never a dull moment

I thought I would give you a little window into the world of an accompanist.

We joke a lot, my colleagues and I, about the things we hear from singers.  If I only had a nickel for every time I have heard the following:

"Sorry I didn't get you the music, but it's not very hard."
"My acid-reflux is really acting up."
"I have all this post-nasal drip."
"I think it's my allergies."
"Yeah, it's just all this mucus."
"Sorry, I'm just not very good at rhythm."
"My voice is just tired today."
"My chords are a little swollen."
"I'm on vocal rest."

It was the last one that found it's way to my ears this morning, just before our 7:30AM call time this morning as we headed out to Annapolis for our final performance of "Ariel's Tempest."

One of our singers, who is gearing up to give her senior recital on Tuesday, was feeling vocally tired. She informed me this morning that her teacher had placed her on vocal rest yesterday and that she needed to "sing as little as possible" in today's performance.  And I understand her quandary.  She needs to be healthy for her recital.  She doesn't want to risk further injury.  The "Tempest" music is not really easy on the voice.  And 10:30AM is not prime time for any kind of vocal performance.

So, therefore, she needs to sing less.  Translation: she needs to make cuts from her part.

Enter: the music director.

That, apparently, is: yours truly.

And so it begins.  Each performance has its issues...people singing wrong notes, rhythms, entering too soon, not entering soon enough....issues of balance - is the piano too loud for the singers to be heard by the audience? Is the piano loud enough for the singers to hear it? Can I hear the singers if I play loud enough for them to hear?

These are a few of the things that go through my mind as I play. My job is to make them sound good - cover up any mistakes....speed up the tempo if they're running out of breath....play their part with them if they're going a little flat.  They have a lot to think about: words, music, technique, acting, staging, props, etc. - so they need to know that I'm there to support them musically.

But today was a new one.

I spent the 30 min. van ride talking through potential cuts with the members of the cast.  Cutting singing means cutting staging as well. So if we cut out a page of music, then someone that was on stage left might not have had the time to make it to stage right and get their prop for their next line.    If we cut out a page of music, we might be missing an essential part to the plot - and leave the audience confused.   If we cut out a page of music, the other people on stage might be confused and start singing the wrong part.   If we cut out a page of music, we might have an interesting time getting from one key to another.

Lots to consider. Everything is interconnected and interdependent.

But somehow, it worked.  Somehow, the transitions flowed, people remembered what we were leaving out, props ended up on the right part of the stage.

And fortunately, the composer, who was in the audience today, was gracious.

And I think the kids liked it too.

Afterwards, the kids often flock to the "Ariel" character - she's got the coolest costume, by far. They want to meet her and take a picture with her.  She's sort of the equivalent of a princess at Disneyland.

But today, for the first time, someone wanted to meet the pianist.

A very precocious 9-year-old Katie walked right up to me and asked, "Do you have any advice for an aspiring pianist?"

I'm not sure what I said.  Something about keep practicing, play with other people, experiment with making up your own things.

But as I reflect on that question now, I think back on my nine-year-old self.  Who would have thought that I would be music directing an opera?   Who would have thought that some day I'd be rehearsing scene-cuts 2 hours before the curtain opens?  Who would have thought that I'd even have the authority to make those cuts?!

So Katie: wherever you are, keep practicing.  Keep loving that "Moonlight Sonata."  Be ready for anything. Expect the unexpected.  Keep aspiring.

And I hope that you are pleasantly surprised when you turn around someday and see where you ended up.

Upward and Onward

I would love to say that after my recital, I was able to take a few days off and celebrate.  But it was back to work on Monday for me! Such is the life of an accompanist....but we love it ;o).

I played on Friday night for a non-degree recital, off-campus. We performed 4 songs by French composer, Reynaldo Hahn (one of my favorites) as well as Samuel Barber's "Hermit Songs."   The latter are settings of the poetry of monks from the 9th-14th centuries, and the set has become standard in the vocal repertoire. I had never learned all of them - so it was good for me, especially because they're not easy. I have no doubt that I will play them all again - so having performed them once, I am not as scared of them!

One of my favorite texts (although I love them all!) is "The Monk and His Cat":

"Pangur, white Pangur,

How happy we are

Alone together,

Scholar and cat.

Each has his own work to do daily;

For you it is hunting, for me study.

Your shining eye watches the wall;

My feeble eye is fixed on a book.

You rejoice when your claws entrap a mouse;

I rejoice when my mind fathoms a problem.

Pleased with his own art,

Neither hinders the other;

Thus we live ever

Without tedium and envy.

Pangur, white Pangur,

How happy we are

Alone together,

Scholar and cat."

After the recital, I went out with my friends Nadja and Rayna, both in my program. Rayna had performed her degree recital earlier in the evening, and I had promised that I would buy her a drink to celebrate. I am blessed to have such wonderful friends and colleagues. 

The church where I got to perform on Friday night.

Nadja and me

Rayna celebrating the completion of her recital!

Recital Pictures

A few pictures from the recital itself:

Afterwards, we had a reception in the courtyard in the center of "campus" (I hesitate to call it that because it is only one square block!). Here I am with Nadja and her husband, Vuk, and their little one, Natalija.

My mom and I talking with my teacher, Eileen.

Alison and I wearing the hats she made for us to wear during our final song: "I am a Shnortelhonkerjiggerderokopus."

My lovely friend and recital buddy!

Here I am with Nadja, my dear friend and colleague.

So glad to have my parents there to share the weekend with me!

My mom and I walking along the harbor on Easter Sunday.

enjoy the journey

I apologize for the delay in reporting about my recital! It's been a busy few days....as I have gotten back to all the things that had been put on the back burner.

It was a wonderful weekend. My parents arrived on Thursday night, just in time to catch the tail end of our dress rehearsal. It was a gift to have them here to share in my recital and to celebrate Easter together the next day!

I spent Saturday morning sitting in the sunshine down by the harbor. As I reflected on the journey leading up to Saturday, a stream of faces poured through my mind...family, friends, colleagues, professors...countless people who have cheered me on along the way. People that have believed in me. Challenged me. Encouraged me. Poured their life and love into me.

My eyes began to well up with tears as my heart swelled with gratitude.

I am blessed and honored to have such a "great cloud of witnesses" surrounding me. What an honor to be supported by a loving community, both near and far. What an honor to be at Peabody - to have the privilege of studying alongside wonderful students and being coached by incredible musicians. What an honor to stand on the stage in Griswold Hall, where so many others have stood. What an honor to perform music that has been around for hundreds of years, that has stood the test of time, that has been played and sung by countless others. What an honor to make music with Alison, to share the day and the journey with her. What an honor to share that space and that time and that music with such a wonderful, gracious audience.

As we took the stage, I was filled with joy and with gratitude, and I was free to play from my heart. Sure, not everything was perfect, and I have much to improve on, but I played with all of who I am at this stage in the journey.

And that's all I can ask for.