Das Rheingold; the low-down

Yesterday, Lisa, her sister, and I went to the Indianapolis Opera to see their semi-staged performance of Wagner's Das Rheingold, the first opera of his Ring Cycle. I'd never been to Indy Opera before, and had no idea who was singing in the cast. And I wasn't sure what to expect from this performance.

And, as Wagner always does, I was blown away.

By far the most memorable singer of the opera was Greer Grimsley, who sang Wotan. Previous to seeing Rheingold yesterday, James Morris had been my only Wotan in live performance. And he set the bar extremely high. How high? Check it out here. You almost don't want to hear anyone else sing the role. So whenever I heard of anyone else singing Wotan, I was always a little skeptical, measuring the singer up to Morris.
I had heard wonderful things about Grimsley's voice, especially from his performances of Wotan in Seattle, so I was excited to get to hear him. And he blew me away! His voice cut easily over the orchestra, which was behind the singers. His performance was commanding, and his performance was magnetic. It's good to know that once Morris no longer sings Wotan, there's someone out there who can more than fill his shoes.

The performance was called a semi-staged concert version, but it didn't have that feeling. The "set" was various levels of scaffolding on the orchestra pit that were raised and lowered at the beginning and end of each scene. A screen was almost entirely lowered over the orchestra, showing images conveying each scene's setting; water for the Rhein, a mountain with a fortress for Valhalla, and a descent into a mine for Niebelheim. The only really cheesy moment with the screen was when Fafner killed his brother. A large metal pole-thing twirled across the screen, "hitting" Fasholt, and causing blood to appear on the screen. But the way in which the giants were depicted was very interesting; on either side of the stage were higher sets of scaffolding. Each bass stood on either scaffolding with a light projected on them, casting a large shadow on the screen. It was interesting and it worked well.

The singers were also semi-costumed. The Rheinmaidens wore flowing sparkly dresses, all different colors and teased Alberich (Richard Paul Fink, dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, a tuxedo shirt and vest) with transparent shawls. The gods were all in traditional "concert" attire, although Loge (Adam Klein, who sang wonderfully and acted delightfully) was dressed in a black suit with a bright orange shirt. And there were props too, which gave it more of a "fully-staged" feeling than anything; Wotan's Spear, the Rheingold, the Tarnhelm, and even the Ring itself.

And of course, that feeling of Wagner's music physically overwhelming you is unparalleled. You can't help but be taken in when you hear the giant's Leitmotiv the gods entrance into Valhalla at the end of the opera. One helluva show!

Signor del mondo...

I had my first coaching with Maestro Wedow today, and was very happy with how it all went. Again, my role isn't very big, but it is important. Nireno is, as Mo. Wedow put it, "Like James Levine, Vince Liotta, and David Effron all rolled into one." Cleopatra trusts him, and really lets him boss her around a bit. I keep forgetting that Cesare is, well, Julius Caesar (ahhh!!!), a larger-than-life character. King of the world. He's more than a general, and Cleopatra knows it. If she wins his love, she wins power. What she doesn't plan on, however, is falling in love with him.
And this is where Nireno helps.
He's proud of Cleopatra. She's "his honor student" as Mo. Wedow said. But he's still a servant. A servant, as he put it, in the way that Hilary Clinton is working with President Obama. And he's on the right team; after all, it is Nireno that begins the coronation scene, declaring Curio to be the victor, and Cesare to be kind of the world. In the back of his mind, though, he's saying, "See, I told you my girl Cleopatra would win. And now all those suckers who supported Tolomeo are being beheaded. Guess I was right!"
But there was still time left after we were finished working through the role, so we worked a little on my aria from Ariadne auf Naxos. I haven't been working on it that long, so it's still pretty rough in a lot of places. But Maestro gave me some very good suggestions, especially on how I learn the aria. He said I should take it in chunks, and that while Struass sounds like it's floating, you have to watch the conductor at all times. In retrospect, I should have sung Mozart for him, but he mentioned that he'd like to hear me sing my aria from Le Clemenza di Tito eventually. But I don't think I made a fool of myself in the least, and learned a great deal.
I'm just so thrilled to be singing in this opera, and to be working with my amazing cast members and artistic team! =)

Can I just move to Europe?

The concert yesterday went very well, in my opinion. The Bach really pulled itself together, and all of the soloists really sounded wonderful. And of course, the children's choir was just as adorable as is possible. As I said before, I could go on about the musicians, but I won't.
After the concert, I went to dinner with one of the other altos in choir, Alison. Her husband, Helmuth, is from Austria, and besides the three of us there was our choir director, Jon, another member of the choir, Kelly, a graduate piano student who sings with us, Alice, Heidi-Marie, Alison and Helmuth's daughter, and two Italian astrophysicists, Massimo and Claudia. I was definitely the youngest person there, but I didn't mind in the least; I've always gotten along better with adults then people my own age.
So, the first course is brought out. Yes, course. Sorry, I may get a little carried away. The first course was individual quiches and a mixed greens salad. I love quiche. A lot. So after we were finished, the main course is set out. We had almond-encrusted salmon accompanied by a sweet salsa. Along with this were sauteed zucchini, tomatoes, garlic, and basil, peas with shrimp, and a citrus rice dish with basil and maybe saffron. It was, in a word, amazing.
So I thought this might be the end. But no! There's more! After that came the bread and cheese. And really good European cheese. After the cheese came desserts. Homemade puff pastries and a coffee-chocolate mouse. And on top of all of this, when Alison invited me on Tuesday, and I mentioned that I was very excited to come, she said, "Oh, don't be. It's not going to be much."
omg.
But besides the wonderful food (this is honestly the best I've eaten in months), the company was great! Alison and Helmuth are very sweet and interesting people, and well rounded in many subjects. Discussion at the table covered everything from politics (both American and Italian) to things at church to literature to the stupid things undergraduates do (but I was informed that I do not fall into that category) to how Jon met Chelsea Clinton when he was at Yale. Part of the flavor of the conversation came from everyone's varied backgrounds. Jon grew up outside of New York City, Massimo and Claudia are from Rome (and moving to Paris by January), and here I am from Lake WobeDecatur. I didn't get back to my house until midnight, and was beyond tired; I'd been up since 7 that morning so that I get some studying done before Thomas picked me up for church at 10. But it was entirely worth the exhaustion.
And I'm thankful that I can have opportunities and experiences like this. Although it may sound odd, this is the sort of experience one doesn't expect to have when growing up in a place like Lake WobeDecatur. Being cast in an opera, learning Russian, and working with world-class artists also fall into this category. It blows my mind sometimes.

All fached up

Today I sang for the first and last time an aria from Britten's Billy Budd. This opera is based on the novella of the same name by Herman Melville, and has an all male cast. There's not even a pants role, sadly. Therefore, I'll never be in this opera. But in English diction, I got a chance to sing one of the arias as part of an "all fached up" day.
Surprisingly, very few people sang, especially given the excitement that had gone into setting this up. There were three of us who sang something we'll never sing again. A tenor sang "My man's gone now" from Porgy and Bess in his falsetto, and blew everyone away. Seriously, his high C is better than most women's. He might consider a career as a countertenor. One of the other women in the class sang "Joey" from The Most Happy Fella, which nearly every baritone sang this year at cattle calls. In fact, between that and the many people who sang it in her studio, that's how she learned it. And I sang "And farewell to ye, old Rights o Man" from Billy Budd. It's a very beautiful piece, and surprisingly tonal by Britten's standards. Billy sings this only minutes before he's hanged for killing Claggart, and in these final moments he explains that he's at peace, and that all of the horrible things that are about to happen to him don't matter now. I felt like I sang it well, but after I was done, Ms. McNair said to me, "Didn't you just feel the energy in the room that you created? It was wonderful!" And then went on to explain that no matter what you're singing, if you take it seriously, so will the audience. She then said to me, "You go and be Billy Budd!"
Later in the class, she herself sang "The Devil went down to Georgia" and played the violin part. It was, to say the least, freaking amazing.

Now I can actually talk about this.

It's official! The lists are posted!

I bought my score early this week and am busy learning my role. Nireno does have an aira, but it is often cut, as it will be in this production. Obviously, there are going to be lots of cuts, because Giulio Cesare uncut is almost Wagnerian in length. Since the aria is cut (I actually haven't seen it in any editions of the score), my entire role is recitative, plus the small ensemble at the very end. I've really never done recitative before, so this will be extremely good for me, and will really push me as far as memorization. Nireno is actually a very interesting character; he's an instigator, telling many of the characters, especially Cleopatra, "No, don't do that. Why don't you do this instead?" and working behind the scenes for his favorable outcome. This namely involves getting Cleopatra and Ceasar to hook up and for someone to take down Tolomeo. And these both happen.

Thursday the entire cast met with our conductor. The opera isn't until next semester (last weekend in March, first weekend in February), but learning the stylistic elements and preparation needs to begin as soon as possible. I only knew a few of the other singers going into the production, and a few others I had seen but really never met. I dashed to the basement of the MAC (Musical Arts Center) as soon as our first staging rehearsal for The Love for Three Oranges, of which I am in the chorus, was over. In the basement where all the dressing rooms and such are, I saw two or three guys who appear to be looking for something. I was right in assuming that they were also looking for the same room I was. One of them says to me, "Oh, are you in the cast? How wonderful!" and introduced himself. We finally found the room, which turned out to be the women's chorus dressing room, all ready for The Merry Wives of Windsor, which opens next weekend. My first impression on meeting the entire cast is that I'm very young. When I say young, I mean I'm the only person under 20 in the entire cast. Consequently, I feel like a small child. But I'm excited to learn this role and be a part of this wonderful and beautiful opera!

Here's a closer look at the cast list. I still can't believe my name is actually on it.

Breaking News

I found out only a few hours ago that I've been cast as Nireno in IU Opera Theater's production of Giulio Cesare! I'm absolutely beside myself with happiness and cannot believe this has happened!! More updates to come.

More freak-outs

Here's what my last week or so has been like:


Monday, 22 September: I receive an e-mail that golden age soprano and former Jacobs School Distinguished Professor of Voice Virginia Zeani (who sang with everybody; think Corelli, Simionato, Domingo, Pavarotti, del Monaco...you get the idea) will be giving two masterclasses here in honor of her 60th anniversary of her operatic debut as Violetta, which coincides with IU Opera Theater's 60th anniversary. And we opened this season with La Traviata. I sign up for the Wednesday masterclass, prepared to sing "Parto, ma tu ben mio". This is big stuff, guys.


Wednesday, 24 September: I sing for Miss Zeani in the masterclass. I was very pleased with how I sang, one of those few circumstances where I walk away from a performance feeling very happy. Miss Zeani turns to me and asks, "Tell me, have you ever considered that you might be a soprano?" I told her that I had, but that I feel more comfortable as a mezzo. She said, "Very good. You have a very beautiful voice, very lyric. Your legato is very beautiful, and your diction is excellent. I just thought, 'She has such a beautiful voice, maybe she could sing Mimi, or "Senza Mama" or other Puccini.' But if you feel more comfortable as a mezzo, then stay there. Sing what you love. You can do Mozart, and someday Werther."
Alice, my teacher, who was a student of Miss Zeani and lived with her for 12 years, talked to her afterwords about the soprano/mezzo debate, since this has been an ongoing thing with my voice. They both agreed that I should stay a mezzo for now, but later on I may move into soprano repertoire. Like, 15 years from now.


Thursday, 25 September: Miss Zeani gives a closed masterclass for students of three specific studios, one of which was the one I'm in. I soaked up every word she said in these masterclasses. She's done so much, sung with so many people, and knows so much that its impossible not to. And on top of that, she's a very fun and sweet person, full of stories about everyone you can think of, and has a great sense of humor. Basically, I want to be Virginia Zeani. My parents considered naming me Virginia, you know, but obviously didn't pick it. Zeani's first teacher's name was Lydia though. So there you go.


Friday, 26 September: I see that I have a new voicemail on my phone, and I listen to it. It's a message from Alice; "Hi Lydia, this is Alice. Please call me back as soon as you can. Bye." Of course, my first thought is that someone has died. I don't know why, but that's what I thought. But then I thought, "Why would she be calling me?" So, I called her back promptly. She tole me, "I got a call from the opera casting committee, and they want to you to do a callback for Julius Caesar next Thursday, singing Cornelia's 'Priva son'." I have never been more stunned and surprised in my entire life, and never never never imagined this would or could happen. I kept saying "ohmygod ohmygod" over and over and feeling absolutely and genuinely shocked.

Saturday, 27 September through Wednesday, 1 October: Prepare for callback. Insert embellishments to A section in the da capo. The aria is memorized.

Thursday, 2 October: I skipped my morning classes to get physically and mentally warmed up and prepared for the callback. When I get to the MAC (Musical Arts Center, where we perform all of our operas), I'm, of course, early. But once everyone shows up, I realized that there have been 4 mezzos called back for this role. That's right, 4. Three graduate students and myself. And since everything is double-cast, this means I have a 50% chance of being cast. I'm not hopeful that this will happen, since I'm only a sophomore, but I'm still thrilled I got called back. I was the first to sing, and despite a less-than-perfect beginning few measures, I believe I sang well. I was very nervous for many reasons, but overall I am happy with how I sang. The casting committee is made up of about a third of the voice faculty (it changes every two years, I think), plus conductors and directors. My teacher isn't on the casting committee this year, but I told her to keep my posted if she hears anything about how I sang. So....we'll have to see what happens. As I said before, I don't anticipate being cast, as much as I would love to be.

Sometimes, my hair color speaks for itself...

A few days ago, I was looking through my desk drawers and came across a program from the Stars of the Lyric Opera Millennium Park concert from 2005. This would have been at the beginning of my junior year of high school. Flipping through the pages, I remembered a lot from the concert; being in the open air with my mom and aunt Jan, the blisters on my feet, Ildebrando D'Arcangelo's beautiful voice, hair, and his music nearly flying away in the wind while singing the crap out of "Suoni la tromba" with Quinn Kelsey, Matthew Polenzani stopping in the middle of "Salut, demeure" because of the fireworks from the Rolling Stones concert at Soldier Feild, and Denyce Graves singing one of the most beautiful renditions of "Mon coeur s'ouvere a ta voix" I've ever heard. Oh yeah, and Nathan Gunn singing the first Figaro/Almaviva duet and the Hamlet Drinking Song. But this had somehow slipped my memory momentarily:

Les pecheurs de perles
Act One, Duet: "Au fond du temple saint"
Matthew Polenzani (Nadir)
Nathan Gunn (Zurga)

Obviously I remember it, and yes, it was basically gorgeous. This duet, as with many pieces, really needs to be experienced live to appreciate its total beauty. The Lyric Opera of Chicago is presenting this opera next season, with Gunn in the cast. This is giving me roadtrip ideas...

Vocal Poetry

Yesterday a pleasant surprise arrived in the mail; a belated birthday gift, in the form of Dmitri Hvorostovsky's Sviridov album (thank you Mom!). Georgi Sviridov, who died in 1998, finished the song cycle Petersburg, a vocal poem for Hvorostovsky in 1995, using poems by Russian poet Alexandr Blok. I read some Blok in my Russian lit class last semester, including his bizarre short play The Puppet Booth. His poetry does not employ many words, but those he chooses are powerful, even if the poetry is obscure and difficult to understand. Blok was at the beginning of what is known as The Silver Age of Russian poetry (the Golden Age being that of Pushkin and friends), which produced many of the early Soviet poets. I can't believe it took me until this past year to discover these poets, and I wish more people would read them. In my class, many of the poems we read also included the original Russian text, which was a big plus for me. Sviridov makes platinum out of these already golden words, and Hvorostovsky's dark-chocolate voice brings them to life with pianist Mikhail Arkadiev.

Also on this disc are Sviridov's Six Romances to words by Alexandr Pushkin, written in 1935. Of course, Pushkin is a totally different poet than Blok, and his style reflects that. Pushkin belonged to the Romantic age and uses more flowery and beautiful language than Blok. This is the man, after all, who wrote Eugene Onegin and The Queen of Spades. "To Nanny" is especially beautiful.

My advice? Go out and buy this album. Now. Right now. Honestly, this album is so good it makes everything else he's done look like crap. It's that good.

Mariinsky fever!

I just found the website of St. Petersburg's Mariinsky Theater, formerly called the Kirov, where the amazing and slightly creepy Valery Gergiev is artistic director. The Mariinsky is also the host of the famous Stars of the White Nights Festival of Music, which runs from May through July, this year celebrating 225 years of the Mariinsky. Here are just some highlights of this year's Festival:

May 12 (obviously already happened): Olga Borodina in concert

June 12 and 14: Great ballerinas of the Mariinsky ballet gala

June 17: Les Noces. Le Sacre du printemps. The Firebird

June 24: Bryn Terfel in concert

June 29: Dmitri Hvorostovksy in concert

July 12: Marking 225 Years of the Mariinsky Theatre La forza del destino

July 17: pianist Olga Kern

July 23 and 24: World premiere The Brothers Karamazov

As well as performances of Eugene Onegin, The Queen of Spades, Tristan und Isolde, Tosca, Don Giovanni, Carmen, The Love for Three Oranges, and all four operas of Wagner's Ring.

Seventy-nine days of pure bliss. The very thought of The Brothers Karamazov as an opera makes me want to scream with giddy excitement.