Jeremiah and stuff
This past week ended up being crazy; I thought I was going to have time to re-learn my Barbiere score (since I won't really have much study time until I go to do it in March), and I was hoping to get to go to the gym, and I was hoping to catch up with old friends, and I was hoping to take it easy; After all, the "Jeremiah Symphony" is not such a huge business for me, and I was going to stay in one of the most wonderful hotels in Philadelphia, and spend some time which I was hoping to call "leisure".
But no. This is how things turned out: I happened to feel exhausted (having spent only 3 days at home after Stuttgart) , and I was starting to feel a cold coming on.
I still had to do a morning rehearsal every day, (warm up lots before hand), and sing some pretty important concerts during the evenings. Sure it sounds not that tough, but without proper sleep, and with this cold coming on, I was stepping towards a red line. Then something worst happened and my husband who came with, got that very same cold I was dreading so much.
An easy solution would be to send him back home, but unfortunately the poor thing was SO sick, he could not even get out of bed (which I am sure would have felt much more fluffy and inviting had we been on vacation and in good health).
So this was my week; while trying to get my husband back on his feet, (providing food, medication, love and peace) and being hysterically worried about my own damn health, ( over-doing Zicam, Wellness formula, Vitamins, what not) I was running back and forth between my hotel to the Kimmel Center to my good old music school, (where I had another engagement; taking part in an Alumni concert on my day off).
All was great though, if you think about what I did achieve: I got to sit on a chair on stage and have one of the world's best orchestras, playing Bernstein so close behind and around me, that I could feel the vibration of the sound in the air swirling and taking me with it. And I got to watch one of the important conductors of our time right from that chair next to his podium, and I got to stand up and sing this fantastic music, night after night.
And even more exciting event was that my Maestro asked me to sing a "Post concert" concert with him (at the piano), and at 10:45 PM (an unusual hour for us unusual people), we invited the audience (well, the hard-core ones) to remain with us, and with absolute and sincere joy, we performed my beloved Schumann cycle "Frauen Liebe und Leben" (which I haven't touched for a few years), and only now I realize how much I actually missed it. Missed IT, missed orchestral work, missed the ART SONG.
I am sitting on the train (with my husband, who is finally feeling a bit better), and I am looking forward to my Carnegie Hall dip, coming up in 2 days, where I will again sit in the soloist chair, drowned by confetti of notes, and will be pretty much in the know that I *did* practice, cuz it's Carnegie Hall after all.
But no. This is how things turned out: I happened to feel exhausted (having spent only 3 days at home after Stuttgart) , and I was starting to feel a cold coming on.
I still had to do a morning rehearsal every day, (warm up lots before hand), and sing some pretty important concerts during the evenings. Sure it sounds not that tough, but without proper sleep, and with this cold coming on, I was stepping towards a red line. Then something worst happened and my husband who came with, got that very same cold I was dreading so much.
An easy solution would be to send him back home, but unfortunately the poor thing was SO sick, he could not even get out of bed (which I am sure would have felt much more fluffy and inviting had we been on vacation and in good health).
So this was my week; while trying to get my husband back on his feet, (providing food, medication, love and peace) and being hysterically worried about my own damn health, ( over-doing Zicam, Wellness formula, Vitamins, what not) I was running back and forth between my hotel to the Kimmel Center to my good old music school, (where I had another engagement; taking part in an Alumni concert on my day off).
All was great though, if you think about what I did achieve: I got to sit on a chair on stage and have one of the world's best orchestras, playing Bernstein so close behind and around me, that I could feel the vibration of the sound in the air swirling and taking me with it. And I got to watch one of the important conductors of our time right from that chair next to his podium, and I got to stand up and sing this fantastic music, night after night.
And even more exciting event was that my Maestro asked me to sing a "Post concert" concert with him (at the piano), and at 10:45 PM (an unusual hour for us unusual people), we invited the audience (well, the hard-core ones) to remain with us, and with absolute and sincere joy, we performed my beloved Schumann cycle "Frauen Liebe und Leben" (which I haven't touched for a few years), and only now I realize how much I actually missed it. Missed IT, missed orchestral work, missed the ART SONG.
I am sitting on the train (with my husband, who is finally feeling a bit better), and I am looking forward to my Carnegie Hall dip, coming up in 2 days, where I will again sit in the soloist chair, drowned by confetti of notes, and will be pretty much in the know that I *did* practice, cuz it's Carnegie Hall after all.
posted by Singin'rin at 11:30 PM
2 Comments:
In bocca al lupo, bella!
Crepi il lupo! :) xoxo
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