the maestro changes everything

I've spent a good amount of time with Mozart in the last few weeks. Not only am I working on Don Giovanni, but the arias we've been studying in my accompanying class have all been from Mozart operas thus far. So when I get sick of practicing, listening to, or writing in the translation (for the entire opera) for Giovanni - and when I'm sick of carrying around my 3 different editions of the score....I think to myself, "OK, I should take a break and do something else."  The only problem is....the "something else" is MORE MOZART.

Mozart and I have always had a great relationship.  I love his music.  In fact his Requiem is on my top five list, of all time.   If it were possible for me to have a favorite composer, it might be him.  But as I told my friend last week: if Don Giovanni and I are going to make it for the long haul, we're going to need to start seeing other people NOW.  So occasionally, I try to practice some Debussy or Strauss. That worked for awhile....

But on Saturday it happened.  I played through the Act I finale as well as the entire second act during my practice time.  I sat in the library for 3 hours (a total of 10 hours last week) writing the translations of the recitatives into my score.

And at the end of that, I was officially sick of Mozart.   <gasp>


Lucky for me, the maestro changes everything.

Our guest conductor will come every couple of weeks for an intense day of rehearsals.  Yesterday was the first of those days.

I sat in on the afternoon ensemble rehearsal.  I am not scheduled to start playing until later this week, but I have been going to a few rehearsals to get an idea about tempos, etc.  So, lucky for me, I was free yesterday to give up three hours of practice/study time to observe the rehearsal.

And I'm glad I did, because the maestro changes everything.

I first noticed it in the energy level of the room.

He brings authority.   People stand up straighter.  They're quicker to respond. They're on their best behavior.  Some are dressed nicer....attempting to make a good first impression.  There's a buzz, a nervous energy.  Make sure you're in your seat, or at your stand, pencil in hand, when he walks in the room.

He brings new tempos.   Some feel twice as fast as I thought were possible.

He brings his wealth of wisdom.  Here is a man who knows this score inside and out.  I watch him mouth the words along with the singers, as his hands maintain the pulse.    He knows it all.   The lilt of the language.  The shape of the phrase.  The delicate details of each character's inner monologue.

A native Italian speaker, he corrects the singers' diction as they go, helping them form the proper vowel shape - and reminding them when they add a double consonant where there is only a single.

An experienced conductor, he pauses from time to time to explain how the different lines work together - referencing what the double bass is doing in that measure, or the counter-melody provided by the woodwinds.

A dedicated student of the libretto, he observes the process, allowing his perception of the character to inform his musical interpretation, and vice-versa.  He pauses to discuss who this character is....what their motivation is. Mozart most definitely knew what he was doing in the way he set the text, so much of it is already in the music, but that doesn't mean we can slack off on doing our homework.

A wise teacher, he does not waste time pampering their egos.  He compliments them once at the beginning of the rehearsal.  And then they get to work.

He is not a screamer, which I appreciate.   He is kind to the pianist.   And he has a great sense of humor.   I try to count the number of times he says "Don't make an aria out of it."      I lose count.


And then the moment comes.  I feel the spark.

I love this.

I don't always love practicing.
I don't even always love performing.
But when it comes down to it, I always love rehearsing.

I love the dialogue.  The discussions of characterization and phrasing.  I love the perfection process.  I love the mistakes and the laughter.  I love the journey.


and yes,
I love Mozart.