttons stopped working.  So I basically have a high-tech hockey puck.  Whatever- I have insurance on the phone, so no biggie, just incredibly annoying.  Mostly it just made my angry with myself.  

Next, I have had the worst week in customer service that I have ever had in my life, and have found myself yelling at lots of people over the phone, making demands and threats.  That's not my preferred modus operandi, and I have found it most unpleasant.  

Lastly, and most importantly, this business in Milwaukee has really been hard to deal with this week.  It's great that we have the technology to be connected across great distances, and it has enabled me to feel somewhat present, but it has also filled me with helplessness, watching my friends and colleagues go through this painful journey while I can only read about it on Facebook and the blogosphere.  I love the Skylight so much, and this whole situation has been weighing heavy on my mind and my heart.  I mean, I'm slated to spend three months of my life there in the next year, and I don't know what company I'm going to be working for.  It's like you went away to college and when you come back for Christmas your Mom and Dad have split up, Mom is dating some graphic designer named Kip, your brother is in jail and your room has been rented out.  Oh yeah, and your house is on fire too.  

Anyway, I'm sure I'll have more to say about that later, but what I'm getting at is this:  This stupid little job I have is a wonderful gift.  When I got into costume last night, I left my dressing room and walked the stage.  When the overture started, something strange happened: a smile formed on my lips and my heart lightened.  The anger, frustration, and sadness that was in my heart was replaced with this overwhelming sense of gratitude that I get to sing this opera with these people for this company at this time.  For three hours, I can be someone else.  Someone who can instantly cook up a solution to the snags he gets into.  Someone who sings amazing music.  Someone who is awesome. It was nice to be slapped in the face with a reminder of what a gift this whole dang thing is.  And I accepted the gift last night.  And I pictured my friend Jamie in the audience with his ridiculous ponytail laughing at all my stupid jokes.  

We have one more shot tomorrow afternoon, then I'm coming home to my girls.  

AW

PS- have you noticed the "currently drinking" sidebar on my blog homepage?  Thanks for the idea Mazer.

It's the day of the show, y'all....

Tonight's the big night.  We are opening Nozze tonight at the Barre Opera House in Barre, Vermont with the Green Mountain Opera Festival.  

It has been a fun journey putting this together, and I look forward to telling this story this weekend.  The action takes place over the course of one day, but it is a lot of life to live in three hours.  

So who is this guy Figaro?  What does he want? Does he get it? These are questions I ask every time I start rehearsing a new production, and I ask them again as we put it together, and yet again when I am putting on my costume.  I'm not sure I know the answers completely (I mean how could I? Do any of us really know that info about ourselves? Maybe you do.  I don't).  What I do know is that the Big Fig spends an awful lot of the opera just trying to get married.  In every appearance up to the wedding scene he unveils a new scheme to accomplish this goal.  He is madly in love with Susanna.  He has to be, right?  She is the only one in the opera who is smarter than he is, and she is his partner in every way.  I feel like the conflict he faces in the opera is reconciling the two sides of his nature; the one that loves and cares for Susanna unequivocally (the sensitive-new-age Figaro), and the hot-headed guy who sees deception everywhere, even in his bride-to-be (frat boy Figaro?).  The former side is an alternative to the Count, and the latter is his doppelgänger.  I think in a lot of ways this opera (at least for Fig) is about his evolution and self-realization;  when he puts his doubts aside and unequivocally accepts Susanna as his partner, he becomes ready to be her husband, and he is redeemed by her love.  The virtue of forgiveness and the redemption of the men in this opera by the women in this opera is an overarching theme.  I think it eclipses the class conflict theme (more dominant in the play) by about a zillion percent.  

In acting class you talk about where your character's center is- their head, heart, lower, etc. I picture Figaro's center is in Susanna, and the opera is about how he finds his center.

And the music is pretty good too.  But I digest....

This has been a very gratifying experience as an artist.  I didn't expect this tiny, tucked-away company in the middle of Vermont to be such a rich environment, with the kind of artistic give and take that at once energizes and recharges our spirits.  I guess that's high-falutin' blogspeak for awesomeness.  Hats off to the artistic director Taras Kulish, our director Ellen Schlaefer, the Maestro Jacques LaCombe, and the intensely talented cast and crew.  

My heart is in Milwaukee this morning celebrating 50 years of the Skylight.  Let's hope it has 50 more.  

AW

Our final dress was last night.  We had a small student audience, which was nice.  It's great to get some energy back from the audience (especially when I'm singing directly to them during my act IV aria).  I think we are in good shape.  This has been a really special experience for me, and I am full of gratitude for this cast, this company, this production.  I'm looking forward to making some good music and some good komedy laughs this weekend.  On the technical tip, I felt much better about last night than our first orchestra dress.  I've come to realize (and embrace) the fact that I'm just plain tired in Act IV and Aprite is a damn hard aria to sing.  I will keep fighting the good fight, but I'm going to stop obsessing about it and just enjoy it.  I've learned a few things during this process, and that's a good thing.  More on that later. 

Here is a fun video about our production from a local arts blog.  This is where I first heard the "opera singers as mythical creatures" idea.  Also, my friend Adriana invokes the great Jack Tripper (reinforcing my "what would John Ritter do?" character-building technique).  

PS- I look like Chris Farley.  Time to go back to the gym I guess.  Or maybe lay off the Vermont maple syrup.  

The media firestorm in Milwaukee continues over the firing of Bill Theisen.  There is some intelligent discourse happening here:

Artsy Schmartsy

Tom Strini's blog

I'm proud of my friends in Milwaukee who are taking ownership of their theatre community and making their voices heard, especially Jamie Johns.  The Skylight has been an artistic home for me for the last 10 years, and they have always welcomed me into the fold as though I were a local artist.  I sincerely hope they can work through this debacle.  

AW

Un scandolo, un disordine....

After our orchestra dress last night, I tuned into Facebook to learn some depressing news.  The Artistic Director of Skylight, the stage director of two of my Year-of-Figaro productions, and my friend, Bill Theisen was suddenly ousted from the Skylight Opera.  Details are sketchy right now, but this is a potentially self-destructive  and definitely short-sighted move by the Skylight board and managing director.  I am deeply concerned for the future of this beloved company.  You can read more about it here .  I look forward to learning more about the circumstances surrounding this decision.  If you are a friend of Skylight, please make your opinion known.  

In these rough economic times, it is hard to keep a toehold as an employed artist.  Personally, I think sticking to your guns as an artist is the only way to get through this mess.  That goes for organizations as well as individuals, and I think chucking your artistic vision, and your artistic visionary, are not reasonable compromises.  I hope that as we learn more about the situation at Skylight, we find that their decision making process was grounded by the artistic vision that has defined that company for so long, and not by temporary financial setbacks.  

As for current Figaro activities, our first dress was, well, a first dress.  There were a lot of new things thrown into the mix; costumes, new acoustic, orchestra.  It takes awhile to find your sea legs.  I was concerned mainly about getting through the piece vocally, using the Lafayette dress rehearsals and run as a measuring stick.  I am happy to say that generally speaking I am singing this role with more ease and finesse than last time, but there are still some lingering issues.  I sort of peter out in Act IV, right where I need to have the most gas.  I'm going to try some different things tonight.  The good news is that, all troubles aside, I don't feel fatigued at the end of the opera.  This tells me that I can fix it.  Here's hoping.  

The show held together pretty well with all the new elements in place.  This music never gets old for me.  Orch dress # 2 tonight.  I'll be back with more (and less politically charged) rantings later.  

AW

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