Working / Cold

I said to someone recently that I have not ever worked as hard as I am now here in Lille.

I think between my work-aholism and an adventurous and intensely fun visit with Jeremy this weekend, I’ve pushed myself a little too hard, as I now find myself at home with a nose that is running like a faucet.

My comment about working so hard wasn’t a complaint, actually. I have really been enjoying toiling away on this role, because it is the scariest thing that I will ever sing. It is high, it is fast, it is slightly uncomfortable, and it is a lot of singing. Technically, it requires me to walk a very narrow tightrope in order to pull it off, all the while trying to be expressive and run around on stage. Working diligently on it everyday both in my practice room and in rehearsal is how I deal with my fear. It’s a great feeling to confront my fear – it’s like lifting a fog that pervades my mind, and I see more clearly and proceed more confidently with every step I take. As the days go by, I find that I am learning to enjoy myself as I negotiate the technical traps that riddle the piece – my fear begins to give way to fun.

The most enjoyable aspect of rehearsal has been getting to rehearse in the theater itself. Oftentimes, either for expense or budgetary reasons or simply because the theater has so much going on, rehearsal time in the theater is severely limited. Oftentimes we only get about five or six rehearsals in the theater itself, and we spend almost a month in the rehearsal room. Here, we have the opportunity to have almost a month of rehearsal time in the theater, on the real set, with our real props. It is great to be able to get to know both the physical space of the set and the theater’s acoustic so well, especially because the theater here is such a gem.

Now I wish my cold would hurry up and go away so I can get back to working this music into my body and voice.

*The top picture is a picture of the exterior of the opera house in Lille. The second picture is the view from my dressing room (which is also functioning as my practice room while I am here).

Stepping on Out

Today is National Coming Out Day.

Oddly enough, my mind has been on the subject of coming out a lot lately. One of the ways I’ve had of occupying my alone time here in Lille has been to watch various coming out/gay storylines from a couple of British and American soaps on YouTube (cheesy, I know, but it passes the time). Frankly, I wish in some ways that my coming out had occurred a bit more like those storylines – beautiful guys coming out to parents who quickly deal with their issues about homosexuality and reassure them that they love them no matter what, and then finding beautiful boyfriends shortly thereafter, sometimes helping them come out in their own turn. Not that my own story is so awful…I was just chubby with a waistline that was 5 or 6 inches bigger and there were no potential boyfriends (beautiful or not) in sight. Still, I had so much to be grateful for.

I came out in 1995, when I was 16 years old. Early in the year, I confided my attraction to members of the same sex to my good friend Emily during our free period, because I just couldn’t bear to keep it a secret any longer. She kept my secret for me and was the first positive influence I had in regards to my sexuality. Later that summer, I came out to the rest of the world. While at Interlochen, I met a fellow camper who I had a crush on. When I realized that he was openly gay, I found the courage to come out fully myself.

When I arrived back at school in the fall, I found that it had actually earned me a bit of respect, much to my surprise. I think it was a combination of being lucky enough to be in a liberally minded environment where bigotry of any kind was not tolerated and the newfound confidence and happiness I found in just being honest about myself. The friends that I made and became close with that year have become like extended family to me. It was the first time that I had a group of friends in my life, actually.

When I was in college, I worked up the courage to come out to my parents, which was not the most pleasant experience. They had a really hard time with it – they mostly felt betrayed and lied to, I think. I think it hurt them deeply that they were among the last people to find out. The night I came out to them was one of the scariest I’ve ever had to endure, but even then, I had those same friends out in the car, waiting in the sub-zero weather to make sure that I was ok. I wasn’t ok that night, and they took me back to my apartment after the fighting with my parents became too much to bear, and they tried to comfort me and support me in my time of need. I’ll never forget my friend Erin saying to me that they thought I was perfect exactly as I was and that they loved me no matter what. Never had I needed to hear those words more.

Over time, my relationship with my parents has improved, and while it is still an awkward subject for us, I am able to communicate with them honestly, allowing us to have any sort of relationship at all – one that heals and grows each day.

Thinking back on coming out, I realize it is a process that is never fully finished. I will continue coming out to various people everyday for the rest of my life – there are always situations I encounter where I wonder if people know. It takes courage, and I am shocked when I realize that sometimes I am still afraid. Then I think back on those earlier years, and I see that there has always been someone there for me to support me, hold my hand, and to tell me it’s ok. I hope and wish that other people are able realize the same thing as they struggle with their journey out of the closet.

Seul

I fight a tough battle with loneliness on every gig that I travel for. I’ve been lucky during the past year – almost every place I’ve worked recently has either involved colleagues that I already know or has been in a city where I have friends that I can catch up with. Lille is the first new place that I’ve been where I don’t know anyone in a long time. I also am going to be here in France until the end of December, so I feel like I’m staring down a very long tunnel, where the light at the end is still very faint. This time it feels pretty overwhelming.

Mornings are the worst for me, but once I get my morning pages written and get out the door to rehearsal where I can immerse myself in work, it’s better. Then I have the treat of being able to call Jeremy in the evenings before I go to sleep and start the cycle all over again.

The thing is (and that I have to keep reminding myself), I am not totally alone. I am so lucky to be loved by so many family, friends, and Jeremy.

Still, I wish they were here.

Bzzz...

You never know what is going to greet you when you arrive in a new place, and unlock the door to the housing that’s been arranged for you at any given gig. During my last Frankfurt gig, it was a lovely rubber ducky. Here in Lille (where Fall’s chilly grip has already taken hold), I was greeted by some lovely turquoise furniture from Ikea and a bunch of mosquitoes.

I opened up my closet door and five swarmed around, disturbed by the clatter. I’ve killed about 25 of them in the last two days. It’s disgusting, frankly.

I asked to be moved this morning, and was told it was not possible – apparently they are full. They promised me a mosquito “trap”, but it never arrived. You could say that I’m less than pleased. I plan on paying the front office a second visit tomorrow morning to complain again. Ahh…what better way to exercise my French skills? Always looking for that silver lining…

Otherwise, my first day of rehearsal went pretty well, considering my jetlag. I was nervous for the “first day of school”, as usual – this role is the most difficult one I’ve sung so far, so that didn’t help the butterflies. I was relieved to have a good beginning today and to find that all of my colleagues are very nice people.

West Side Story - The Beginning or Part Deux

Obviously, I was not on vacation for the entirety of the last six weeks. Would have been cool if I had, right?

Well, maybe I was on vacation the last six weeks. I mean, I certainly wasn't working, and there were three cloudy, wet, yet incredible days at the beach with some wonderful friends. Either way, it certainly didn’t feel like a vacation. I feel like I’ve spent the last six weeks packing and unpacking repeatedly. Not so different from the normal routine, although this time it involved all of the belongings in our apartment - not just my standard two suitcases.

The major event in the last six weeks is that we moved (back) to New York. I say “back” parenthetically, because I did a stint at Manhattan School of Music before I moved to Texas. Jeremy has never lived in New York before. Therefore, the parenthesis.

The move involved multiple trips from DC, where Jeremy was working for the summer, and then a trip to Houston to load the moving van, and then an unloading session at our new place. After that, we swam through a lot of packing peanuts, cardboard boxes, newsprint, moving blankets, and paint fumes until our place was put into some sort of order.

We are now happily ensconced in the Upper West Side in a place that we are both incredibly happy with. It is cozy, warm, size-able, with a wonderful kitchen (which I thought I would never find in Manhattan), and we are overjoyed with it.

And now that we are finally finished unpacking and have started to feel settled into our new place, I just packed up my bags again yesterday and hit the road again…this time for four months with one evening at home in the city right before Christmas. Leaving felt much more intense this time…I guess that means that I really did settle right back into my new/old home this past month.

Vacation

I'm on vacation as of now...I'll be back shortly.

Back to reality

The weather is rainy and grey here in Cologne, where I am about to begin rehearsals for my concert at the Rheingau Music Festival this weekend. I look out the window and the heavy, bleak sky and see my mood reflected in the heavens.

After six weeks in the idyllic, isolated intensity of Marlboro, I feel like I have been born again, in a way. Delayed for four hours at the airport in Boston on Monday afternoon, I felt like I had been dumped out of a warm, safe, womb-like place into the harsh elements of reality all over again. After being constantly surrounded by such wonderful people for weeks, the loneliness that comes with my livelihood on the road feels much more overwhelming than it has felt in a long time. It has not been a very nice feeling.

I think that part of the problem was that I had to leave a week early from the festival, and so I was robbed of a sense of closure. My goodbyes were rushed at breakfast on Monday morning, and I only got to say goodbye to the people who happened to have early morning rehearsals and were therefore awake that morning. Also, the sense that things there were going to go on without me after I left was not a pleasant one.

I’m surprised how much I find myself missing the new, intensely close friendships I made up in Vermont and our relaxed evenings after long days of rehearsal in which we played hearts and gin rummy, discussing our lives, music, and the day’s gossip. I never expected to form such close bonds with people so quickly, and I am as grateful for them as for the incredible musical experience I had there. I now feel like I didn’t quite get enough time with them, and I find myself wondering and worrying about how well we will all stay in touch when dealing with the challenge of stepping back into our real world lives. I hope that these new friendships will grow through this next step easily, and that we will see each other with frequency and remain in close contact. This is a plus of moving back to New York City, I guess – we will all be in close proximity to each other.

I am grateful that most of the time that I am Germany, I am staying with my good friend, Nadine (who is helping me ease through this transition back to reality), and that I am not alone in a hotel room this week. That would have been unbearable.

To my friends in Marlboro, many, many thanks for one of the best summers I’ve had, and I wish you the best for your last days of the festival. I hope the final concerts go well and that your transitions back to the real world are as easy as they can be.

The beginning of the end

Today marks the beginning of my last week here in Marlboro, and I find that I am sad to see the end of my time here approach. I have three concerts this weekend, in which I will perform one Stravinsky piece and two Schumann pieces. The week promises to be intense and will probably fly by at lightning speed.

I am struck by how much it seems that I was meant to be here this summer. The opportunity to be here sort of fell into my lap – in many ways, the choice made itself apparent. Of course I could easily have said no when the opportunity was offered, but that small, insistent voice inside me was telling me to accept. I am so glad that I did. I really had no idea what to expect from my summer here, but I have had nothing short of a mind-blowing experience. I have learned so much here and been recharged in so many ways on top of making some wonderful new friends. It’s been a real lesson in the value of taking a leap of faith – great things are meant to happen to us, and so much is to be reaped if one is open to it.

Maybe now I’ll stop worrying quite so much about the future…

Friends and a Wedding

I ducked away from Marlboro this weekend to see one of my best friends get married. Our friendship started because we had neighboring lockers for seven years while growing up in Ann Arbor, and over time, she and her family have become to feel like extended family to me. It was an event that I had blocked out on my calendar for almost 18 months, and I was not going to miss it.

It was a truly joyous occasion, filled with all of the emotion and intensity that such events provide. The best part about weddings is that they are a chance to reunite and celebrate with loved ones, and most of my closest and best friends from my youth in Ann Arbor were present. Sitting at my dinner table after the ceremony, listening to toast after toast and watching slideshows of embarrassing photos from our pasts, I felt my eyes water as my heart surged with gratitude and pride for my friends. People who are friends for life are rare and precious, and these guys have been there for so many milestones and changes. We continue to grow together as we talk each other through our career beginnings and changes, our pregnancies, our first children, our weddings, and our advanced degrees. I am so proud of each and every one of these people, who are out there accomplishing great things and trying to make our world a better place either through dealing with the present, trying to understand ourselves better through the past, or envisioning a better future.

Weddings are always bittersweet for me, because it is such a heterosexually-based and tradition-saturated ritual. With all of the intellectual debate and political furor over the issue of gay marriage, the emotional reality of the subject gets lost. During the reception on Saturday, I looked over at Jeremy and saw a surprised joy in his eyes that he was so included by my friends and their families in the event and that they have truly come to regard him as one of the clan. I also saw the sadness in his eyes that his family will never be able to celebrate our union in any way whatsoever. His parents refuse to meet me to this day. It is painful for me to think that I am not even sure how my own parents will deal with such a public affirmation and celebration of our relationship and commitment to each other. When confronted with tuxedos, white gowns, teary-eyed parents filled with pride, and three-tiered cakes wedding cakes, it is hard to avoid having such thoughts creep in to the mind and mix in with the joy and happiness that I feel for my loved ones who are celebrating their vows.

To the bride and groom (who we also have come to adore as one of the clan), I wish all the best for an incredibly beautiful future together. And to my friends from home, I am so grateful for our friendships and our time together, and I am so proud of all that you do – you are incredible people and we are lucky to be loved by you.

A Haven

The first concert of the summer here at Marlboro was tonight. It was an informal evening of music in the dining hall, complete with two trios and a performance of Les nuits d’été, and it was incredible. It was amazing to watch people enjoy themselves so much making music at such a high level. For the ninety minutes of the concert, I sat and was grateful that I have the privilege to be here this summer.

My time here so far has been day after day full of inspiring musical moments. Whether in rehearsal for one of my own pieces or watching a reading of a piano concerto or simply walking on the campus here hearing bits of other groups’ rehearsals, my mind is in a state of continuous expansion. The emphasis of this place (and what makes it so special) is on rehearsal and not on performance, and even though there are concerts, many of the pieces we explore here don't actually get performed. As a result, rehearsal time is practically unlimited.

It is so great to have this incredible opportunity to immerse myself in rehearsal, study and practice, to have the time to iron out and explore the details, to be able to ask questions of my incredible colleagues, and to be surrounded by people who all share the same passion for the precept of music for music’s sake.

This is the sign that greeted us as we arrived at the festival, and it continues to display itself proudly at the top of the hill that is the heart of the campus. It is such a luxury to get to play, instead of stress, worry, obsess, and cram. It is so easy to forget that music is serious fun, and not a stuffy, elitist profession.

Beverly Sills

I was saddened to read the news that Beverly Sills died last night...She was an inspiring presence in our world, and a true trailblazer in so many different ways. I hope that more artists will look to her passionate, determined, and at the same time graceful singing and leadership as things to emulate. The NY Times has a tribute here.

Arrival at Marlboro

After arriving back in the states roughly two weeks ago, I was knocked out by a stomach bug that had me in bed for about a week. That left me with a week to start learning the music I was to begin working on here in Marlboro, to stress out about how to financially deal with moving to New York City sometime this summer, go to a wedding in Fort Collins, visit with Jeremy and some friends at Wolf Trap (where they have begun a highly entertaining run of John Musto’s comedic opera Volpone - all the best to cast for the run of the show - and I had the pleasure of finally meeting ACB, who is truly a lovely and special person and musician), spend some quality time with some very close friends from home who live in DC, and repack my bags for my next stint of travel (six weeks at Marlboro and a week back in Germany). Now, my two weeks off feels like it was a five minute coffee break.

Happily, Jeremy is on a mini-break from Wolf Trap and was able to come up with me here for the first ten days of the festival, allowing us some much needed quality time together.

I arrived in Marlboro Sunday evening, and it was like hitting a brick wall. It is so peaceful, lush and beautiful out here. We are surrounded by so little, and all there is to focus on is music and the nature around us. After traveling through so many fast paced, big cities over the last 2 years performing a staggering amount of new repertoire or auditioning (Houston, Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Frankfurt, Paris, London, St. Louis, Memphis, Washington, DC), being in this remote, quiet, small place that centers itself around the idea of making music for music’s sake feels like I’ve gone from driving a speedy 80 miles an hour to staggeringly slow 5. While I was shocked by the change in lifestyle and pace, I am finding myself totally reinvigorated and inspired to work in a way that I have not been since being an undergraduate student at the University of Michigan, when everything felt new.

Photo by Jeremy Frank

Layover

Rather than do something productive during my layover here in Detroit (like reply to all the emails in my overflowing inbox), I've decided to play with the blog a little. I just recently discovered this whole "new Blogger" business, and the new toys it provides. It's provided the most amusing diversion this last half hour.

Let me know what you think - I'm not really married to this, but I think I kind of like it. But I need objective opinions to be sure. Just be nice - it is a picture of me, after all.

Flight

Tonight's Ariodante was an incredible send-off. Everyone was in good voice and really on point tonight, and the audience was the biggest and most responsive we have had yet. It was immense fun!

Of course this means that my experiment of "daily" posts (I was almost successful!) has come to an end. The thing that I've learned is that I really enjoy forcing myself to write, even when I don't want to. In the end, I always feel like it's a rewarding endeavor. So, I will try to keep my posts more frequent from now on...I'm sure I'll lapse at some points as this adventure continues, but everything goes through it's ups and downs. Either way, I am going to make more of an effort to stay regular, so to speak.

In the meantime, if you are interested in reading more about other singer's adventures in Europe, check out my friend Ryan's blog, OperaDaddy. He is posting daily right now as he represents the US at the Cardiff Singer of the World competition these next couple weeks. It's a really exciting experience (I got to represent the States back in 2003), and his insights into it all are quite fun to read.

Off to bed now and then to the states tomorrow...

Getting ready to go

I successfully avoided packing a single thing today. This means that I will have to pack tomorrow, but it will be a good way to kill time and relax at home before the final Ariodante tomorrow night.

It’s a good sign when I’m reluctant to leave a gig. It generally means that I’ve really enjoyed myself, which is always the hoped-for goal.

I always love my time here in Germany, which shocks so many people when I say that. They always ask me, “Isn’t Frankfurt boring?” or “How can you stand the Germans?” or other equally obnoxious things. I love it here. Life is relaxed, the city of Frankfurt is close to everything and has a lot of charming places to eat and hang out, you can walk everywhere, the cities and the countryside are lush and green, and Germans are truly lovely people. They take care of their land and are very respectful and genuine in nature. I also love singing over here because I really feel like my music-making is appreciated. That always helps a singer feel an affinity for a place.

The other aspect that I am sad about is putting Lurcanio to rest for awhile. I really love singing this music – every time I get a gig to sing Handel, I have the distinct feeling that my dreams are coming true. He is my favorite composer. Plus, I have waited a long time to perform this role – I covered it my first year in the Houston Grand Opera Studio and have been anxiously waiting for the chance to actually perform it ever since. So this run of shows has been doubly exciting for me in that regard. I hope it is not too long before I get to sing his exciting and beautiful music again.

All this said, I am really looking forward to coming back here in a couple months for more Handel – Jonathan in Saul at the Kloster Eberbach as a part of the Rheingau Musik Festival – and to five weeks of what promise to be amazing chamber music making at Marlboro in between now and then.

Blind Flying

I’m honestly not sure why I do this, but I have it set up so that I receive my daily and weekly horoscopes sent to me by email every morning. Perhaps it’s because some part of me believes it’s true, or maybe it’s just that it’s fun to fantasize that the stars and planets will align, and that it will all have something to do with me. Either way, I get a kick out of them normally, and they are fun aspect of my morning emails.

Today, the following was waiting for me in my inbox today:

“Don't get ahead of yourself by trying to figure everything out just now. In both your business and your personal life, you could still be flying a bit blind.”

The phrase, “flying blind”, really appealed to the catastrophic side of my soul, and I thought to myself, what awful thing is going to happen to me now? I immediately gravitated to the danger and the terror of the expression. Then I realized that perhaps it’s not such a bad thing. Sure, “flying blind” is risky and scary because of all the unknown factors, but unknown and unexpected aren’t always bad things. Sometimes good news is unexpected, too.

I hope to be flying with clear vision soon, though.

Missed again

I am totally amused that I am completely incapable of managing to write a post everyday for two weeks. Yesterday just got caught up with social events, and now the day is gone, with no post. I feel like a bad parent. Like I said, time always feels like it folds in on itself and like I never have enough of it as I near the end of a gig...

Off to Cologne today to visit Nadine and use up the last day of my Eurail pass. I'll try to be back with another post later tonight.

After the break

Ariodante 3 happened today, and it was quite the adventure. Six days had lapsed since the last performance, and trying to remember what came next was scary at times. My brain is running out of my ears now, between standing on stage for practically the entirety of the four hour show (ah...opera in Germany...) and frantically trying to remind myself what to do when. Judging from the audience reaction, it was a good show, nonetheless, and they seemed to enjoy themselves. The show was a great exercise in staying in the moment, to say the least.

Friends

I've basically spent the last couple of days catching up with friends who live in the area. Aaron, my friend who lives in Heidelberg, gave a beautiful performance of Dover Beach Thursday night, and afterwards we went out and celebrated with some of his colleagues at the opera there. Today, my friend Nadine came down from Cologne to hike around Frankfurt with me for the day. We ended up having a lot of fun with my camera, taking lots of pictures. I always seem to take a lot of pictures when I am here in Germany, bringing out some sort of photographer that I never knew existed inside me. As lonely as all of the travel that this profession seems to require can be, I feel really lucky that I am able to see my good friends all over the world with some sort of regularity.

Ariodante number 3 is tomorrow...Our one and only matinee.

Oops...

My apologies for missing yesterday's post...I actually sat down to write it at one point yesterday, but decided that cleaning up my apartment was a more pressing matter for my psyche. And then, before I knew it, it was today. I'll put up another post later today to try to make up for it. I really am enjoying this little experiment, and I would like to keep it up for the period that I committed to.