I'm not sure how to even begin processing all that has transpired in the last 2 months of this journey of working on the production of
Don Giovanni (actually, my journey began in May when I started learning the score myself!). It has been one of the highlights of my time at Peabody, and I still marvel at the fact that I got to be involved, not only in the process, but also the final performance.
I have much to be thankful for, as I look back on this journey.
I am thankful it was this year. I had a rough first semester of grad. school, and I know that had I been thrown into this experience right off the bat, I wouldn't have enjoyed or appreciated it in the same way. I am thankful that I had a year under my belt - so I was able to fully engage in the entire experience.
I am thankful it was Mozart. Last year's opera was Stravinsky, and I know it would have been an entirely different ballgame, had I been assigned to that. Sure, there is a part of me that is ready to be done with this show. There are things I'm tired of in the production as a whole. But I am not sick of the music, not in the slightest. It continues to amaze and surprise and thrill me. And it continues to bring me life and energy.
I am thankful it was
Don Giovanni. This opera is a true masterpiece. It is a difficult piece, on every level, and demands a great deal from its performers and directors. And I am fortunate now to have it in my ears, in my fingers, in my heart. I have a vivid memory of my piano professor at Whitworth referencing it one day. I was playing a Mozart Fantasy for my senior recital, and the opening reminded her of the overture to
Don Giovanni. Now I know why. She was exactly right. And this week, I got to sit in the orchestra pit as they blew the socks right off that same overture. What a privilege.
I am thankful we had the conductor that we did. I learned so much from his approach. I watched the singers rest in the security that they could trust the person in the pit; he had their backs. I respect that greatly, because it's the same sense of security I hope to foster for the singers I play for. His goal was to enable the singers and instrumentalists to sing and play freely - and to get out of their way as much as possible. And he did just that.
I am thankful it was an ensemble show. Sure, there will be "divas" in every production. But overall, there was a commitment to the production as a whole. This was most evident in the assistant conductor and assistant director, who devoted their time (and then some) to make sure that every detail was taken care of behind the scenes. They even held extra rehearsals for the understudies, who weren't getting much of a chance to learn their parts in the normal rehearsals. But the most poignant picture of humility came during the understudy performance. They are given one chance to run the show, sans costumes and orchestra (or even much of an audience). I was playing harpsichord and wasn't able to turn pages for the pianist. The stage manager ran up to the auditorium to find a volunteer page turner. And as the pit door opened, I found myself tearing up. It was the lead of the show: Don Giovanni himself. And at intermission, the other lead, the guy playing Leporello, took over. Of all the people, they deserved to sit and relax and enjoy watching the understudies perform. Instead, they saw something that needed to be done, and decided to honor the understudies as well as the musicians in the pit with their service. Talk about ensemble spirit.
I am thankful I got to be a part of the rehearsal process. It was incredible to watch the director interpret the story and pull the character and emotions out of the singers. I loved being a part of each stage of the learning process; it makes the final product that much more rewarding.
I am thankful I got to play for the performances. I have never performed on a harpsichord before. The role of the harpsichordist in the opera is really the musician's role. The average audience member probably won't give a second listen to the harpsichord, and it certainly won't be mentioned in the reviews. But the musicians on the stage, in the pit, and out in the house know my role. The singers know that they are dead without me. The handful of people who know the score are aware of when I cover up the singers' missed lines or words. Those who are listening closely will hear how I'm working to set the mood. But most of the people who sit in the audience will forget there even was a harpsichord! It really is my ideal role. I get to support what's going on up on the stage, and be in the pit with the orchestra, and no one really listens to me!
I am thankful for the people that supported me along the way. My teacher was the first to push me towards volunteering to play harpsichord. The principal coach, who is currently the interim opera dept. chair, and the maestro offered me feedback and coached me through the process. My roommate packed me lunch AND dinner on more than a few long rehearsal days. My parents came out and enjoyed their first opera (twice!). A group from my church came to opening night. And the list goes on.
Don Giovanni was an ensemble show. But my life is also an ensemble show...I am well aware that I cannot do it alone.
So, it's time to say goodbye to my dear Donny G. We've gotten to know each other pretty well over the past few months. We've had some laughs, and our fair share of tears. We've shared early mornings and late nights. We've met over coffee and over wine...and always over chocolate. We've survived hundreds of hours of rehearsals and even hurricanes.
It's hard to say farewell, but I'm confident we'll meet again.
But until we do, all I can say is:
Thanks for everything, Donny. You'll always have a special place in my heart.
