I've never been to Union Square greenmarket, neue gallerie, boathouse at central park

Yes indeedy, today was a full day. My mom came into town yesterday to spend some time with me, and we managed to accomplish a lot today.

First, we spent the morning shopping at the Union Square Farmer's Market, which is the only really good one of it's type here in the City. There are other little markets throughout the city, but this one in Union Square is where I've heard all the chefs of the city shop. I can see why. There is a big variety of wonderful looking fruits and vegetables, and it's all reasonable. I was also able to get some farm fresh eggs and rustic organic bread. I will definitely be going back there for produce. I made a really yummy and slightly bizarre peach salsa thing with the ripe peaches and fresh basil from the market, and put it on top of toasted pieces of the rustic bread slathered with warm brie. It was pretty good.

The next stop on today's whirlwind tour was the Neue Gallerie, a museum on the Upper East Side with German and Austrian Expressionist Art. It is my friend Kim's favorite place in the City, and it was ridiculous I had never been there. Well, now I've at least been in the cafe, but I still haven't seen the Art. We went to the cafe first because it was lunch time and we were hungry. While we were there listening to a live pianist play lovely jazz and classical pieces, a customer having a coffee who turned out to be an opera singer got up and sang with the pianist, randomly. The pianist was playing Summertime, and I guess this girl, who seemed like maybe a student, just wanted to sing along, so she did. Afterwards she was handing out her card to the manager and seemed to be generally schmoozing. I don't know if she got herself a gig out of it, I found the whole thing really bizarre. She was dressed in flip flops and a tank top, although she did have a lovely voice. After we left the cafe we discovered that half of the museum is currently closed, so I decided to return in a week when the whole thing reopens, so I can see the entire collection at once.

This change in plans led us to have a few hours with nothing to do. We started walking towards the park, and my mom had the idea that we could rent bicycles and ride around the park. But once we got to the bike rental place it had closed - but the boat rental was still open. I hadn't ever rented one of those rowboats on the Central Park lake before, so I figured it would be a fun thing to try. It wasn't. It was hot and humid, and rowing was harder than I thought it would be. But you know what was even harder than rowing? Steering. I really suck at steering a rowboat. The thing that made the whole experience completely bizarre was the fact that a bunch of playboy bunnies who apparently have a reality tv show called "The girls next door" were right in front of us in line for the boat rentals with their entire tv crew. At first I thought "what are all these porn actresses doing with a tv crew in Central Park?" until the russian guy renting the boats informed me "You know, The Girls Next Door! They live with Hef!" He seemed delighted by their presence (go figure). We waited while they climbed into their rowboats with their platform heels, spray tans and bleached blonde hair, and we were next. The entire time I was in the lake I kept nearly running into one of their boats, so much so that when we finished our hour rental, one of the producers asked for our signature so they could use our images on tv. I told them just to blur my face out - I don't want to appear on that particular show, thank you. As I was getting out of the boat I twisted my knee in a weird way, and my mom had to help me hobble out of the park and into a cab. Now my shoulders, arms, and back really hurt from all that rowing (I was absolutely doing it wrong and making it much harder for myself), but at least I'm looking forward to seeing my blurry face and very bad boat steering skills on the Playboy channel.

See how much I was enjoying myself?

At least my mom was having fun!

I've never seen an classic movie at Symphony Space

And it's another thing I will definitely be doing again. Symphony Space is only a few blocks from my apartment, and while I had both seen and been in performances there, I had never been to see any films there, and they show interesting old classic films that I would never otherwise see on a big screen. They show double features every Sunday, and this month they are showing Hepburn films - today was a Hepburn/ Spencer Tracy double feature with two films from the early 50's; "Pat and Mike" and "Adam's Rib".

It's pretty amazing what a renegade actress Hepburn was, and how her roles were so ahead of their time- many of her movies could almost be made today which is definitely not the case with the majority of movies I've seen from the 50's. Both movies dealt with heavy feminist issues in a comedic and light way. "Pat and Mike" was about Hepburn as an athlete who doesn't want to marry her fiance until she feels she can be independent and achieve her own accomplishments (in the 50's - whoa!). Every time her fiance shows up in the stands for one of her matches, she chokes up and ruins the game. Tracy is her manager, and as manager and athlete they agree to have a relationship that is 50-50 - completely equal, and of course, she eventually dumps her fiance for the equal rights loving Tracy character. Movie number two, Adam's Rib, dealt square on with feminine equality. Hepburn and Tracy are married lawyers representing opposing sides in a case where a woman shoots her husband when she catches him cheating. Hepburn argues that if the shooter were a man, she would be acquitted and she wins the case, but almost loses her marriage when her husband feels emasculated by the whole process. This could seriously be a sex and the city episode right now - in fact I think it might have been. These movies were really interesting because they show just how much things have changed in certain ways, and how in other ways we haven't actually come that far in the past 60 or so years. I guess it never occurred to me to think of Hepburn as an important proponent of the feminist movement, but she certainly was bucking the stereotypes previously expected of actresses of her era. Go K-Hep!

I've never been to Kew Gardens

A good friend of mine recently moved to Kew Gardens, Queens, so today I went out to see his new apartment and the very suburban neighborhood in Queens he now lives in. I took the Long Island Railroad out there because the stop is only a few blocks from his place, and it was so fast and easy to get there. There are parts of the neighborhood that definitely look like what you imagine Queens looking like - industrial parts and lots of ethnic restaurants. But there were also parts that looked so suburban, it could have been a neighborhood in Ohio. I couldn't believe it was only a couple of subway stops away from Manhattan. Queens is actually a really nice borough because there is tons of green - there's a huge park called Forest Park just a few blocks from my friend's apartment - but also just among the apartments and houses there are trees, lawns, and little parks. I also love the around the world restaurant tour you can take, with Italian, Indian, and Asian food abounding. And not the swanky Manhattan type restaurants, but immigrant run restaurants serving the real food you would get in those countries instead of some americanized or fancified version. I can totally see the appeal of living in Queens, and I also really enjoyed my afternoon because I got to spend some quality time not only with my friend, but with his two adorable dogs, Mojo and Ella. It was a little bizarre walking Ella because my dog is also named Ella, although it felt totally normal when she barked and I said "No Ella!" because that's a phrase I utter constantly to my dog. Ella was too busy running all around for me to get a good shot of her, but Mojo did everything but say "cheese" for this photo.

I've never walked across the Brooklyn Bridge

Happy 4th of July! I'm not generally an overly patriotic person (if anybody asks me I'll say Italy and Canada are better in a second) BUT today's adventures sure made me appreciate this great city. I enlisted the company of a brand new friend - someone I had never before spent any time with, which added to the "I've never" nature of today's outing. We took the subway down to South Street Seaport and stood on the piers to view all four of the Waterfalls - NYC's summer '08 public art installation. This installation has been compared to the Gates, the orange gated flags that the artist Christo put up all through Central Park a few years back, and which I found very interesting and evocative. The waterfalls were nice, but with all the things to look at surrounding them - the Brooklyn Bridge included, they seemed like just another blip on an already full landscape. The bright orange gates dotted throughout Central Park in the bleak winter landscape totally and completely changed the way the park looked, and both walking through them and looking at them from a distance were really effective. I wouldn't kick these waterfalls out of bed for eatin' crackers, but I probably wouldn't ask them out for a second date either. Below is a photo of the Waterfall under the Brooklyn Bridge, and a photo I had taken of The Gates. See how the Bridge kind of dwarfs the waterfall, but the gates really enhance the park? No offense waterfall artist guy - I'm sure you're really sick of being compared to a totally non-related art installation.

The waterfalls became even less exciting when I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, the next stop on today's journey, because the bridge itself is so totally awesome - and by awesome I mean both great and large, and also cool and rad. The structure of the Bridge is so beautiful to look at, and when framed with the views of Manhattan when you reach the Brooklyn side, it's totally breathtaking. I can't quite believe it has taken me this long to experience this spectacular and totally free wonder of my city, but I'll definitely be doing it again, maybe next time at sunset which I've heard is unbeatable.

The day finished with a rather long (and somewhat lost) walk through Brooklyn until we located Montague street (thanks to Georgia who grew up in Brooklyn, and who I called because I didn't want to walk all the way to Queens by accident), a lovely little street in Brooklyn Heights filled with restaurants and shops, where we sat down in a cafe for dinner and beers. I enjoyed today so much that it made me feel really good about my decision to fill July with newness because new friends and new experiences make new beginnings, which make me feel hopeful and alive. Not that I'm normally depressed and dead, but you know what I mean.

I've never been to P.S 1

Hooray - I finally did something on my list today, and it only took me three days! P.S 1 is an outpost of the MOMA here in New York, and while I've been to the MOMA many times since it reopened, I had never been to P.S 1 before, and I do love me some modern art. So I took the 7 train out to queens (I don't think I've ever had occasion to take the 7 train before this either) and even though you can see the building when exiting the subway, I still managed to get lost twice before I located the huge old school.

I guess they put the museum out in Queens because the big space was cheaper, but it definitely has a "too cool for school" lower east side vibe to it. First of all, there are pretty much no explanations for any of the installations, so you have no idea why there is a video screen with a guy playing a clarinet badly while a monkey looks on, even after you watch it for a few minutes. I'm actually not the biggest fan of video art installations because I feel like I'm watching tv, which feels entirely unartistic. There were also paintings and sculptures, some that really spoke to me, and some that really spooked me. There was one room that had a big silver bowl filled with water and a stuffed rabbit peering into the water - I think it was titled "confusion" and I was definitely confused by it. I got totally freaked out by a bunch of metal underwater suits hanging up in a dark room and "making" very loud clanging noises, but I liked that it elicited such a strong reaction from me. The second floor was a special exhibition of various forms of artist representations of social protest, including a room devoted to different takes on patriotism and the american flag . One piece was just an official photo of President Bush hung upside down, and another was a shopping cart full of hundreds of pin-on buttons with photos of the american flag on them. There were no real explanations for any of the pieces, so somebody like my Mom, who wouldn't recognize the faces of the members of the band Bon Jovi circa 1987, would have had trouble appreciating the irony of the photo of said band members posing in the same formation with a flag as the soldiers in the very famous Iwo Jima photo. This is what I mean by the museum being too cool for school - isn't art supposed to be for everybody?

Although a lot of stuff left me scratching my proverbial head, I still really enjoyed myself because whether I got what the artist was trying to convey or not, most of the things made me start thinking about something - even if it was whether they should be considered "art" or not - and the fact that all of it was thought provoking makes it interesting and artistic to me. I would definitely go back, but next time I'll go to the MOMA first (admission to P.S 1 is free if you have a MOMA ticket that's less than a month old) to see the Picassos and Pollacks and Rothkos and see if I can find anything of a conversation between those guys and these stuffed rabbits and clarinet playing monkeys. Whether I find it or not, the thought process will definitely stir up my brain in ways only art - any art - can.

And speaking of art - here's a photo of the rustic armoire my dad and I made using an antique barn door, and then antiquing the rest to match (he did all the carpentry and I did the painting). It's a real monster standing at almost 7 foot tall, and 3 foot wide. If that doesn't fit all my stuff, it's time to get rid of something.

I've never driven my parents van through the Bronx

Now I'm starting to regret that I sent an email to all my friends announcing "Hey - I'm going to do fascinating stuff each day and write witty and telling commentary on all the new epiphanies I'm having!" because both today and yesterday have kind of been lame in the department of epiphanies.

Today my parents and I drove down from their house to the City to deliver and assemble my newly constructed armoire. As usual, everything took longer than it should have and we got on the road later than anticipated. My dad was feeling really sleepy on the drive, so I volunteered to take over the driving, ignoring my Mom's raising of her eyebrows at this suggestion. My mom and dad are both sort of nervous passengers/drivers, but they have a system that they've worked out after over 40 years of marriage where my dad is behind the wheel, but they kind of co-drive the vehicle. It seems to put them both at ease. So when I got behind the wheel, it really messed with the system, and they both felt like they needed to become backseat drivers. My dad was worried that I was not staying in my lane, and my mom was very adamant that I not tailgate (i.e. - stay 650 miles behind the driver in front of me so that she doesn't need to slam down on her imaginary passenger breaks). This was all going fine, and I was laughing a little at them, but then our GPS directed us to get off the Saw Mill Parkway and take Broadway all the way down from 230th street to 99th street. Why the GPS didn't think the Henry Hudson would be more direct I don't know, but once we got into the Bronx is when true hilarity ensued.

I think both my parents nearly peed their pants every time someone cut me off, which was approximately once every second. Not to mention the constant jockeying of lanes you have to do to avoid the left turners in one lane and the double parkers in the other. It really is a nervous passenger's nightmare. By the time we reached the 160's or so, I got fed up and just followed some signs to take me onto the Henry Hudson, but as I was merging I nearly took out two other big vans, and I think my parents really did pee their pants at that point. We made it to my apartment unscathed, but both Mom and Dad needed to lie down for a minute to recover from the experience. And in their defense, I'm not a horrible driver, but I ain't great either, so they were probably mostly justified in their terror.

I had big plans to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge today, or at least see the Waterfalls Installation downtown, but by the time we recovered from the driving, put together the armoire and ate dinner it was too late. But tomorrow - tomorrow I'm going to change to world and move mountains and write such gripping social commentary that it will surely be published immediately in literary journals. Either that or I'm gonna, like, try a new flavor of chewing gum.

I've never been to Woodstock

And now I have, and I don't need to go back. I mean, it's a sweet cute little town, but you can pretty much cover the whole thing in about an hour and a half. It didn't exactly feel like I was starting my 30 day adventure with a bang, but I did have an absolutely delicious spinach, mushroom and three cheese strudel at a restaurant called Joshua's, so it wasn't a total wash. Actually, it kind of became a wash - or I should say, we got washed - when a crack of thunder nearly made my mom jump out of her sandals and then it started pouring rain on our un-umbrellaed heads. And since we didn't need any tie-dyed tee-shirts, we pretty much surmised that the trip to Woodstock was over.

The other "I've never" thing I finished up today was building an armoire for my apartment. About a year ago I found this cool old barn door at an antiques store, and I've spent the last year trying to think of how to use it creatively as a piece of furniture. My first thought was to fashion a headboard, and then I thought maybe a dining room table, but I eventually decided I needed more storage, so my dad agreed we could build an armoire and use the barn door as a....door. I thought I was going to be doing some major sawing and drilling in the construction, but my dad is such a fantastic and speedy builder (how he learned this I don't know, because he is a school teacher by trade), that I was basically a tool hander. I did have the creative job of painting the thing to make it look old enough to match the old door, and frankly, I think the sucker turned out pretty awesome.

I realize none of these experiences were earth shattering or worthy of any guide-books or how-to guides, so hopefully tomorrow's adventure will turn out to life changing. No pressure or anything.

The List

Tomorrow, as promised, I will start my 30 day adventure where I try one new New York thing each day. I'll actually be upstate visiting my parents until Wednesday, so my first new thing will be to visit the town of Woodstock, where I've never been before. Then I'll return to the City and begin my list there. I'm not going to be a fascist with myself about the rules of this little game, because sometimes doing something new will simply be trying a new restaurant, or going to a dinner party where there will be guests I've never met before. I've done a little research and compiled a list to start myself off with - I probably won't do all of these things, and other things will get added as I discover them, but I'm publishing the list so that if any of you are around and think to yourselves "Hey, I've never been to The Village Vanguard either!" and you want to join me, just let me know because adventures are usually more fun when they're shared. I'm not giving myself specific dates to do any of these things, I'll probably just decide a day or two in advance - more if I need reservations - and maybe sometimes I'll just get off on a subway stop I never have before and walk around. Oh - and if anybody has any suggestions, please let me know!

The list - a place to start. I've never:

1. Walked across the Brooklyn Bridge

2. Visited the Botanical Gardens (Bronx) Tuesday-Sunday 10AM-6PM www.nybg.org

3. Eaten Dim Sum in China Town; Golden Unicorn, 18 E Broadway at Catherine Street 212-941-0911

4. Attended a Concert at Bargemusic (July 12th at 8PM is free) www.bargemusic.org

5. Attended a Summer Garden free concert at the MOMA sculpture garden (Sundays at 8, doors open at 7) www.moma.org

6. Seen a show at Upright Citizens Brigade , Improv Sketch Comedy, Free shows: Sunday 9:30PM (tickets distributed at 8:15),
Monday and Wednesday at 11:15 PM www.ucbt.com

7. Attended a Book Reading – best bet, Barnes and Nobles in Union Square www.bn.com for schedule

8. Been to the Triangolo Tango at Chelsea Market Saturday Afternoon www.tangonyc.com

9. Taken a Free Yoga class in Riverside Park Wednesdays at 6:30PM www.riversideparkfund.org

10. Found the Cheapest and best cheeses; Visit East Village Cheese Store 40 Third Ave btwn 9th and 10th sts 212 477-2601

11. Been to P.S 1 Contemporary Art Center www.ps1.org

12. Listened to Jazz at the Village Vanguard www.villagevanguard.com

13. Had a lunch of Oysters and Martinis at the Oyster Bar www.oysterbarny.com

14. Been to the famous Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market www.hellskitchenfleamarket.com

15. Been to The Frick www.frick.org

16. Been to Neue Gallerie www.neuegallerie.org

17. Been to the Museum of the City of New York www.mcny.org

18. Visited the Flux Factory, a non-profit artists workshop warehouse www.fluxfactory.org

19. Done the Gallery walk in west Chelsea www.westchelseaarts.com

20. Seen a classic film at the Thalia theater at Symphony Space (July seems to be double features with Hepburn)
www.symphonyspace.com

21. Shopped for entire dinner at Union Square Greenmarket Mon, Wed, Fri, Sat 8AM-6PM www.cenyc.org\

22. Tried an entirely raw food dinner at Pure Food and Wine www.purefoodandwine.com

23. Taken a tour of the Brooklyn Brewery (Saturdays) www.brooklynbrewery.com

24. Gone to a beach accessible by subway from NYC – I’m thinking Brighton Beach, followed by some Ukranian food perhaps

25. Taken Free running lessons in Central Park www.nikerunning.com

26. Attended Trapeze School www.trapezeschool.com

27. Checked out new designers at TheMarketNYC, 268 Mulberry St btwn Houston and Prince, www.themarketnyc.com

28. Attended a Story/Essay Reading at The Moth www.themoth.org

29. Taken a cheese class at Murray’s Cheese Shop www.murrayscheese.com

30. Had a Russian/Turkish bath in the East Village, 268 East 10th st btwn 1st Ave and Ave A 212 505 0665

31. Checked out the First Friday party at Guggenheim www.guggenheim.org

32. Eaten the best Mac and Cheese in NYC at S’mac www.smacnyc.com

33. Rented a bike and biked along the Hudson River

34. Walked the length of the Island from the Cloisters to the Ferry, stopping for food along the way (may take
more than one day)

35. Visited the new Brooklyn Ikea, and taken the water taxi to see the Waterfalls installation

36. Been to the Bronx Zoo(!!!!) www.bronxzoo.com

37. Been the the Earth Room - a room in Soho full of dirt - www.earthroom.org

38. Relaxed at the Wave Hill Gardens in Riverdale - free on Tuesdays in the summer - www.wavehill.org

Swap

There are many extraordinary things about living in New York City, but one is really standing out to me this week: the unbelievable need to acquire, and at some point, discard masses of stuff. Americans love to buy stuff, but in New York, we don't have very much space to keep it. In the rest of the U.S people have massive houses with attached garages where they keep all their stuff, but here in New York, unless your name is Donald Trump, we mostly only have a few square meters to call our own, so space is a precious commodity. For me, who loves old furniture and strange items from different eras, this place is heaven. I would much rather discover an amazing chair from the 1950's with aged wood and black leather cushions that costs me $40 and that I have to lug on the subway from Brooklyn back to my apartment (it's happened, people) than pay $3000 for a ceramic bowl (what a decorator friend of mine told me is normal for clients who can afford a decorator). The thrill is in the hunt and subsequent capturing of a bargain much more than in spending a lot of money on something. Which is why I live and die by the god that is Craigslist.

For anybody who doesn't know, (and if you don't know, what rock have you been living under?) Craigslist is simply the most wonderful invention of mankind. It is a free site where people advertise all kinds of things for sale like furniture, clothing, musical instruments, real estate listings, housing swaps, lessons, groups, and personals. One of my favorite sections for browsing is something called Missed Connections which is people who were too embarrassed to talk to that handsome guy on the 2 train, and so make a little ad on craigslist when they get home and hope he sees it. But I digress. My absolute favorite thing on Craigslist is the furniture listings. I basically furnished my entire apartment by finding people who needed to get rid of all of their stuff NOW so were selling it for a song, and I only chose weird pieces from different eras that I loved. (On a side note, I also found my Italian tutor on craigslist, and I ended up subletting my apartment to a famous opera singer, who found my sublet ad on Craigslist just by random coincidence. I'm telling you, greatest invention ever).

For the last year, every time I'm home and have time on my hands, I find myself browsing Craigslist for things I need or don't need, but the thing I have been determined I would one day find is a free piano. How can there be a free piano you ask? Well, as I said, people have limited space, and pianos are big, so often times, people just want to unload them. And if somebody will pay to haul away their space stealing monstrosity, they can have it for free. I have seen many free pianos advertised over the last 12 months, but none of them has ever worked out to become mine. When I got home from Italy, I intensified my search and discovered something really promising; a piano dealer in the Bronx that needed to liquidate their warehouse. I trekked all the way up there, only to discover that the monsters they were trying to liquidate were the real lemons of the piano world. Back to the drawing board.

As I was browsing the Craigslist furniture section the other day, I saw a piece of furniture that caught my eye, and clicked on the ad, only to discover that it was listed as part of an estate sale - IN MY BUILDING!!!!! EUREKA!!! I made an appointment and went up to look at all the stuff, most of which didn't appeal to me, but spotted in the corner an upright piano. Unfortunately, said the executor, the piano was promised to someone else. But later that night, lo and behold, I got a note under my door saying that the piano was available again. I went up and played it and it was in surprisingly good condition, so she sold it to me for 50 bucks, and I got my friend in the building to help me wheel it right onto the elevator and into my apartment, thus avoiding the probably 300 plus bucks I would have had to pay a mover to get any "free" piano from somebody else's apartment building to mine. Now it proudly sits where my sad little digital keyboard has sat for the last year, and my La Boheme score sits on it, opened and highlighted, but still totally unlearned. But I already had a response to my newly placed Craigslist ad to sell my digital piano, and said potential buyer has an appointment to come look at it tomorrow. I'm selling it for about an eighth of what I paid for it, but now that I have a piano, I have to get rid of it pronto because I don't have the space for it.

Solitude

I'm sorry I haven't written anything substantial since I've been back in the States. I guess was feeling a little lost, and then I got busy, and I also felt like my life got a lot less interesting. Plus I've been dealing with the depression that always seems to follow after a big gig ends and I have too much time on my hands. I was momentarily distracted by a wonderfully fun and unusual gig doing this avant garde "project" with french directors at a downtown theater here in New York. But now that's over, and I found myself falling into a downward spiral of feeling sorry for myself tonight, which only seems to happen when I know I have a long time off with no singing gigs to make me feel like a productive member of society. It seems like time off should be a blessing, but when you love what you do as much as I do, it feels more like a curse, especially because it gives me way too much time to think, and being alone with my thoughts for too long each day can be dangerous for me. I started to feel so upset tonight that around 10 PM I put on my sneakers and took a walk down Broadway to clear my head.

When I got outside, I was reminded of something I really do love about new york; the fact that there are always people on the streets - lots of people - and the city is teeming with life at all hours. Just walking down the street is a great distraction from your thoughts because there are so many people to watch. It's also a great way to collect your thoughts as you get a sense that you are one among many. I ended up wandering into Barnes and Nobles (which was still open - hooray!) and for some reason found myself browsing in the books about New York City. I started flipping though this book about all the great things to do in New York City that are totally free, and I suddenly had an idea.

I have the month of July completely off. My only "job" this month will be to learn two new opera roles because once I start going in August, I have back to back gigs pretty much until Christmas. And while I am glad to have this month to learn these two new roles (one is Musetta which will take me all of 5 minutes to learn, but which makes me feel like my larynx is going to escape through the top of my head because it's a soprano role, and one is this rarely performed Donizetti opera which will be a bigger challenge, but one I'm really eager to get to because I loooooove his music), I find that I have trouble motivating myself to learn music when I have nothing but time. I know, it sounds ridiculous, but when I have a full schedule is when I get the most done. When I'm free I don't know where all my time goes, but nothing seems to get done. I thought about the possibility of getting a little job just for the month, just to keep me busy and on task, but the pickings were slim and the money would be terrible for my limited skill set. So instead of getting a job, I am giving myself the opportunity to have an adventure.

I have decided that for the month of July, I will do something I have never done in New York City every single day, and I will blog about each activity. I will try to keep the activities on the free/cheap side, since money doesn't grow on trees when you're an unemployed opera singer. I mean, I have lived in new york for almost 11 years now, but there are SO many things I have never done, so many places I have never been, and untold adventures to be had out there. So instead of complaining about having time on my hands (again, I apologize for the ridiculousness of this complaint, especially if you have a very time consuming job) I will look at this as an opportunity to have a month long vacation in New York City, and a personal challenge to put myself out there in the world and try new things. And hopefully the new things I'm trying will inspire me to keep on track with the new music I'm learning, and I'll learn some new things about myself in the process. Not to mention the fact that when I do new things (like trying to go a bank in Italy for example) is when I seem to get myself into the funniest situations, and they provide perfect fodder for me to be able to mock myself on this blog.

I'll start July 1st, and try a new activity/restaurant/experience every day. I'll have the next week or so to plan it, get some books to help me think of ideas, and I'll happily take any suggestions from any of you. And I thank you in advance for reading this because sharing new things makes them all the more interesting for me.

Culture Shock

I just returned from the grocery store, where I purchased a few items with which to cook dinner. The items were: one eggplant, one red bell pepper, one small bunch of basil, one small sack of cherry tomatoes, and a container of sea salt. The bill? $15.53. In Italy these items would have cost me 3 euro total for everything. And we wonder why we're going into a recession....

Disorder and Disarray

Whenever I get back from a long trip it takes me at least a week, possibly two, to feel like I have any idea what's going on. I usually take 2 or 3 days just to unpack my suitcases, and another couple of days before I go to the grocery store. I just tend to exist in a sort of no-mans-land until I can get my head wrapped around the idea that I live here and it's time to put on my "normal" hat. Also, usually I have a week or two off after a period of intense focus and concentration, so I tend to let my brain go a little frazzled for a little while anyway. Add to that the fact that I have never been able to get anything done when I have to structure my own time. If I have a rehearsal schedule, even a really busy one, I remain utterly productive, scheduling in practice time, social time with friends, and running all my errands. If I have two weeks of nothing, I end up procrastinating, watching tv, spending way too much time looking at furniture on craigslist (I am forever decorating and redecorating my apartment), and chatting on the phone. With no enforced schedule, I am lost in a sea of procrastination and distraction.

Today was one of those new york days where I wind my way through the day only to realize I haven't really gotten anywhere or accomplished anything. In the morning I made my way to the performing arts library to try to get my hands on a score for this rare french operetta that I have to perform excerpts from in a couple of weeks. In fact, rehearsal starts Thursday for this project and I still don't have this music. After special ordering the score, I had to return today to pick it up, but I couldn't check it out, so I had to photocopy the arias, except I wasn't allowed to copy them myself, so I had to have a librarian copy them for me, and I only noticed when I got home that she had left out a page in the middle of one of the arias. I tried to get my air conditioners installed in my windows today but the guy who does them for me wasn't working at the hardware store today. Then, I made an appointment at the Genius Bar at the Mac store for tonight at 8:20 (forgetting that it was Friday night and having a "date" with a guy who is working in the mac store REALLY doesn't count) only to be told that the thing I wanted to do with my computer is possible but only if you download third party software, which they don't recommend. And having thought I had totally conquered jet-lag, it seems to instead be completely knocking me on my ass at 11:30, when I become delirious and lose the ability to communicate.

Maybe tomorrow I'll be fully functional and get everything on my list done. But considering the first night I arrived home I wrote down "buy dental floss" and I still haven't one week later, things aren't looking so good in the Rivera department of productivity, or in the oral hygiene department for that matter.

She's Baaa-aaack

What can I say, it turns out I do really like blogging.

I thought I was adjusting remarkably well to the time change and avoiding jet-lag for the most part, until I passed out drooling and snoring on the couch tonight at 9:30 during Hilary Clinton's supposed history making speech. I woke up again in time to see the beginning of Obama's speech, but when I felt myself drifting off I figured I'd better get off the couch and walk it off, which led me right over here to the computer and my new favorite past-time. Also on the "not quite ready to admit I'm not in Italy" front, I went out for dinner with Georgia last night at an italian restaurant, I forced the poor unsuspecting Italian waiter to talk to me in Italian, followed by a trip to the new york outpost of Grom, the gelateria that exists in only two places; Torino and New York City. Just to be fair, it was Georgia's idea to eat Italian, and to go to Grom, but I'm certain she was suggesting those two ideas because of the forlorn, nostalgic look I was getting in my eye at the mere mention of the word Torino.

I marched into my agent's office today and told him that I was officially addicted to working in Italy and/or Europe, and that if he didn't get me more jobs there, I would die. I actually said that to him. The good news is that he totally gets what I'm talking about - my agents are the only ones in new york who speak multiple languages and conduct more than half of their business in Europe, so they know why their artists want to work there.

So let's all cross our fingers and pray to all that is holy that by the end of this year Americans will be feeling the love abroad - both our country as a whole as a result of our exciting and uniting first black president, and one of our countrywomen specifically - me! Amen.

Ci Vediamo

Well, I guess this is it, my final posting about my trip to Italy.

I'm back in my new york apartment now. Usually when I get back to my apartment, I am so glad to be there that I'm practically kissing the furniture. This time was different. It almost feels like I have another home now, because of how welcome and wonderful I felt in Torino, and for the first time in a long time, instead of sitting on my suitcases, eager to get out the door, I really didn't want to leave. This trip truly changed me, and I learned so many important things. So for my last posting, I want to talk about the most important lessons I am taking away from this experience.

1. Speaking another language is incredibly gratifying and wonderful.

I didn't know how much I would love it, and I wasn't sure an elderly 32 year old lady would still have the brain function to learn enough to be able to speak another language, but I did, and it gave me such a special feeling of happiness. I never had a friendship with someone in a foreign language before and now I have several! Before I got on the airplane from Paris to New York, I said a little prayer to the universe asking "please let me be seated next to an Italian speaker for this long flight so I'll have one last chance on this trip in this language" and low and behold, I was sitting behind a young newlywed couple from Napoli, neither of whom could speak a word of english. I was so giddy to be able to translate for them, and help them with their plans for new york, to tell them in Italian what the food and drink choices were, to help them fill out the customs forms. It made me ridiculously happy. I love being able to speak another language, and I love it especially when I can help other people with this new skill.

2. I love working in and living in Europe, and specifically, Italy.

Italy has it's quirks, to say the least. And singing in Italy has it's challenges. I've written many blog entries about both of those experiences. But even when I was cursing the closed supermarket or trembling backstage because of lack of rehearsal, I was loving every single second. I want to sing a lot more in Italy - before it was just something I wanted to do because I thought it would be interesting, and maybe good for my career. Now the place and the people are in my soul, and I don't just want to go back, I need to. I feel every fiber of myself being pulled back there like a magnet.

3. Generosity of spirit is something that can transcend language and culture.

This paragraph is about what I learned from meeting my friend Vincenzo. He is truly a one of a kind individual, and I have never experienced such unconditional support and caring from any person other than my parents. He treated me immediately like I was a member of his own family, because he could sense, I suppose, that I needed someone to help me. From the very first day when he saw me standing in the first rehearsal totally confounded and clueless, he was the one who marched right up to me and started introducing me to everyone, even though it was also his first day working at the theater, and he didn't know much more than I did. He didn't care that I barely spoke Italian, he talked to me anyway, and he is the reason I speak Italian now, because he kept talking to me every day and that's how I learned. He had me over to his apartment and he taught me how to cook southern italian dishes. He had my parents over to his apartment and he taught them to cook italian dishes. He let me stay with him when I stayed the extra week, and he insisted I take his room. He helped me run errands, came to my rehearsals to cheer me on, always had a bottle of water for me backstage and words of encouragement, He found a way to get me the archival dvd of the first performance, he brought my dad to the theater doctor, he found me a masseuse, a Berlioz score, and the medicine I needed when I was sick. And he wasn't my boyfriend, or my brother, or my agent - he was just a person who sensed I needed help and was generous enough to give it. So maybe the biggest lesson I learned from this trip was that when someone is willing to help you, accept their help, and when you can return the favor to them or others, do it. That is what makes life beautiful. I think after meeting him, I am a better person because of who he is and what he taught me about caring for others unconditionally.

And that, my friends, about wraps things up for me. I'm going to take a few days off and see if blogging, like Italy, starts pulling me back. I have a feeling I'll be back in both worlds very soon.

e strano

Well, I'm home. I don't really have my wits about me to write my final "here are all my thoughts about and summations of Italy" posting right now because it's almost 11PM new york time, which would make it 5 AM Italy time and I've been traveling all day, and speaking strange mishmashes of english, italian, and french. My brain is fried and all I can say is I already miss Italy. More tomorrow.

I came, I saw, I didn't sing

I woke up this morning and just knew I couldn't do the audition. As I mentioned yesterday, the cold started going into my nose, and when I woke up it was just out of control. I couldn't even hardly talk, so I definitely couldn't sing. It really isn't my favorite way to end this journey, and I'm definitely disappointed I didn't get to do the auditions because one thing is sure; I love it here and I want to come back as soon as possible. But too many good things came out of this experience for me to wallow in self-pity over this failure of a week. Instead, I choose to keep in the front of my brain all the things I'm taking away from this trip, and how I really feel like it changed me in so many ways for the better. I'm planning on writing my last entry tomorrow night while I wait at the airport (if there's a wireless connections, which now I'm realizing, in the Torino airport won't be likely) or maybe when I get home if I'm not too exhausted. I still haven't decided whether I should keep blogging on a regular basis or save the blogging for then I go to exotic locales. We'll see.

I will leave you today with one funny story from a few days ago that I forgot to report, but which bears repeating. The other day Vincenzo made lunch for me and this other friend of his, a violinist with the Teatro Regio orchestra. I was explaining to them both why I had decided to start eating vegetarian at the beginning of this year, and I was trying to explain that one of the reasons is all the additives and preservatives that go into the processing of American food. As usual, I was sort of out of my element in terms of vocabulary, so I was just making words I knew in english into Italian ones, which works about 50% of the time. I finally came to the end of my explanation with "e ci sono tanti preservativi nel cibo americano" which I thought was a pretty good guess at how to say that there are tons of preservatives in american food - except Vincenzo and Monica burst out laughing. Well, preservativi does not mean preservatives - it means condoms. That's right folks, all those condoms in amercan food turned me right into a vegetarian. It was a classic linguistic mishap, and one that I will not mistake again. By the way - preservatives is translated as conservante, just in case you are ever plan to have a discussion about food production with an italian.

Venezia

I arrived in Venice today and the first thing I had to do was strip off half my clothes. For the past three weeks it has been cold and rainy in Torino, (I blame the weather among other things for this lovely cold) and I arrived in my Torino clothes - sweater, trench coat, and scarf. But when I exited the train, I was hit with the sun and 80 degree weather and my system was shocked by this sudden change of season. I tore off my winter gear happily, although carrying everything and all my clothes was a challenge.

When I came out of the train station, one of the first people I saw was somebody I knew. This dancer from City Opera named Billy was boarding one of the tourist boats with some people, and I would have had to go screaming after him like an american tourist to talk to him, so I didn't get his attention. But when I run into him in New York, it will be funny to say, "so, what were you doing in Venice on May 29th?" and freak him out.

Venice is like disneyland. First of all, it feels totally unreal to be riding in this boat along the "streets" of this floating city. I kept thinking I was on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. The second reason it's like disneyland is that everyone here - every single person it seems like - is a tourist. I didn't realize how lucky I was to be in Torino for my Italian immersion until I arrived in Venice today, and noticed that all the people in the service industry here automatically speak english to everyone.

But I digress - so I exited the train station, spotted somebody I knew, and then had to figure out how to get to the hotel. This was no easy feat. Below I have cut and pasted the exact directions on how to get to the train station to the hotel from the hotel's website:

Get to the Venice train station of Santa Lucia, continue with vaporetto Actv line 1 or 2 (stops in front of the station) towards Saint Mark and get off after about half an hour at Vallaresso stop. Continue on foot along Calle Vallaresso, turn left, cross the bridge and continue on Calle Larga XXII Marzo. Turn right on the second street, Calle delle Veste, and go straight to Campo San Fantin where the famous La Fenice Theater stands. Turn right on Calle del Fruttarol: You will have arrived, Hotel Becher is at number 1857.

Okay, seriously? And it's not like you can just hop in a taxi to get there - you actually have to use the waterways. I mean, I have been in Italy for 2 months, I speak Italian, and I totally got lost, as I knew I would when I read those directions. Imagine some poor person who didn't know how to get around Italy? I got onto the vaporetto, which is like a water bus, just fine (although the line to buy tickets was excruciatingly long, and I tried really hard to avoid it by speaking Italian to people and showing I'm not just "another tourist", but no dice.) and the ride on the vaporetto was very cool although surreal. Then I arrived at San Marco stop, which said nowhere Calle Vallaresso, but it was the last stop so I got off. I found Calle Vallaresso, but the next street in the directions was nowhere to be found. I finally found a police officer and asked where La Fenice, the opera theater was, and they directed me. Still, once I got there, I had to go down a few wrong streets before I found the right one. But it ended up being worth it because my adorable little room has a balcony directly overlooking the canal, and gondolas are constantly floating by, sometimes with singing gondoliers. That's pretty fun.

I spent the afternoon exploring, getting lost again, finding myself, and taking photos. The only annoying thing is that while I had been feeling much better all day, about two hours ago I started sneezing a lot, and now my nose is completely stuffed up. I seriously still don't know if I'm even going to do this audition tomorrow, because my health keeps fluctuating even more than the weather. I guess I'll figure it out when I wake up. And no matter what, I'm glad I got the opportunity to at least see Venice.

Still sick

Yup, the title says it all. Yesterday I sent my agent three different emails that said," I'm sick, I don't think I can do the audition", "Yeah, I'm still sick", and "Wait I feel better, don't cancel it yet" and he received all three before he woke up. So we chatted on the phone and he did a little shuffling and was able to schedule and audition in Genova today, which is only an hour and forty minutes from Torino, and reschedule the Venice audition for Friday. I really thought I would be able to do an audition today, but I woke up and my voice was very low, so I tried singing and discovered I really couldn't. I mean, I can sing, I don't have laryngitis or anything, but I can't sing well enough to make a good first impression, and other than that lady from Tulsa who makes you come in and sing all your arias for her once a year, I usually don't reaudition for people, so if I can't do well, I'd better not do it. I'm planning on going to Venice tomorrow and staying the night regardless of how I feel, and hopefully I'll be up for singing for them on Friday. But if not, I'll try not to be too disappointed. And at least I'll get to see Venice.

Yesterday I didn't leave the house, and my most exciting adventure was with the shower in Vincenzo's apartment. I vaguely recalled when I had visited Vincenzo before and washed my hands in the bathroom, that I had noted that his shower-head seemed to be resting on the edge of the bathtub and that there was no shower curtain, but my mind didn't process it fully until I had to use it yesterday. He has a full sized bath tub, but he has never mounted the shower head up high or put in a shower curtain, so when he and his brother shower, they just hold the shower-head above them to rinse off and basta. This is not a concept that is really feasible for me. First of all, I am an american glutton, and am quite used to standing under the hot water for some minutes just to wake up and relax. But this isn't possible when you have to hold the hot water above your head with one arm. Also, I don't know where exactly he puts the shower-head when he's shampooing, but I had the bright idea to try to hold it between my knees so I could use both my hands to lather. Sometimes I would try to sort of squat down and put the shower-head in my lap, but that also proved to be a difficult position. Also, remember, there is no shower curtain, so every time I tried to find a creative place to hold the shower-head, I would squirt the entire bathroom with water. I finally settled on putting it on the floor of the tub, and shivering while I washed or lathered, and picking it up again to rinse. The thing that baffles me is that he has lived here for 4 years and has been taking these short, water conserving showers all that time. And I've been in there after he has showered - there is no water on the floor! This shower experience, combined with the hole in the floor toilets that I have encountered at many restaurants and cafes, causes me to note that The Italian bathroom experience in general appears to be slightly different than from american one.

But shower disasters aside, Vincenzo is a fantastic cook, and has taken on the challenge of teaching me as many dishes as possible before I leave, while also feeding my hungry stomach. Yesterday he cooked lunch and dinner, both of which were delicious. Lunch was pasta with broccoli, the only other ingredients were oil, garlic, sardines, and sweet paprika (that his grandmother makes). For dinner he made two kinds of rice - risotto with mushrooms and riso nero (which is this black rice that isn't quite a rice or a risotto) with olives, rosemary, and a creamy sauce with shrimps and saffron. He could definitely be a chef if he didn't want to work in an opera theater! After dinner I watched the most bizarre Italian sketch comedy show on TV with Vincenzo and his adorable brother Marco, and then I went to sleep in Vincenzo's comfy bed, while he slept in this tiny bed in his brother's room. These southern Italian boys are taking such good care of me, I want to take them home in my suitcase.

thoughts

So, I am not taking my second already paid for transportation this week. First, I purposefully missed my flight back to the US so I could stay here and do two auditions. Then, yesterday, as I was planning for my big trip to Venice (hooray - I got to see Venice after all) my throat started hurting, but I tried to ignore it for most of the day, thinking it was fatigue. But by the end of the day it became clear that in fact I had an actual sore throat, and that hopping a 5 hour train to Venice and having an audition the following day was perhaps not in the cards. And this morning when I woke up with that feeling of fire in your throat where you can't swallow, I knew I had to cancel the trip and the audition. Of course, it's not even 6 in the morning in New York, so my agent doesn't know yet, but he'll get my sad sick little messages when he wakes up. My first thought was of course "thank god this cold waited until after my performances to attack me" but now, as I'm sitting in bed trying to recover, I am certainly feeling disappointed. I don't know if I'll recover in time to do the other audition I was supposed to do - I hope so - and if I don't, I just wasted money and time staying here only to lie in bed and feel sorry for myself.

There is always a let down after any show is over. This one is probably going to be particularly strong because the build up was so long, the experience both stressful and exciting, and the friends I made became particularly dear to me. I became so close with the Swiss soprano named Rachel that we both shed a few tears when we had to say goodbye (it's also hard working in europe and meeting european friends because unlike American singers who all pop through new york from time to time, you really have no idea when you'll see these people again). And now, instead of my excitement about seeing new places and maybe getting new jobs, I'm lying in a bed (my friend Vincenzo's bed - he has insisted that I take his room while he bunks with his brother - this is true southern hospitality- southern italy that is), and hoping I can coax this little fever sore throat thing out of me quickly. It doesn't help that it is rainy and cloudy here for about the 16th day in a row (it has been abnormally horrible weather for this latter part of May here) and that I could be in my own bed right now if I only knew I was going to be too sick to sing auditions and had gone home.

Sometimes I feel so confused when a job is over. Did that go well? I think it did, but maybe I could have done such and such better. Did the conductor love me or hate me? Will anything come of this? Will the theater rehire me? Will I ever have an opportunity to see these dear friends again and/or work with them? Ah the profound let-down. Plus, I have been avoiding thinking about this, but I am going to get back to New York just in time for my best friend to move away. Things change, Jo (reference to Little Women for anyone who is confused) and they keep changing, and I in my Jo-ness keep hoping that the things I like will stay just as they are, but they never do.

On a lighter note, I am staying this week with Vincenzo, and this morning, before he left, he was pulling stuff out of cabinets and cupboards to make sure I had food to eat (until he returns and cooks me something for lunch). He pulled out the following things that his brother had brought in his suitcase from Southern Italy to their apartment: A huge loaf of crusty bread, a jar of home-made jam, three different types of cheeses, at least a dozen eggs, a crate of fresh cherries, and the artichokes that he used yesterday in a risotto. Oh god - how am I gonna eat anything when I leave this place!!!!!!!!!!!!

Absence

Hi everybody. I have been sorely lapsing in my blogging "duties" this last week or so. I think it's because my parents have been here, and with the three of us stuffed into my little one bedroom apartment, I haven't been feeling the silence and solitude that seems to inspire me to blog. Well, today I shipped them off to Milan (I told them not to bring their umbrellas and now it's pouring rain - I hope it's not storming like this 80 miles east!!!) and am feeling inspired to write a line or two about this momentous performance week.

Actually the week has been momentous for many reasons. First of all, my parents being here in Italy with me is of course very special and exciting and also challenging. While my parents are totally self sufficient and capable people, for some reason I feel the need to baby them while they're here, and worry all over them that they are "doing okay" and understanding everything. I don't know why I feel the need to do this - they certainly don't ask me to - but somehow I feel responsible if they have even a moment's confusion about a sign or a menu item, and feel the need to translate and manage, as is my way. Of course, they couldn't be more accommodating, proud, and supportive, and thank god they were here for my performances because if they weren't I would have drudged back to my apartment all alone and felt sorry for myself that I was experiencing this momentous occasion solo.

What's been really interesting to me is to see my burgeoning italian skills tested to the limit as I try to translate everything everyone is saying to mom and dad. It's one thing to put bits and pieces of words together in your mind and understand the gist, but to try to put those bits and pieces into english sentences is a skill I still need a lot of work on. We went to this museum that was a former palazzo and fortress, and my dad wanted to know what all the small holes on the outside of the castle were for, so I asked the docent on duty. She started explaining in rapid fire italian about the 15th century Madama of the palace, some stuff about protection, the moat, gun holes, lookout, and lots of words I wasn't familiar with, and I'm pretty sure she didn't take a breath during any of those sentences. I was basically translating words I knew and trying to string them together into some semblances of english sentences. My parents seemed impressed, although I wouldn't give them a test on the history of Torino any time soon based on that encounter. Also last night, the lovely Vincenzo invited my parents and I over to his apartment to help prepare and serve an italian meal for us and some other members of the cast. It was funny, Vincenzo was the only Italian present (the others were swiss, spanish, and south american) but the common language was Italian, so that's what we spoke. Sometimes I would try to clue my parents in on what was going on, like when people were laughing hysterically at something, but a lot of the time I couldn't possibly be myself and contribute to the conversation and be a translator. Again, lucky for me I have such easy going parents, and they managed to never look bored despite the language barrier.

And the other momentous occasion this week was my Italian/European debut! It's been both totally normal and completely surreal, so I haven't even known what exactly to write about it. Performing by now is just something I do no matter what country I'm in, so once I get onstage, it's like any other performance. It only feels different when I'm backstage joking with the supers in Italian, or when another cast member whispers something in italian to me while we're onstage. But it's pretty exciting to discover that music is truly it's own language, and that even when I'm having trouble communicating with Italian people with spoken words, I can communicate to them perfectly in this language that I've been studying since I was 9. I don't fancy myself a particularly highbrow musician in general, but I do feel all gooey inside about this particular opera and role, and I have been really enjoying myself during the performances, something that is not always possible for me. I have one more to go, tomorrow night, and both my american agent and my new french agents, who have never seen me perform in an opera, will be in attendance. My goal is to not let any of that have any affect on my enjoyment of and commitment to my performance.

In other news, it appears that I may actually stay in Italy for an extra week and do a couple of auditions. That ought to give me plenty of time to keep blogging.