Well people, it's the 13th, and I've somehow managed to blog every single day for a month. My 30 day commitment is up. But because of all your incredibly supportive comments about my blogging, I'm not going to give up entirely on frequent blogging even though I no longer have a self imposed requirement. Here's what. I'm going to commit to blogging at least every other day (more when I feel compelled) while I'm here in Portland. Then we'll see what happens after that. It's good for my creative juices to force myself to write even when I'm not feeling inspired. I came up with some subjects I wouldn't have normally discussed, and I liked the outcome. So no quitting just yet.
Let's talk about today now. First of all, I'm ridiculously proud of myself for accomplishing something that any six year old does with ease; riding a bike. As I mentioned in my post yesterday, Portland Opera generously provides its artists with a bike for the time that we're here, and Portland is a very friendly city to bicyclists. Now, I'm not exactly skilled at bike riding - or at any sporty endeavor if truth be told. But I want to prepare for my time in Berlin, where if you don't have a bike, you're just kind of a weirdo. So I walked the mile and a half to the bike shop and picked up my free bike, where I had to ask the guy really stupid questions like "why do you need to shift gears again?" But he kindly humored me, and luckily provided me with a helmet. He seemed a little concerned with my lack of skills, and said, "Now you be careful - I don't want to be responsible for ruining the opera!" to which I dryly replied, "Oh, don't worry! I have an understudy!"
But I managed to cycle all the way back to the hotel without incident. But you know what I discovered? Biking is difficult. Also; I'm out of shape. Also; I am not up to speed on any traffic laws. Also; now my legs are sore. And I only biked like 2 miles.
As for rehearsal today, we staged my aria, which was not terribly difficult. Chris (Mattaliano - director and GD of the company) had some new ideas for me which I enjoyed, and I, in typical Jenny fashion, suggested that I sing part of my aria lying on my stomach on a downward rake. And it's a part where I'm supposed to sing a high G and some very quick and light coloratura. This was absolutely not by any means a suggestion of the director. I totally and completely brought this on myself. I don't know why I feel the need to torture myself on stage, but I do. Perhaps I should invest in a therapist.
So, can I just say; Portland Opera is the sweetest gig EVAH! The pay is excellent, plus they give you housing and a per diem. The General Director has GREAT taste in singers (and can afford to pay them) so he gets GREAT artists to come here. The sing through today was a joy because every single person was simply outstanding! This hotel that the opera houses us in has free breakfast every day, and on weekday evenings, serves free microbrews (score!!!) or wine, plus appetizers and/or entire meals between 5 -7 PM. And then there's the fact that here in Portland, "Happy Hour" is big, which means many of the local restaurants and bars have a deal where with the purchase of one drink, you get a whole menu of food that only costs 2, 3 or 4 bucks per item during certain hours. Oh, and have I mentioned that we're right on the river, and the opera gives us each a free bike for our time here? Also, Portland Opera has it's own super nice office and rehearsal space. Seriously. SWEETEST GIG EVAHHHHH!
The first day of rehearsals is generally used for a musical rehearsal with the conductor, and today was no exception. That first rehearsal, or "first day of school" as one of my colleagues dubbed it today, can actually be rather nerve-wracking. You are sitting or standing before all of your colleagues, the conductor and director, the staff of the opera company, and often the company's young artists, and singing through your role. Usually you just arrived on an airplane the day before and have "airplane throat" and a bit of jet-lag. And you'd better believe that everybody is quietly assessing everybody else and forming their opinions. Plus with Barber, each principal's first major entrance is with an aria (usually stacked with a high note or six), so even if you've sung the role a bunch, you're still pretty glad if you remembered to wear deodorant that day. I got all nervous when the pianist started playing the introduction to "Una voce poco fa" today, and I had to tell myself to CALM DOWN - IT'S JUST THE SING THROUGH! But once I got over that initial fight with my nervous system, I started to relax and have fun.
And my colleagues are not only all really good singers and really funny comedians, but very supportive and fun to be around. And my experience dictates that when every person is this good, they also tend to be really nice to each other, and the working environment becomes a really positive one. And with great colleagues, and a fabulous director and conductor, both of whom I've worked with before, I have kind of scored the trifecta of a good gig experience this time.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: There are regional opera houses in this country that are putting out operas in which the artistic quality could rival any "A" house. But these companies are often largely ignored by the greater population of the operatic industry because they aren't the Met, Chicago, San Fran, Houston, Seattle, L.A. or D.C. Well people, I'm here to tell you; First rate opera is happening all around you. It's time to wake up and smell the talent. Awwww, yeah.
Of course, we often go back to work in places where we have previously worked, and if it's someplace we liked, we get to arrive and feel a pleasant sense of nostalgia as we ride from the airport through town once again. But with Portland I have all kinds of memories, and they are all flooding back. When I worked here last time it was X number of years ago (I don't even want to calculate when it actually was because then I will feel like a grandmother) and I sang Cherubino. Later that same season, my best friend Georgia sang Rosina here. Now that Portland is back to doing Barber again, I'm here (and coincidentally, Georgia was also back here for the first time since that Rosina/Cherubino year, earlier this season for a production of Phillip Glass's Orphee), staying in the same Marriot Residence Inn, in what appears to be the same room.
But also, after I sang in Portland last time, my parents moved here and lived here for two years before relocating to New York, so not only do I have memories of when I sang here, but also of the countless trips I took here to come visit them during their time living just outside the city. It's really a wonderful town, and the only thing one could possibly complain about here is the weather - but even fog and rain can be rather nice and cozy for a month.
I was delighted to discover that on the leg of my flight that went from Minneapolis to Portland, I was joined by my cast mate and friend Daniel Belcher, who is singing Figaro. Danny and I have worked together a lot, including several previous productions of Barber, and a couple productions of Little Women where we played opposite each other. I love him because he's a wonderful, kind, supportive guy, but he also enjoys sarcasm and giving me a hard time. In fact, when he saw how many suitcases I was pulling off the baggage claim carousel, he couldn't help but cry, "Oh my GOD Rivera, how much stuff do you NEED??" and even though I was quick to retort, "But it's for 4 months!!" he too quickly remembered, "Well, I seem to remember that when we went to Japan for TWO WEEKS, you had about the same amount of stuff." And he would be right about that.
See, when we went to Japan (with New York City Opera, to sing Little Women) I wasn't as good at packing light yet, and not only did I bring way more than I needed, but I also bought literally 7 kimonos, among other stuff, to bring back with me to the states. And since we were on tour and going from city to city, it was up to each of us to schlep all our stuff on and off of buses and trains and planes constantly. And since I had WAY more than I could carry, it was left up to my friends, like dear old Danny, to constantly be helping me. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised that once we loaded into the van to take us to the hotel, he called his wife and 5 year old daughter to tell them he had arrived, and after talking to his daughter for a minute, he told her, "Remember Jenny? Well, it took Daddy and Jenny awhile to get to the van because Jenny brought about 14 bags with her." I had to explain to him that 5 year olds don't understand sarcasm. But knowing his sense of humor and how smart his daughter is, she was probably totally chuckling at my expense on the other end of the line.
Well, I think at this point I'm rambling like a crazy person because I'm super tired and delirious from the long day of traveling, and I would really love to fall asleep right now. But it's only 8:30 PM here, so I have to force myself to stay awake awhile longer.
Oh - and Danny might have been right about the over packing. Upon unpacking my suitcases, I've noticed that I seem to have brought 11 pairs of shoes.
I'm packing for a gig tonight - that's not unusual. But what is unusual is the fact that if everything goes according to plan (that means if all the contracts that are still pending because of scheduling conflicts work themselves out, which they should) I will only be in my apartment for between 4 - 6 weeks during the next twelve months. For sure, I won't be back here for four months starting tomorrow, so that's what I'm trying to pack for this evening. Not to mention I will sublet my apartment while I'm away, so I have to get the apartment ready for it's new inhabitants, while making sure I have everything I need for the next couple of seasons and countries.
Here's my method for long term packing - i.e.; living out of a suitcase for a year. First of all, most of the clothes I've purchased over the last couple of years have been in neutral colors. So most of the stuff I bring in my suitcases can be worn in any season, and layered and worn together. Speaking of layering, most of my pants are jeans (ah the pleasures of not working in an office) and they are all tapered and ankle length so I can wear them tucked into boots in the winter and fall, and with sandals and flats in the spring and summer. I have two big suitcases, each of which I make sure comes in under 50 pounds so I won't get any overage charges (although the fact that most airlines are charging for checked baggage makes me want to scream). I have one of those little scales that you attach to the handle of your suitcase and lift it up to see how heavy it is, and I travel everywhere with that ingenious little device. Then I pack a carry-on suitcase full of all the heavy stuff - all my shoes and scores and electronic items - and since they don't generally weigh those, I can keep my checked bags, full mostly of clothes, under the limit that way. I put my computer, my iphone and ipod, my kindle, and my wallet and passport in my extra large handbag (I never buy a new handbag unless it's large enough to fit a score and / or laptop), and I'm on my way. For this particularly long trip away, I'm having my mom send a box of more summery stuff to me in St Louis that I can then bring with me to Europe, since I don't come home between any of it.
Then I have to make sure my apartment is clean and ready for guests, and that all the stuff I don't want them to use is put away. I have to clean out the fridge and freezer of pretty much everything, and make sure a few of my friends and neighbors have my keys in case of emergency. I have to either get my mail forwarded to my parents house, or give my friend Will who lives in my building my mail key so he can keep it and sort it. I have to make sure the doormen and the landlords know who my subletters are and when they're coming, and leave the subletters a long note about living in my place (example - this remote controls the channels, while this one controls the volume).
Worst of all, I have to say goodbye to my friends and family, just when they got used to having me around. I have to say, "okay - see you in four months - if you're around for those two weeks I'll be in town." I have to say goodbye to my freshly painted apartment and my houseplants and my funky piano. I have to say goodbye to my doorman who always comments on the weather, and goodbye to my favorite neighborhood pizza place that has the whole wheat crust I like.
But I'm excited. There is not a single town I'm slated to go to that I'm not really eager to spend time in. I get to sing and work and learn and play and goof off and laugh and probably cry a little bit too. I will take pictures, and write, and learn music, and meet new people and see lots of old friends. And I'll be something that I've learned never to take for granted; busy. Life is good. I'm ready.
I'm turning in a early blog entry today because the guy is once again working on my bathroom, and until he finishes plastering and painting I can't take a shower. And I can't learn music before I've showered. I don't know why, I just need to be clean.
So lately, in order to come up with ideas for blog posts, I've been googling the word "opera" and just seeing what comes up. But last night, I decided to change it up and google myself. I have to be in the right state of mind for an evening of self-googling, because you never know what you're going to find, and you will almost certainly find somebody saying something negative about you. So, armed with the knowledge that at least the opera news reviewer liked me, and slightly inebriated from half a bottle of Rosé (which is very helpful when googling oneself) I typed in "Jennifer Rivera opera," closed my eyes and hit search. Here is a list of things I found which surprised, and in some cases shocked me:
1. There were about a jillion links to Opera Chic's articles about me, or other blogs who had linked to her articles about me. Seriously, everybody in the whole biz and beyond must be reading her blog. Goooooooooo team OC!
2. I found a recording of part of one of my arias from the very first time I sang Cherubino on the Cincinnati Opera website! Here's the link if you want to hear younger me singing non so piu in 2002. I didn't even know a recording of that performance existed, much less that it was somewhere on the internet. But it's nice that my very first experience with my favorite role got recorded for posterity. Now if I could only get a copy.
3. I found a funny blog review of a concert I did in Washington DC that said I didn't have "star quality," although I decided not to take it too seriously when I noticed that in the same review they talked about the Lucrezia Borgia that Kate sang in DC at the same time, but instead of Kate Aldrich, they called her Kate Royale. If they were going to say I didn't have star quality, I wish they would have called me Jennifer Smith. Oh well.
4. I discovered that there were way more links to my blog entries than to my website. I don't know what that means exactly but I guess it makes sense since people look at my blog daily and not my website. Although it made me wonder why I spent so much time designing my website when everybody was looking at my free blogger page.
5. This was a doozy - so, I found this blog / website that had all these photos of women from swimsuit issues of magazines and playboy and stuff, and then if you scrolled down a few inches, you saw the photo of me from the Barber of Seville I did in Tampa where I was shaving the tenor and trying to look sexy with the caption "Jennifer Rivera's close shave." OH. MY. GOD. This brings up so many questions: How did they even find that photo? Why oh WHY with all the naked pictures of people on the internet would they put a photo of a mezzo in a black dress among all these semi porno shots??? I have no more words, just an apology to my parents if I have shamed the family with my errant ways. Ugh.
By the way, I realize that sitting around googling oneself seems like an exercise in self-involvement, and well, it kinda is. But how else am I going to know what's out there? And knowledge is power. Or in the case of #5, knowledge is shame. Either way, what the hell? Might as well just embrace it all. And hey, the guy just finished, and my bathroom ceiling no longer has a hole!!!! Time to get clean and get cracking.
One piece of advice I like to give to people is the following; if you ever want to feel truly horrible about the way you look, just go into a large establishment with harsh fluorescent lighting that has mirrors everywhere. The images of yourself reflected back to you will be so unflattering you will probably want to stop off at a plastic surgeons office on your way home. The worst offender is Century 21, the discount department store in lower Manhattan. I swear that place has the most horrible lighting on earth, combined with mirrors so fattening that they should probably be placed in a fun-house. It's enough to make you want to run screaming towards the end of the island and take a running leap off of one of the piers into the Hudson river.
The same advice could be given about what I'm doing as I write this: if you ever want to feel truly horrible about yourself as a singer and a musician, just record your very first coaching of a 20th century opera and play it back to yourself later that day. What will help with the horror is if the music is very high and quite rhythmic. Then not only can you be disgusted by your horrible musical skills, but you can also have the pleasure of listening to yourself sound like a badger being skinned alive. Truly dreadful.
I exaggerate for comedic effect, obviously. But seriously, one's first coaching on a modern piece is hardly every pretty. Unless you are one of those extraordinarily gifted singers who has perfect pitch and maybe played a musical instrument very seriously for years before you became a singer (like a friend of mine who learns all of his music by memory just by looking at the score, without making a peep - I hate him.) the first slog-through tends to be pretty gruesome. And today was no exception, especially because during a lot of my role in The Golden Ticket I'm basically screaming at my father, so the music is above the staff and quite syncopated.
Usually for me, I just need one or two goes at it with a pianist and then it all begins to make sense in my head and improves drastically. I don't have the best skills as an immediate sight reader, but I have really good ears, so once my ears can make sense of what's going on and send the messages to my brain, I can sing pretty much anything. Even if it's completely atonal, I can find the pitches using ear and muscle memory (I've had coaches ask me, "HOW are you finding that PITCH??" and I have to reply, "Honestly, I have no idea.").
But today was kind of a nightmare. First of all, my coach had never seen the score before. Some coaches will allow you to give them the score ahead of time so they can get a sense of it, but I work with one of the best coaches in NYC, and she doesn't have time to be spending hours looking at a new score, so usually we kind of learn things together. It actually helps me because then we can figure out how it's supposed to sound at the same time, and with a little repetition, I can get it into my ear and make it into actual music, as opposed to the initial warbling. But let me tell you, no one must ever hear the recordings of my initial coachings. Not only does my ipod with a mike take all the warm overtones out of my voice, but the shrieking of high A's B's, and C's when you don't really know what the next note you're supposed to sing is can be deafening.
But luckily, to lift my spirits, I did get a bit of good news. My friend Will had received his copy of Opera News in the mail, and lo and behold there was a GREAT review of the Agrippina from Berlin in there - and it was even in the magazine itself, not hidden away in the online version! Since it's not available online yet, I'm gonna go ahead and reprint what the reviewer said about me because it kind of made my day:
"In this production, Agrippina was far from the sole attraction: Pendatchanska's two female costars, Jennifer Rivera (Nerone) and Anna Prohaska (Poppea) shared fully in the evening's glory.
Rivera, an American mezzo who has appeared often at NYCO, was equally bold, singing with precision and unrestrained passion. The scenes with Agrippina were rife with oedipal over-tones. In all, her characterization of the young emperor-to-be was the evening's most varied performance, remarkable not least for the skill with which she navigated the terrifyingly fast runs of the Act III aria "Come nube che fugge dal vento."
Whoopee!!! I totally owe opera news a Beer.
And now, back to the shrieking. Talk about terrifying.
Tonight, stumped about what to write my blog about, I googled "Opera" in google news, just to see what would come up. On the first page, I found this article, in something called the L magazine, about a new Broadway show called "Lend me a tenor":
I disagree with quite a bit of Charles Isherwood's pan of Lend Me a Tenor, a revival of which opened on Broadway this weekend. But he does make one incontestable assertion: of Justin Bartha, the Hangover alum who stars in the show, he writes: "his attempts at singing are dubious at best. (The ending really should have been tweaked to avoid exposing his deficiencies in this regard.)" That's true! Not that the audience has any clue.
Bartha's character secretly aspires to be a great opera singer and, one night, when a star tenor cannot be woken up, he gets his big chance, wowing audiences with his Otello, a part he just happens to know by heart.
In one scene, Bartha and Anthony LaPaglia, as the titular tenor, collaborate on an aria, and it's never more obvious than here that Bartha can't sing, as his voice wobbles on uncertain notes. And yet at the end of the scene, the two received a wild ovation at a recent performance.
The audience seemed impressed that anyone could almost sing at all, especially in another language! But what the casting choice tells us is that Americans, even wealthy foreign tourists, have become so opera illiterate they can't even recognize when someone can't sing, to the point that characters in plays who are supposed to be opera singers needn't even be cast by anybody who can sing passably!
America: opera is pretty. You should listen to it every once in a while.
Oy. This is depressing. I haven't seen the show in question, but I've definitely seen things in plays and movies that were supposed to pass for opera singing that, well....weren't. And very few people seemed to be aware of the difference.
But how do you combat such a problem? And is it even something to be combatted? If people are listening to something and enjoying it, why spoil it for them by letting them know that what they're hearing actually sucks ass?
I think the reason to try to educate people is that when they realize what they are missing, they might be able to get to an entirely new level of understanding and passion about this art form, and with that knowledge, their appreciation of the art form can only be deepened. If they went crazy for somebody just because he sang passably and in a foreign language, imagine how moved they could be if they were aware of what went into opera singing, and were able to appreciate it in it's true form!
I guess the only chance we have with this is in education. Unless we educate young people in this country about what opera is and how it can make you feel, we can't really expect audiences to yearn for anything more than a movie star who can sort of sing on pitch.
So, tonight I'm having a lovely dinner at home with yet another of my mezzo friends whose website I advertise stage right over there, Katherine Pracht, or Katy as she is known to me. Today was rather a bust of a day, since when I woke up this morning I discovered that my bathroom ceiling was leaking and had to call the super and several plumbers to come fix it. I was planning on spending the entire day studying music, but I got all self conscious when my bathroom was suddenly filled with dudes who were punching holes in my ceiling, and didn't feel like singing tritones a few feet away from them. I did my best to study, but when my dear friend Katy (who is making her debut at Avery Fisher Hall this week with the American Symphony Orchestra's performance of Scene's from Goethe's Faust) called to say that she was in the neighborhood, I screamed, "YES! Get over here and we can have a drink!!!" (since I couldn't very well leave the plumbers alone in here without me). We have basically been interviewing each other all night, and since she is a humble midwesterner, I knew she would balk at the the idea that I interview her for tonight's blog, so I asked her if she would interview me, and she agreed. So here goes - another mezzo on mezzo interview for you. Let's see what she wants to know!
Katherine Pracht: Where do you find the time to write, rehearse, perform, and travel, socialize - are you you burning the midnight oil?
Jennifer Rivera: That's a funny question because it makes it sound like I'm sooooooo busy, whereas sometimes I'm on the phone with Will or Georgia saying, "who are my friends again? I need somebody to entertain me because I'm bored." But I guess I'm one of those people that needs to always be "doing" something to feel satisfied, so I find things to fill my time when I'm not at rehearsal. But honestly, even if I'm on a gig, we only rehearse for maximum 6 hours a day - that leaves a lot of hours to fill! And then you're not even called every single day, and even if you have a couple of hours of music to study, that still leaves time for other stuff. I think it would be very different if I were married and had a couple of kids - that totally changes your time table. But as things are now, I usually feel like I have plenty of time for all the stuff I do that is not singing. I wish I had MORE responsibilities, usually. I need projects to be happy. Who knows what that says about me, but it's true.
KP: So when you feel like you're crossing things off your list, that invigorates you to do even more?
JR: I'm definitely more productive when I'm actually rehearsing - when I have free time I tend to not be able to organize it well, and suddenly it's 4PM and Oprah is on, and why the hell not, I'll just plop down and watch it. But when I'm working, that usually never happens.
KP: That's interesting - I tend to treat being on a gig more like a vacation and am more likely to watch Oprah at that point rather than when I'm between jobs. When you shut down completely what do you do?
JR: Well, here's the part of the interview where I admit that I watch television. I usually try to avoid telling anyone about that dirty little habit, but now that you can watch stuff like The Daily Show online, and you can download tv shows and movies off the internet (my favorites recently were Dexter and Mad Men) I have to admit that tv is a really easy way to totally turn your brain off after a day of concentrating. But I also can't watch too much or my productive self will get stir crazy, so one or two episodes on the internet is perfect for me. I have also been getting into photography lately, and taking pictures is a very different type of concentration that I have enjoyed. And obviously writing is cathartic for me. And also spending time with friends - that's a BIG thing that I NEED to do a lot of. And drinking. Wine. Lots of it.
KP: When you're ready to get back to work, what are your first steps to reinvigorate your career - do you update your website, write on your blog, learn new music, have a coaching, voice lesson, alexander lesson - what do you do?
JR: Wow, that's an interesting question.
KP: Thank you (laughs maniacally)
JR: Well, usually what happens for me is I go through a period of lethargy where I feel like a schlub, so when that's over, I get crazily productive - although it doesn't necessarily have to be career productive, I just have to be doing things that make me feel like I'm accomplishing something - anything. The first step is usually pestering my poor agents. Some weeks go by when I call them on the phone and say, "See? I waited until TUESDAY AFTERNOON to call you!!!" Do you know how long I have WAITED since Monday morning???" Also learning music is a good way to remind myself "Yes, you ARE a singer AND a musician!" But I have to say that writing on my blog has never seemed like a career enhancer - if anything, I worry that it's going to be bad for my career because I'm too stupidly honest.
KP: I find you spend a lot of your energy helping others, myself included. It's a rather sisterly way to approach people. You're an only child - do you think that contributes to your desire to help others?
JR: Wow. I'm really moved by that question. Well, I'm glad to know you think that about me. I think that my parents gave me an abundance of love and support as I was growing up, and that caused me to want to give that to other people. And I do think that I tend to "adopt" people as my siblings as a result of being an only child. But I think that the support I got from my mom and dad is what gave me the "strength of character" (if I can say that without sounding pompous) to be ABLE to want to look outside myself and feel like I have enough love to be able to give it away. That answer makes me sound like I'm patting myself on the back, but I mean to be patting my mom and dad. It should also be said that I choose my friends very carefully, so if I give love and support it's to a chosen few that I find really compelling and loving and giving themselves (you included KP). (Did you all barf yet?)
KP: You are a very positive and optimistic person, but also very pragmatic. Does one part of you win in a battle, and which part of you is stronger?
JR: God! These are SUCH interesting questions!!! I guess I have to say that my optimism probably wins out, and I don't always make the most pragmatic choices probably. I really believe that things happen for a reason, and work out the way they are supposed to, etc. If I didn't believe that, this would be a very hard career to pursue and understand. I feel like I'm getting more pragmatic as I'm getting older, and making more choices that weigh all the options (as opposed to just going on impulse as is my nature) but I hope that that optimism will stay in the forefront because being optimistic just seems like a kinder, easier way to exist.
So that's our interview for the evening. I have to say I think those were GREAT questions from my dear Katy (When I first sang Jo in Little Women, she was my sister Meg, and we have always had a sisterly relationship ever since). We are signing off for the evening, because we really need to go look at the hole in my bathroom ceiling one more time.
Katherine Pracht and Jennifer Rivera in Little Women with Lyric Opera Cleveland
Right now, as I am preparing my apartment for 4 months of absence, in addition to being entertained by the large naked man changing his clothes in front of his window directly across the street, I am also listening live to the Opera Now podcast. The boss and creator of the podcast, Michael Rice, worked at Caramoor with my best friend, which is how I first came to know about the show. It's just several funny, educated people sitting around talking about opera, and specifically the news from the world of opera for the week. The reason I like it is that while it's an educated discussion, it's not overly-intellectualized. So much of opera reporting, especially the way we view it in this country, is highly erudite and has a feeling of elitism. I like the idea that people can sit around and talk about opera in plain speech, make jokes about it when necessary, and can still make interesting commentary about what's going on today. Plus I support any person who finds a way to incorporate the word butthole into a discussion about opera.
But I'm freaking out a little as this week begins. I'm not entirely sure what I should be doing with myself knowing what I have coming up. First of all, because I'm singing my millionth Barber, I feel unsure about how much preparation I should be doing before I leave. As I have mentioned, I tend to be one of those people who always thinks I will be under-prepared, and then ends up being way over-prepared. I decided that I should have a coaching on Barber with my usual coach last week, just to check in on little things like the Italian double consonants and little bits of recit I didn't do in the last production. I was almost laughing at myself during the coaching because I didn't even need to refer to my score once. I think by now Rosina is officially in my blood. But I was also really enjoying singing the role yet again, because with a role so ingrained in my consciousness, I can find a ton of nuances with each new go at it. So I don't really need to be studying Rosina every day and night. But still, I feel weird not looking at the score incessantly knowing I'm about to start rehearsals. What can I say, I'm a freak.
Then there's the fact that I am also learning this world premiere for St Louis, The Golden Ticket. I won't be able to come back to New York after Portland because I go directly to St Louis to begin rehearsals, and since I haven't been in Portland in a long time, I'm not really sure what the coaching situation is there. So I have to hope there is a pianist who can work on the score with me, because with a modern opera I definitely need a few work-throughs with a pianist before I begin rehearsals to makes sure I am solidly aware of what's going on in the orchestra while I'm singing. So I'm trying to learn as much of it as I can this week and coach it a couple of times before going to Portland. And learning a new opera always stresses me out a little in the beginning. At first, I think to myself, "I will never, ever know how this goes." And then comes a turning point when I start to make sense of it all in my head, but until then, I feel like I can't even read music. That's the stage we're in right now.
Then there's the fact that I'm leaving for such a long time and I can't even imagine how I'm supposed to pack for 4 months. I just stand in my room, looking around at my closets and drawers, completely dumbfounded. In fact, that's what I was doing while listening to the podcast that I mentioned earlier. Just standing there, staring into my closets, and basically asking my clothes which ones wanted to see Oregon, St Louis, and Austria. I just want them to pick themselves so I'll have one less thing to worry about. If only.
Of course, these are all lovely problems to have. And even though I feel stressed, I quite like it. It's the good kind of stress. Oooh - the naked man in the window is back. Gotta love new york.
There was a post today in the New York Times Arts Beat culture blog about this kerfuffle going down in Italy where the soprano Daniella Dessi withdrew from a Traviata directed by Franco Zefirelli because he basically said " a woman of a certain age and plumpness is not credible in the character." Yikes.
I saw Daniella Dessi sing Norma in Bologna (in the same production from the youtube video of Kate from a few days back) and I have to say I thought she was totally a sexy lady! So I think the whole thing is bizarre, but it made me want to write a post about size and singing.
For me, my natural thinness is something I think I've actually had to overcome and find ways around. If you look around there are literally NO waify opera singers - I mean, the "thin like model" ones - although most singers are in shape and look healthy these days. But the really skinny girls who you want to yell "EAT" at when you see them wearing size 25 jeans are not prevalent on the operatic stage. Except for maybe a few really high, tiny coloraturas, I really can't think of any. And the ones that are on the thin side, still often have good-sized round rib cages. I can say from a personal point of view that my voice has definitely gotten richer, darker, and larger since I've gained 15 or so pounds in the last 10 years. And I feel really strongly that if I made a concerted effort to gain maybe 30 more pounds, I might be able to sound more like a Carmen. Not that to sound like a Carmen you have to be zaftig, but I think on my frame and with the voice I was born with, I would need a little more fat for it to beef up enough to sing that role. This may be a controversial thing to say, but I really believe that body size affects voice size.
And I've had some conversations with colleagues recently that lead me to believe I'm not the only one who thinks that. I have two different colleagues who made a concerted effort to gain weight when they felt that they had gotten too thin and were having trouble supporting their voices, and therefore weren't putting out enough sound. It's especially a problem if you're working in the States because we really value big voices here since so many of the theaters are so huge. In Europe it's much easier to get away with having a smaller voice and so maybe there are some waify singers over there that I haven't yet encountered.
I will say however, that I get SO annoyed that I want to go postal on people's asses when they meet me and say, "but how can you be an opera singer? You're not fat!!" I seriously want to hit them over the head with a sharp stick. But actually, that stereotype probably didn't come from nowhere, so I shouldn't be so impatient with those poor people. I don't really see myself Renee Zelweggering into Bridget Jones any time soon, so I'll have to be content with Cherubinos and Rosinas for now. But I certainly hope the opera world doesn't become as obsessed with weight as hollywood because I've seen some of those actresses in real life, and they seriously look STARVING. And opera singers need to at least be able to eat a big plate of spaghetti after singing. I mean, really.
Wow - thanks for all your nice comments yesterday after my little rant based on somebody's mean comment about me. You are all right, in that we must ignore things like that, not take them seriously, and not give them credence by writing entire blog posts about them. And by the way, I'm totally over it - I was only upset about it for like five minutes. But I have to say I'm glad I wrote the post for two reasons. First of all, it felt fabulous to get to respond to somebody saying something bad about me! I never really thought about it, but one of the reasons that it's difficult to get a bad review or criticism is that you just have to shut up and take it. Well, not me! I have a blog, and if somebody says something I don't like - guess what? I can scream and yell right back, and I tell you what, it's quite cathartic!
But the other reason I'm glad I wrote about it is that I think people in this business in general tend to do way too much categorizing of artists, and it's a dangerous habit. And when I say "people" I mean myself as well - I catch myself doing the "compare and judge" game, both with myself and with other singers all the time. I have blurted out to certain colleagues on more than one occasion, "Well, I don't know what you're worried about, you're having a WAY more important career than I am!" as if a career could be quantified, wrapped up in a little box and labeled, "important", WAY important" or "totally UNimportant, you freaking loser." It's ridiculous, and I should stop doing it - and I can thank my friend the "you're a nobody" commenter for reminding me of that.
As I mentioned in my post a few days ago, I went to listen to some live jazz the other night, something I'm embarrassed to admit I don't do nearly enough. I was totally mesmerized by the playing of both groups I heard, and I had the occasion afterwards to speak to one of the musicians about what it is to be a professional jazz musician. It's apparently shockingly difficult to make your living strictly from playing jazz unless you are quite a famous soloist who is touring around the world (and especially europe, which as with classical music, seems to contain a larger audience for musicians in general). He told me that the 16 piece band which played the first set I saw, and boasted some seriously talented soloists, each earned $25 for playing for about 4 hours. "But WHY do they do it then???" I asked incredulously. "Because they love it I guess," was the reply. Wow - no wonder listening to that music moved me so much - 16 really talented people, playing music for the sheer enjoyment of what they do? That's something.
And that conversation put all of this business with judgements and categorization into perspective for me. In the jazz world, you can be a really talented saxophonist, blow your horn with all you've got all night long, and walk away with just 25 bucks and some free drinks to show for it. But if you love it, you find a way to do it, and that's enough. In opera, we have all these organizations that are hierarchical, and therefore we instantly tend to categorize ourselves based on that hierarchy. But maybe we just need to ask ourselves; If the most you could get to sing this opera tonight was $25 and a couple of free beers, would you do it? And if the answer is yes, then screw the categorization and just enjoy the privilege of getting to do what you love. And enjoy the hell out of those beers.
A couple of days ago, when I did the interview with my friend Kate Aldrich, Opera Chic posted our interview on her blog as one of her daily items, and linked to my blog. Today I saw that there were 7 comments on her blog about that post, so I did something that was probably a bad idea, and went ahead and looked at the comments. It's always dangerous to look at blog comments because they are essentially anonymous and therefore could say absolutely anything. And I was right to want to avoid them because right there a few lines down were the following two comments : "Who ARE these two? followed by "Nobody. Not worth your bother."
OUCH! Nobody? Wow - it's amazing how one little word can be so incredibly hurtful. I mean, obviously Kate can't be a nobody - if you're singing Carmen at the Met and Rosina at La Scala and you're a nobody, then who the hell is somebody? So let's put that aside for a second and assume this commenter was talking about me. I mean, certainly compared to the major singers out there, I guess you could say I'm a nobody - in fact, I jokingly say it about myself all the time. I haven't sung at the Met or Scala, and who knows if I ever will? But I think that labeling an artist as a nobody is really a dangerous way to criticize them if you are an opera fan, which I'm assuming this person must be if they read Opera Chic.
I read an article recently that quoted Renee Flemming as saying that The Met is the top of the food chain for singers, which is probably quite appropriate. And if we're using the food chain analogy, then we have to acknowledge the fact that food chains can only exist when all the different levels exist - if you remove one of the levels, everything above it dies with it - they need each other to survive. The same is true for any artistic field, but let's take opera singers in particular. Without singers that weren't super famous, we wouldn't be able to have opera companies spread out everywhere - if the only opera companies which existed were the Met, Scala, Covent Garden, and Paris, then nobody anywhere else would be able to see opera, and the art form would have a difficult time sustaining itself. And famous singers only exist because they worked their way up there - they all spent time learning and growing by singing roles with smaller companies and becoming better artists.
Maybe he or she is suggesting I'm a nobody because they think I have no talent or nothing to offer as an artist, but even that is certainly a misnomer. Anyone who has a desire to share something artistic with the world has something to say, while their natural talent (and even more, their circumstances of being in the right place at the right time) might limit the context in which they are able to express themselves. But even someone who gives a recital with 12 audience members might be able to move someone to tears with what they are communicating. And in my book, that makes them somebody.
I know that every person who puts themselves in the public eye has to accept that they will receive criticisms of all different sorts. And thank god I'm not a hollywood actress who has to read about how someone thinks I'm too fat, or that my career is over, on the cover of a magazine in a grocery store. But I really believe that any opera fan who categorizes any singer as "nobody" should quickly reconsider what they might be doing to the art form by dismissing someone so cruelly. This kind of remark doesn't do anybody any good. Well, I don't know - did it make you feel better for a minute, faceless commenter? Because I think your minute might be up now. So I would like to suggest that you go do something productive, unless you want every member of this food chain to shrivel up and die. And I'm not saying this to you anonymously - I'm saying it as myself, Jennifer Rivera. Somebody.
Now, as I prepare to leave for Portland, I don't really have to spend too much time studying Barbiere. I will have a coaching on it, as I always do, just to make sure it's in tip top shape, and that I haven't gotten lazy about any of the italian double consonants, or forgotten a piece of recit here or there. But mostly what I'm doing is learning "The Golden Ticket" because I will go directly from Portland to St Louis, and I'm not sure there will be adequate time or available coaches to work with me in Portland. Some people learn new roles all on their own in front of their pianos, but my brain needs to hear the whole picture, and to take in what the orchestra is doing while I'm singing before I feel completely confident that I know it 100%. Plus, I tend to be something of an over-preparer who always thinks I'm not prepared enough. I have had more stress dreams about arriving to rehearsals unprepared, only to arrive and have someone comment on how well I seem to know my part. I am always amazed when there is someone who doesn't seem to know the score really well, because I would be utterly mortified if that were me. So it seems my ego keeps me on task, and forces me to learn my music. Oh well, whatever it takes.
I received a DVD recording of the workshop of "The Golden Ticket" that took place in New York last year, so I am fortunate enough to be able to hear the whole score before rehearsals start even though it's a World Premiere. I'm finding it really helpful to know what the oompa loompa music sounds like because I cannot get the "Oompa Loompa doompety doo" song from the movie out of my head. I also was really excited to find this video on youtube and to hear some of the orchestrations, because it's difficult to get a good sense about a score until you've heard the way it is orchestrated. I can tell that the piano reduction on the DVD doesn't do the score justice based on listening to this clip with orchestra:
And as for my role, I will be doing a lot of screaming and pouting, which frankly, won't be a big stretch for me.
I have a friend in town this weekend from Germany who is a huge jazz aficionado, so I'm going to be going to listen to a lot of music with her this weekend. It should be good for me, since I have all these "Golden Ticket" ear-worms in my head, and when I fall asleep at night, I hear "opening chocolate bars just for the wrappers" over and over (that's what my character makes the factory workers of her father's factory do so she can obtain her golden ticket). That part is really catchy. Hopefully a nice double bass solo will convince my brain to stop repeating that phrase.
Okay, I just reread everything I've wrote, and found it really formal in style. I think it's because I've consumed two glasses of wine already tonight, and I must have been trying to overcompensate by sounding intellectual. Give it up - just let yourself sound drunk. dsjoewfjoiwshogvh;owvgsho!!!!!!! There. Much more realistic. Cheers!
It's not purgatory - I like writing my blog. I really liked interviewing my friend Kate last night, and some of my entries where I thought I had nothing to say and just started writing actually ended up surprising me. But seriously - forcing myself to blog every day was a terrible idea. Now I've started putting it off and putting it off until well after midnight and then I drag myself to the computer, only to realize that I have absolutely nothing of interest to say. And then I think: how many more days did I tell myself I would do this?
Also, remember a couple of weeks ago when I was whining about the fact that I wasn't busy enough, and wished I could be working again right that second? Well, now that I am realizing that I leave in a week and a half, and will be gone for 4 months straight with no breaks, living in three different weather seasons, three different time zones, and two different countries, I am wondering WHAT THE HELL I DID WITH ALL THAT FREE TIME?? I guess I took a little vacation - that's okay I suppose. But now I am faced with packing up my apartment (sigh - I just painted and redecorated my bedroom, only to say goodbye to my cool new digs), and figuring out all the stuff I'll need for the next FOUR MONTHS!! I almost always get to go home in between gigs for at least a day, and three back to back gigs with no break in between is totally unheard of. And just what I've been wanting - so settle down Rivera, pack your boots and your sandals, your jackets and your tank tops, and a whole bunch of opera scores - and get back up into the saddle.
On a side note, my interview last night with Kate got me thinking about how I would answer the questions I asked her, and a big one for me is what roles I am totally dying to sing. The answer for me is; Oktavian in Rosenkavalier and Idamante in Idomeneo. I'm just putting that out there in the universe - I am willing ready and able to sing those two rascals, so bring it on world. Got it?
So, I'm trying something new and different tonight, because - why not? A very good friend of mine, who also happens to be my next door neighbor (literally, our doors are inches apart) is the wonderful mezzo Kate Aldrich. If you haven't heard of Kate yet, you will very soon. This season, she will be heard as Carmen at the Met (replacing Gheorghiu), Rosina at La Scala, Cenerentola in Pesaro, Carmen in Chicago, and Oktavian in Munich, just to name a few.
Kate and I worked together when we were recently out of school, and she also went to grad school with my best friend Georgia. But we reconnected a couple of years ago when we were both singing in Torino, and she really took me under her wing when I arrived, since she had already worked extensively in Italy, spoke fluent italian, and I was basically standing around looking like Eddie Murphy in "Coming to America." Since that time, her career has taken off to an even higher level, and I thought it might be interesting for you readers to hear the perspective of a singer on the brink of major stardom (she would be rolling her eyes if she heard me utter that phrase, but dude, it's true). Plus, she and I are so rarely in town at the same time, I thought it would be great to take advantage of this moment.
So we're going to format this blog post as an interview - and I am sitting in her living room right now (where you could drill a hole in the wall and see my living room) and asking her questions. However, she is recovering form a cold right now and trying to rest her voice, so even though we're in the same room, I'm asking her the questions out loud, and she's responding by sending me IMs on skype with her answers, which I am then cutting and pasting into this blog entry. Ah.....technology!!
Jenny: How old were you when you took your first voice lesson?
Kate: 16
Jenny: and when did you decide - for realz - that you wanted to be an opera singer.
Kate: I didnt really decide to be an "opera singer" until I was in college- and even quite a way through college. Actually in high school I was pretty into my rock band, and almost didn't go to college for singing because I didn't want to leave my band (before you ask- the name was Liquid Daydream...). I went to college with the idea that I could keep singing the art songs that I was working on in school, and keep singing in a choir, because that was what I had done classically up until then. When I was in college I had my first exposure to opera, and I was very resistant at first- I wanted to say that it was too much, over the top etc, but I think I was afraid of it because I knew it was going to rock my world completely. I was also singing in a jazz group, and almost went that route for a while.... By the time I went to grad school, I was thoroughly intrigued, and had the good fortune to have been accepted into the Handel Project at the Manhattan School of Music led by Will Crutchfield, and it was there that I learned the full spectrum of what might be possible in terms of music making and creativity and mastering the art form. Then I was hooked, and the more I did from that point on, the more I KNEW it was the only way that I could artistically express myself.
JR: What was your first BIG job and how did you get that job?
KA: My first big job was l'Arena di Verona. I was in my second year at the Pittsburgh Opera Center (what is now the Pittsburgh resident Artist program) and Mauro Trombetta, who was the artistic director of the Arena di Verona at the time was in Pittsburgh to give us master classes. He was interested in me, and asked me if I had ever looked at the opera la Forza del Destino... My inside voice was "what's il forzo del destino what? by who?" and my outside voice was "Of course I know of it, but I haven't ever looked at it..." he asked me to take a look, and so of course, in that way that only young artists can, I got the score 5 minutes before he even asked me about it. I looked at it, and it was really right for me. The next time I saw him, I told him that I had looked at it. He asked me what I thought of the role, and I told him that it felt really good in my voice. This was his response: "OK- so- my secretary will send you the details, but the performances are August 9th, 19th and 22nd. I will give you her number so you can be in touch with her...." I was blown away, and wondered if maybe something was lost in translation... In fact I didn't even fully believe it until I saw a few months later that my name was listed on the roster... I had no idea even what l'Arena di Verona was about... I asked my italian teacher if she had ever heard of it, and she laughed at me. I will never forget the first performance there, which was, basically my professional debut. I had to walk up a million steps and mix in with the chorus so the public didnt see me until I broke through to sing my first phrase.. I will never forget seeing the audience with all their candles getting lower and lower on my horizon as I walked up the stairs. It's one of my most vivid memories professionally to date... but then of course I forgot everything after the time that I began to sing in that opera!! Something about being picked up and swung around by a super, chorus members pushing me here and there, other cast members whispering where to go... I had never rehearsed with the supers, chorus, orchestra, or set, let alone on the stage...
JR: But obviously that was a success - and that lead to you spending a lot of time in Italy and becoming fluent in Italian (which I am completely jealous about, by the way). Okay, now talk about some of the big moments in your career thus far that you know were really turning points - that specifically changed things and lead to newer, bigger things
KA: The Aida with Zeffirelli (that Kate did soon after the Arena di Verona project) because I was just beginning my career and here was this opportunity to do something major, for DVD, for TV, with Zeffirelli, in an opera that I had never planned on singing, at least not for 15 years!!! It is very hard to explain how that job affected me and changed me, and the stresses that went along with it. how it was at times a dream, and at others really scary.... I think that Scott Piper and Adina Aaron (the Aida and Radames from the production) are the only people that can really understand what that was. In hindsight we were rock stars in Italy for a brief time, and part of something historical. It was so incredible to be able to work with someone like Franco Zeffirelli at such a young age. He taught us so much... From him I learned to take risks and then come back within the margins, also to put myself whole heartedly into the dramatic staging of the opera. I think a lot of what we were going through emotionally at that time is visible in that live DVD recording...
Operalia, and meeting Placido Domingo. The competition is incredible because not only do you get to sing for so many incredible judges, but you get to meet all these fantastic singers. So many people that I met that year are out and about singing all over the world. But the best thing was meeting Placido Domingo. He was really instrumental in getting my career started. After Operalia he invited me to Los Angeles Opera to sing Fenena in Nabucco, and then I returned for 2 other seasons, plus made my Washington Opera debut. I got to sing by his side twice, and be conducted by him twice. It is thrilling to watch him work, and fascinating to see that he gets nervous too!
Singing Norma at the Teatro Comunale di Bologna with Daniela Dessi and Fabio Armiliato (she did that the same year we were in Torino together, and I was actually able to see it!!! See youtube video below). I got the call 3 weeks before we were to debut. I was singing in Torino in Lucrezia Borgia, when my agent called to see if I "wanted" to sing the Norma in Bologna with Dessi and Armiliato and Pido. There was going to be a DVD. she was debuting in the role... I was thrilled- Adalgisa is one of my favorite roles, and I had never sung before in Bologna. From that one contract I have gotten so many others in Italy from Barbiere at La Scala to Maria Stuarda in Palermo, to Cenerentola in Pesaro.
The Benvenuto Cellini at the Salzburg Festival. I was called also very last minute to step in for Kasarova. I was in Tokyo at the time, and they asked if I could come in 3 weeks to sing the role of Ascanio. Of course I had never sung it, and of course I said yes on the condition that they let me go to the US to be at my sisters wedding. I COULDN'T believe it but they said yes. I had this amazing opportunity to sing a great role in a fantastic production by Phillip Stoelzl, and we got to make a DVD. AND I was able to be at my sisters wedding!!!
JR: Now that you're at the top level and singing places like the Met and Scala, how do you deal with the pressure? Do you read reviews, and if so, how do you internalize them and keep them from affecting how you feel about yourself?
KA: I would lie if I said I DON'T read the reviews-- but I try to take them with a grain of salt. If you read the good ones you have to read the bad ones. You can learn from them, but they can also be dangerous if you take them too personally, good or bad. It's hard to give a definitive answer other than to say that you have the "you" which is the musician, and then there is the "you" who is YOU. That is what you cannot lose sight of when reading any kind of reviews, good or bad, or getting a great job and feeling on top of the world... Having good friends and loved ones also helps, because they always remind you that it's your turn to do the dishes, or that you cant forget to call your brother on his birthday.
JR: What's your dream role that you haven't yet sung but really want to?
KA: Romeo in I Capuleti ed i Montecchi, Giovanna Seymour, Anna Bolena
JR: and what's your dream role that if there were no such thing as fach and voice type you would want to sing?
KA: I have a little bit of Norma and Tosca envy but I will never sing them as far as I can tell. Don Jose (Carmen), any male villain, Violetta in Traviata, and actually I would like a go at playing an ingenue. I haven't really done that. Like a really standard one- like Mimi or something like that...
JR: tell me (and the readers) one thing you like to do for fun that is weird (besides sitting in your living room and communicating with your next door neighbor via skype chat)
KA: cooking is my favorite thing to do on the road. Im a big fan of eating. and drinking. Im good at eating and drinking. I like doing crafty things, like knitting. Shopping, skyping, reading, biking (when the weather is good) yoga (my newest obsession), and just being a homebody.
Now we have to go because American Idol has been on pause this whole time and we need to see it. And also, we need to look at stuff on our own separate computers and not talk to each other - a typical night in an american household. Huge thanks to Kate for spending her evening sharing herself! I hope you all enjoy learning about this very interesting and down to earth artist!
When I started writing this blog two years ago, I honestly wasn't sure what would become of it or me. I don't even remember what possessed me to start writing it, because although I've always enjoyed writing, I was never someone who kept a journal, or who wrote anything down regularly. But I had a feeling that going to Italy was going to be sort of a life changing experience, and I knew that if I was writing something that was actually published on the internet that anyone could see, I would be more likely to try to make it somewhat eloquent and interesting. And oddly enough, it worked. I blogged nearly every day that I was there, it was a life changing experience, and the few people that were reading what I was writing at that point told me they enjoyed what I had to say.
Then the blog took on a life of it's own, especially after this past summer, when suddenly it received it's very own publicity. And then I realized that I had been writing regularly for nearly two years, and it was something other than singing that I had started developing a passion and identity for. In fact, for the first time this past winter, I started writing short stories and essays for no other reason than that writing had become a cathartic release for my creative energies. Plus I wanted to write down some stories and essays about my life that were (at this point anyway) too intimate to want to share with the entire world.
And now I can say with some certainty that I am officially a writer. Not a professional writer, not a published writer, but a writer nonetheless. Which is oddly liberating, because if you asked me what I "WAS" at any moment prior to this realization, I would have said that I was a singer, and that's all. Being a singer had become so all encompassing that I couldn't see myself as anything else. Of course, I had always been a daughter, a friend, a girlfriend, a teacher, a student - but the one thing that always defined me was my singing. I honestly never did any other single activity for any length of time. Sometimes having only one major thing that defines you can be a blessing - I certainly knew what I wanted to do with my life and for my career well before many of my peers, and this knowledge gave me a lot of confidence and assurance. But the problem with having one thing that defines you is that it's impossible to be defined by just one single thing during every moment of your life. And when that one thing is brought into question, when you're no longer sure if that one thing can define you - well, it can be a searing moment of disillusionment and even despair. In fact, you realize that letting just one thing define who you think you are is actually incredibly dangerous and certainly disappointing,
It's not that blogging allowed me to say, "aha! I'm not just a singer, I'm also a writer!!!" But it did allow me to realize that I am actually many things. I have capabilities to do things I didn't ever imagine, which means there are probably a lot of other things I could create and accomplish as well. It made me realize that any attempt to define the essence of who I am by something I do only serves to limit the possibilities of all the things I'm actually capable of. Am I a singer? Yes. Am I a writer? Yes. Am I an astronaut? Well, not yet, but nothing is impossible.
It was reported in the NY Times this week that a single donor is giving the Metropolitan Opera 30 million dollars with no restrictions. They don't have to do a specific production or name a wing after anybody, they can just have it and do with it as they please. That's a lot of frigging dough. My first thought was 30 MILLION DOLLARS!!! CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT CITY OPERA COULD DO WITH 30 MILLION DOLLARS?????? I can't help it, I'm an underdog supporter by nature, and I spent a few evenings of my life singing up a storm in that "other" theater that is not the Met, so my heart goes out to them when their big brother next door gets such a big donation. The scary thing about the Times article was that Peter Gelb said "it's not enough to save us" because the Met is having big financial problems. I thought YIKES when I read that - if the Met is having such financial problems that a sum like that doesn't put a dent in things, we should all be worried about where things are headed.
I've been thinking about what I would do if I had 30 million dollars to burn. I would certainly want to support some arts organizations, so kudos to the donor for putting her money where her mouth is. But what about starting a new, smaller opera company somewhere in or around New York City? Or putting the money into re-opening one of the struggling opera companies that had to close in the last couple of years because of the economic downturn - like Opera Pacific or Baltimore Opera? Or creating a new arts organization in a community in the U.S. that has none? Or - and this is a big passion for me - starting a huge educational program to get more arts in the schools - that's our future audience, and the only way we can hope to have arts in this country continue to thrive!
Or taking the money and retiring in Tahiti? These are all very valid possibilities.
But the funny thing is, I don't think I would stop singing. They always say that if you won a huge amount of money in the lottery and you would still keep your job, you must be doing the right job. So I guess I'm okay for now. But one day I would LOVE to RUN an opera company, and a huge windfall wouldn't hurt my chances. So universe, if you're listening; please send me 30 million dollars. I promise not to spend it all in once place.
The reason that I'm only just now getting today's post in, well after midnight, is that I was out all night dancing at a Rave. Just kidding. I was actually attending a high school musical in Saratoga Springs, NY. But the fact that I said I was attending a Rave just totally shows that I am now totally an old lady.
When I sang one of my first professional Cenerentolas almost 10 years ago at Lake George Opera, I was lucky enough to have been placed in the carriage house of this really nice family who had two little daughters, who were I think 5 and 8 years old at the time. They would come knock on the door to my little apartment above their garage every day, and while their parents kept telling me, "we can tell them to stop if they're bothering you!!" the opposite was true. I've always felt a huge connection to children, especially little girls, so their daily visits were absolutely brightening my days there. And I developed a great friendship with that family, and have watched their adorable little girls grow up into poised and beautiful young ladies. Tonight Kate, who is now 17 (!!!!) and looking into possibly majoring in voice in college (!!!!!!!!) was performing in her high school musical, and I was lucky enough to receive an invitation. She has become an incredibly articulate, poised, thoughtful young lady, and I was very proud of her up on that stage tonight.
Watching the musical (It was "Bells are Ringing") got me thinking about the tradition of musicals in high schools. For me, having the chance to be in the choir, the musicals, and all things music and drama nerdy were my saviors, and what allowed me to have any social life whatsoever. But the high school musical also seems to bring the entire school together, as well as their parents, for a shared night of singing, dancing, and fantasy. For that night, kids who otherwise might not be the most socially acceptable or popular get to feel shiny, bright, and loved by everyone. Plus no one ever leaves the high school musical in anything other than a good mood. It's a really nice tradition we have here in the U.S. - but it made me wonder; what is the equivalent in European high schools? Schools in France, Italy, and Germany certainly don't perform musicals every year at their high school, so what do they do to bring together the nerds, the jocks, and the drama weirdos for one social status-free night? Do they all get together and sing the Bach Magnificat? It just wouldn't be the same as everybody walking out of the theater whistling "when you're a jet, you're a jet all the way." I'm always going on and on about how great everything is in Europe, but tonight reminded me that we have some good stuff here too.
Oy. Whoever told me they thought I should try blogging every day (Dad) may have had a higher estimation of my brain than is accurate. Trying to think of things to write about every day when I'm not in rehearsals OR a foreign country is really a challenge. I totally need to put my thinking cap on, and let's face it folks, I'm lazy by nature. Sure, I'm happy to blog when the fancy strikes me, but I'm not sure I have enough deep thoughts to put into the world every single day.
That being said, I remember some time ago I was reading Joyce DiDonato's blog, and she had written an interesting entry about different trouser roles that she had sung or would be singing, and how their characters differed. That was actually the one time I commented on her blog, begging her to pleeeeeeeease write an entry about the character of Rosina, because she is obviously THE expert and her Rosina is incredibly charming.
Well, I'm about to go sing my 275th Rosina (I'm exaggerating, but it seems like a lot) and it will be the first of three different Barbiere producitons I will sing this year. So tonight I'm going to put my thinking cap on about Rosina. I might have written some stuff on this subject last time I sang her, but I can't be bothered to go through my whole history and check, and unfortunately I never got into tagging my blog entries, so if you're one of the 3 people who read my blog before this year and I'm repeating myself, I apologize in advance.
Rosina is tricky. She can be really unlikeable in that same way that Norina (Don Pasquale) can be unlikeable if you aren't careful. It's a ridiculous double standard really, because it's so easy to apply the word BITCH to a strong woman and dismiss her. But it's just the way it goes, and I've both been in and seen many a Barber production where the Rosina comes out to bow, and even if she sang like a goddess, the audience is like......crickets.....crickets........ And then Figaro comes out to bow after her, and they're like "AAAAAAAAAAA!!! BRAVO FIGARO!!!! WE LOVE YOU AND YOUR CRAZY ANTICS!!!" It's depressing frankly.
So how to make the character of Rosina somebody that the audience cares about? I think it all sort of hinges on how you decide to perform Una Voce Poco Fa, her first aria. It's tricky, because it's basically Rosina's first real entrance, and the aria isn't exactly easy, and you're always nervous. But I think it's important to capture a few nuggets of her personality in that first scene; First; her girlish and genuine infatuation with the Count. That's something you can portray in the beginning of the aria. She can't seem too knowing or too grown up in that part - she should be like a love struck teenager, genuinely thunderstruck by this handsome dude that's been lurking outside her window singing her love songs. I choose to sing that first part rather simply. Then, of course, we have to see her cunning, and her willingness to manipulate. But in the fast part, instead of playing the "I become a viper" of the text as bitchy, insolent, and therefore un-charming, I think it's fun to play her sexy, womanly nature - to show the innocent crush of the beginning of the aria maturing into her demonstration of what she thinks it means to be an adult woman, in touch with her sensuality, vitality, and charm.
After Una Voce, I think her relationship with Figaro is another important aspect of her character. She's not just buddies with Figaro - most likely, the two of them would end up together if their social stations permitted. So the duet with him should remain extremely flirtatious and again, Rosina should be demonstrating her ability to charm the pants off anyone.
I know for a fact that one of the challenges for me in playing this role is that a) I'm an extremely strong woman from 2010, and it's very easy for me to play her too forcefully like, "Shut up you dumb men or I'll pull out my paddle and spank all of you," and b) I play pants roles so often, I can float out of the feminine and into the masculine way too easily. I was lucky enough to have one particular director, my friend Scott Parry, who was able to call me out on these things, and who really challenged me to go against my personal instincts and make her something other than what I was used to. And boy did I argue with him! After the first dress rehearsal when he told me I was still not feminine enough, I totally shouted in his face, "WELL, MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE HIRED SOMEONE WHO IS 5'9" AND WHO PLAYS BOYS A LOT THEN." But I took the note, and by the time the opening rolled around, I seemed to have uncovered a new dimension of her character that I hadn't really been tapping into before. And when the review came out in the L.A. Times, Scott got to say, "Seeeeeeee? Maybe you won't yell at me next time I give you a note...." because it said:
"Mezzo-soprano Jennifer Rivera was a fascinating Rosina -- sufficiently opulent and agile in voice; wily, brainy and pert in manner but also carrying herself at times with a dignity that suggested the future Countess of the second "Figaro" play, "The Marriage of Figaro."
Which brings me to the third aspect of her character that Scott pointed out to me, and which I agree is very important; the fact that she becomes the Countess in The Marriage of Figaro. We all know that character well, and that she is so dignified and regal - and Rosina in Barber needs to suggest what will occur in her very near future. Which sucks, because then you have to acknowledge the fact that the Count, who is so sweet and into her during this opera, becomes the asshole baritone who is trying to get into the other soprano's pants during the entire next opera. Oh well, we'll always have the memories of when you were a tenor and were still nice. Which is probably one of the few times I will utter that sentence. Am I right people? I'm totally kidding - almost without fail, some of the nicest singers I have worked with have been the tenors playing Almaviva with me (Brian Stucki, John Tessier, Brian Downen - there aren't a lot of nicer singers than those guys really).
Okay, I've blathered on enough about her. Hopefully I can make the people in Portland, OR like me a little bit. Or maybe in the opposite direction, we'll do a production where I actually get to spank people or something. That could be fun too.
I have absolutely nothing to say today. Some days are just like that. Instead, here's a video of me singing. I love writing, but as they say; Don't quit your day job:
This is the love duet from the world premiere of Elmer Gantry (Nashville Opera) with Keith Phares as Elmer and yours truly as Sharon Falconer. Fun fact; Keith was actually my college boyfriend. Luckily, we have remained friends all these years since, otherwise doing this scene would have been AWK-WARD. When I was pulling this from youtube, I noticed that one of the comments asked whether this was the same Jennifer Rivera who runs the blog. Yes. It's me. Thank god there are no other singers who share my exact name. I mean, except that Puerto Rican pop singer Jenni Rivera who made the sex tape. I want someone to comment on one of her youtube videos asking if she writes a blog. Now that would be awesome.
Elmer Gantry was composed by Robert Aldridge with libretto by Herschel Garfein. www.elmergantryopera.com
