Put on your red shoes
I felt that opening night was a mini vocal triumph for us all; Personally I was in good shape, I did all I wanted to do, and the new hall resonated amazingly well.
Afterwards, there was a big gala dinner for the hot- shot money givers, therefore I decided to wear the most expensive article of clothing I own: my designer chiffon- flowing red gown. why not, and where else.
I painted my eyes smoky dark and went almost bare on the lips, (once again: thank you Julio for the lessons!) and fortunately my hair , after being previously pinned inside the wig, finally came out as big flowing waves. I was pretty happy, and at the request of one older gentleman, in the midst of main course and dessert, I stepped up to the dancing floor and granted him a dance. Then another to someone else. then there was pretty much a line of men in their 80's trying to remember their best disco moves from the 70's, while I was shaking my champagne and adrenaline up and down till I stopped noticing the staring eyes of the ones who DIDN'T dance.
Was I too wild? I really didn't go nuts on the dance floor, I Promise. A little cha-cha-cha here, a little spin there. But, should I have chachacha'd at all? An old party- trick of my star friends, is to attend these events politely and quietly; charm a little, and be gone first, un-noticeable, sneaking out with no goodbyes, taking your REAL party somewhere else (where letting your hair down wouldn't be shocking since it wouldn't even be spotted).
This time around, I definitely ignored that suggestion, deciding to seal one prima with a genuine, big smile.
Afterwards, there was a big gala dinner for the hot- shot money givers, therefore I decided to wear the most expensive article of clothing I own: my designer chiffon- flowing red gown. why not, and where else.
I painted my eyes smoky dark and went almost bare on the lips, (once again: thank you Julio for the lessons!) and fortunately my hair , after being previously pinned inside the wig, finally came out as big flowing waves. I was pretty happy, and at the request of one older gentleman, in the midst of main course and dessert, I stepped up to the dancing floor and granted him a dance. Then another to someone else. then there was pretty much a line of men in their 80's trying to remember their best disco moves from the 70's, while I was shaking my champagne and adrenaline up and down till I stopped noticing the staring eyes of the ones who DIDN'T dance.
Was I too wild? I really didn't go nuts on the dance floor, I Promise. A little cha-cha-cha here, a little spin there. But, should I have chachacha'd at all? An old party- trick of my star friends, is to attend these events politely and quietly; charm a little, and be gone first, un-noticeable, sneaking out with no goodbyes, taking your REAL party somewhere else (where letting your hair down wouldn't be shocking since it wouldn't even be spotted).
This time around, I definitely ignored that suggestion, deciding to seal one prima with a genuine, big smile.
posted by Singin'rin at 7:26 PM
3 Comments:
BRAVA RINI!!! :)
Also, sounds like you had loadsa fun at the gala, and, honestly, that's all that matters - after all it was a happy party, not a funeral! :)
(wish I had someone to tell me how to apply makeup in a "hey, lokk at me, I'm stunning!" way, too - true, my sister *is* a beautician and makeup artist, still she lives some 300km away, plus every time I ask her to give me clever tips she makes excuses claiming she's busy... humph.)
Well, maybe I can pass on all my Julio and larry tips to you when we meet again! (Venezia, anybody?) :)
xoxo r.
You were great opening night and again Wednesday night. I look forward to watching you and the cast on Saturday night. I really enjoy your expressions in the face of a hard-charging Guglielmo.
Now that you mention your singing a third below the soprano, I pay equal attention to both of you.
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