singin'rin

0.2 cents (number 2) list

2011-06-22T10:39:00.023-04:00

continuing my first 0.2 cents thread of advice to singers and everybody else on that similar road, I decided to go ahead and share with you a list of products that have changed my traveling life for the better.
Here are my personal secrets to keep my self well- travelled , well rested, looking presentable in my field, and generally survive 'the road'.

For technology:
*Macbook pro
I used to travel with a little PC that was acting up at the worst moments- when I was lonely, in a foreign country and in desperate need for communication.Then I added MAC to my collection and began traveling with both (just in case). Shortly after, I realized that my MAC is indeed superior , and usually I have no problem connecting it to a DSL or WiFi, it is stable, reliable, light , and beautiful.

*Airport express (to go with your MAC)
This gadget WORKS! When you find yourself in a place where there is only a DSL connection but no WiFi, you hook your Airport express and turn the place into a WiFi zone. If you have a guest and need to use more then one computer, this is simply a fantastic solution!

*(at least 1) Unlocked cell phone
Why "at least one"? because it is important to have 1 number where you can be reached at all times. For that I keep one SIM card on at all times (as my permanent number). However, I keep another phone which is (also) unlocked and in which I alway make sure I have a local SIM card, wherever I am in the world. This way, I don't roam, and my local friends can easily get a hold of me, without bothering to call abroad every time they feel like chatting. Two unlocked phones will back you up for any strange reason.
There are dual-sim phones out there, but I simply carry on me my unlocked iphone ( I block all incoming data so I can only use it over WiFi and it's free) and one unlocked Nokia for everything else, and am pretty happy with it.

*Skype (and Skype credit!)
Skype has changed my life. really. The ability to talk AND to see my friends and family on a daily basis and for free, is just a miracle! But what is even better , is Skype credit which you can purchase, and make calls from your computer to any phone in the world. It doesn't cost much, and it gives you the ability to have your own "landline" and not have to use your cell phone to place what would be an extremely expensive call otherwise.

*Electricity world converter+ extension
The World converter is great. It really does work worldwide (you just need to adjust to the right position). But what is the genius addition, is the extension cord I bring with it. That way- I don't need more then only 1 converter, and can plug all my American gadgets into the one extension instead and I also gain mobility!

For travel:

*4 wheel suitcases
I mentioned this before, and I will mention it again- buy thyself a 4 wheel suitcase and trash your 2 wheel one. You will understand what I am talking about once you experience this simple but great revolution!

*Airline lounge membership
Whether you have accumulated enough points on your preferred airline, and have managed to get into their "gold" or VIP club for free, or whether you have to invest some kind of money into acquiring that status in order to use the lounge at the airport- this might be worth it.
The idea of sitting with a bunch of businessman and getting free cocktails and food and WiFi before and in between flights, might not sound that appetizing right now, but once you experience it, in a life full of travel- it is hard to not desire it for the rest of your road.

For high performance:

* Sleeping pills
I am not one to preach for drug use. Sleeping pills are addictive and horrible. However, if you are an opera singer and you are about to sing a leading role and it is 4 AM and you still haven't slept a minute... and you have a matinee where you sing dance and act for 4 hours... and the show depends on you... you really do want to have some kind of a sleeping aid available to you.
You might carry melatonin, herbs, teas and/or your personal meditation CD, but when it is already 5 AM, and you are still hyper, trust, you'll thank me for taking that Ambien pill and getting your Z's in order.

*Earplugs
You never know what noises you might be forced to endure doing the one night you have to get your Z's. (here are some of my encounters: drunk tourists coming back from the night club at 4AM yelling right outside my hotel door. A neighbor who loves her stilettos at all hours of the day (and night). An old def lady next door who forgets her TV on, letting it blast 24 hours a day).
Very bad acoustic isolation wherever you are is almost a given, and to make your life a little bit easier, I recommend that you travel with these, and lots of them. (the reason I say "lots" is because they tend to disappear to the same black hole single socks disappear into after laundry. It's a mystery that can only be soothed by quantity. :)

*5 hour energy bottle
To counter the sleeping pills, again- if your last resort is "drugs", go for this one. When coffee and sugar stopped working, and you simply don't feel up to the task of entertaining full-blast because you are way too tired- try one of these little devils. They work.

*Wellness formula
I use this whenever I start getting sick. I use the liquid form of this preventive all-natural potion, and it usually saves my health (and the sanity of the opera house where I am singing) :)

Girl talk:

*Victoria Secret "miraculous" push up bras
The world is marveling in the "boobilicious" presentation I manage to acquire on stage. But what they don't know is that in reality these girls are ...much more humble, let's say.. ;)
My Carmen is not complete without it! Highly recommended.

*Hair extensions (hairdo by Jessica Simpson)
For concerts, bad-hair days, wig-hair (when you take off the wig after a show and your own hair seems very shy ;) ) I use these extensions for added volume and length. They look natural and they clip in within 10 seconds. One of my favorite products.

Spoken words

2011-02-10T21:33:00.002-05:00

For anybody interested- a full radio interview I did a couple weeks ago on ABC Classic FM (Australia) with Margaret Throsby, one of the most highly regarded Australian interviewers.

Interview directly here.

0.2 cents

2010-12-05T23:09:00.004-05:00

Being on the road for quite a while, I was thinking about early investments for singers, and came up with a short list, in no particular order.

(Invest in):

1)Technique
Do it while you are still young. I need not say any more. Nobody has a perfect technique, but the ones who actually get to work professionally and *maintain* it, are the ones who arrived into the business in a pretty descent shape already.
You keep on perfecting your technique as you develop , and you keep learning and correcting over the years, (and thanks to experience), but your basic foundation should strive to be as little faulty as it can, *before* you get out there.

2)Languages

Same as Technique. But I can not stress more how *important* it is to be able to understand the words and the grammar of all the languages you sing.
slightly less important , but this would make your life SO much better, is the ability to communicate with your colleagues, conductors and directors later on (and you WILL find that if you work in Europe, English will NOT be the language spoken around). This will also help immensely to elevate your comfort of living as an international citizen. (It makes a huge difference if you get lost in a foreign country and still can ask and understand directions in the native language).

3)Friendships and relationships

Being on the road makes you so detached already, by default, from your friends and family.
MAKE AN EFFORT to keep in touch with everybody, and I mean: EVERYBODY, and I mean: EFFORT. Actually *invest* your time into Emails, phone calls, Facebook, whatever can keep you an available, good friend. The more random acquaintances will unavoidably, gradually drop out of your life, as you are so absent, so try to keep your profile up in order to (at least) keep your good friends and important relationships around.
{You will find later how nice it is to be in a foreign country and have a whole list of local friends to invite for dinner (or to be invited!)}.
Loneliness is a major factor in our life. Having available friends to you, whether they are physically or virtually around,and being an active, real friend to them, is a very important thing, both ways, I find.

4)What's important to you and makes you comfortable

Are you attached to your 15 year old stuffed Teddybear? Do you sleep better knowing you have a sleeping pill around, just in case? Is your French coffee presser and turkish coffee is something which gives you comfort every morning? Are you in need of a Macbook pro/ iphone/ + Internet WiFi key? TAKE those things with you, by all means. Make yourself at home, because this WILL be your home. What you carry *with* you in your suitcase might be the only thing to soothe your aching heart.

5)Your mental health and spiritual state

This is a hard one, because you might think it gets better, but frankly it doesn't. The more you are on the road, the more obstacles cross roads and question marks are bumping into you.
Pressure, instability, loneliness, burdens, decisions, doubts, will try to sink you down. Try really hard to have something or somebody (yoga? meditation? guru? religion?help books?) to help you balance and bounce back.

6)Your physical shape

This is very connected to the mental shape advice, and I can't stress out enough how important it is to get into SOME kind of a routine with exercise. The more you do it , the better the world around you would feel and the better you'd feel about your self.

7)Your image

Invest in your image. Whatever it might be. What you put out there is what they will want (or not) to buy. Decide on WHO you are, try to be your own PR manager, represent your self the way you want people to perceive (and buy) you, as if you were a product, which in fact- you (kind of) are.

8)Human relations

You need to be charming, in some way. What you lack in technique, looks, or general goods , could be filled in by your human relation skills.

9)Good luggage

Seriously- for me: one of the major things. Investing in a good piece of luggage (or a few) is my number one rule. Traveling the world with a four- wheeler samsonite (and also a carry on) has changed my existance. Life is so much better. Spend that money , you won't regret it!

10)Travel/ accommodation

Don't try to save a buck on how you travel and where you stay.
avoiding an extra connection, 4 hours lay over or a dumpy cold and empty hotel room, will make your life so much nicer.
When traveling becomes your world, your hotel room is your home. Make it nice for yourself and your entire being will be elevated.

11)Support circle

Along your career, you will be subjected to unimaginable amount of opinions and criticism. You will be reviewed, you will be loved and hated, you will be watched and no matter how well you think you did, it is never going to be well enough for some.
Pick only a handful of people in your life whom you trust. Make them your support circle. They should be the only people you can TRULY listen to, take advice from, and still feel safe and loved and constructive.

12)Etiquette skills

Like languages, it is important to know when to talk how to talk which fork to use for which dish and how to approach people.
You will find that schmoozing and having fancy meals with fancy people is as large a part as the actual singing.
If you can't stand social etiquette rules, it's fine too,. You can always acquire a "bad boy" image and play against the rules. That's an image too. But before you do that- Know how to behave anyway.

Life and mirrors

2010-11-27T16:56:00.005-05:00

I don't know why I want to tell you this, but I will anyway write here this short little story:
While doing my daily routine of 60 minutes cardio on the elliptical machine at the gym, I noticed two women with identical backs, identical pony tails, identical shoulders, identical legs, working out right in the row in front of me.
I could not see their faces , but I was extremely curious to wait and find out if indeed they were a set of identical twins, or just two very, very similar back sides of random strangers.
I was patiently waiting (while still working out), to catch a glimpse of their front.

Half an hour passed by and we were all, good girls, still on our exercise machine, when I noticed that on the TV screen , they were showing an episode of trash- show "Jerry Springer" where they featured a set of identical twins who shared the same man.

I was so taken by the show on TV, that when it was over, and I suddenly remembered to examine reality and finally find the answer to my curiosity I have been holding for the past hour, the real life twins in question, were already gone.

Status (or: Gold singer)

2010-08-22T14:15:00.000-04:00

With "star alliance", a group of a few different partner airlines , I already managed to accumulate a respectful amount of miles. I have flown so much in the past years, that I am now a "Gold member" of their VIP club.
This entitles me to unlimited visits at all their lounges around the world's airports, special first class check in, free upgrades and all kinds of other sweet little treatments.
Before reaching this status, I was content flying like a normal, middle class person, but since I have become "special" I can't imagine going back.
The smiles at the first class check-in desk, the (politely not even mentioned) "you are over the weight limit, but oh well, you are important so we'll let it go", the civilized, quiet, sophisticated well air-conditioned room on its leather arm chairs and well dressed, well behaved businessmen, the free full breakfast/ lunch/ dinner/ cocktails/ snacks/ magazines/ internet services upon my arrival at the lounge,these little things I now feel I *deserve*, will not easily be given up or forgotten. In fact, in my world, they now seem almost necessary.

I enjoyed watching the film "Up in the air", about a frequent flyer who's main goal in life is to accumulate a life-time highest "status" with his airline.
It might seem like a sarcastic joke to you, but to a frequent flyer, who is away from home for most of the year, these little touches make life so much more bearable.

Don't think for a moment that airline glitzy statuses come easy. You need to fly enough miles and enough "segments" ( what is that?) during one year, with your company, to get it right and , you also have to maintain that flight frequency in order to remain a V.I.P.
If you haven't flown enough, you could at any moment , be demoted!

I live in fear.
(Am only joking here, but maybe not a full 100 % ).

This airline status, reminds me of a singing career.
How easy it is to get used to a certain illusion of success,money, respect, glamour, (this, a singer can be fooled to believe in over the course of even one single production), but how with the same easiness, you can fail to achieve enough (or so simply : fail), and get dropped.
(First to drop you, would be the fickle public then the hiring companies then your management. And If you are still buckled on that unlucky coaster ride, it could even continue into your personal life, until you've been dropped so low there's nothing bellow-er anymore).
I see this happening to colleagues left and right, and I am trying to stay afloat here, on my humble "silver" singer status, not even "gold". LoL.

On my recent visit with my parents, my mother asked me :" What will you do when your shining star goes away? let's assume (being positive) in 10, 15 years or so? what will you do?"
… What WILL I do after I have sung the Carmens of the world, stumbled through some other operatic repertoire, had my one woman cabaret / recital show, have gotten older - my skin, breasts, vibrato- all defeated by gravity- , got cast as "the mother" and then "the grandmother", until there is no role old or small enough for me? (that is most likely to happen , in opera years - around the ancient human age of 50 or so )…

That was a question with no immediate answer to be found.
(I hope that by the time this happens, I can still visit my mother and let her believe that I am singing Carmen at the MET and at Covent Garden and at La Scala , and , like a good, trusting old mother, she would really and truly buy my lies and be content).

What will I do when I don't fly consecutive gazillion miles per year, when I get kicked out ,dropped from Golden heaven, becoming once again a faceless dot in a loud crowd of ordinary people at an airport, standing in line, if able to, in order to buy a small overpriced bottle of water?

" when life gives you lemons, make lemonade"
…I guess I'd have to try to make a lemonade with this ridicilous water I'd just bought at $4.99? …that's if I can find a slice of fresh lemon and some sugar anywhere… I guess I could always beg the lady working at the lounge to be kind, for old time' sake, and slip me some…

L'Chaim (to life)

2010-06-25T15:11:00.011-04:00

Before I left to restart my "world tour" I was a bit fearful, since I couldn't foresee any real downtime and my only chance to unpack my winter clothes and repack for the summer season, was some 4 short days at home in between shows, after three months away and before 2 upcoming ones.

What I didn't expect, was a decline in my health. Oh health...something we all take for granted, when we are blessed with it and are able to ignore.
Many of my issues derive from the high- stress, high- pressure state in which I live, and since I really haven't had the time to acknowledge any of it (or even get checked), like a tooth- decay untreated, all has worsened until I was actually forced to stop and pay attention.

Toronto, Berlin, Baden Baden, Tokyo and Stuttgart, dealing with much travel, criticism, high expectations,loneliness, no regular exercise, change of weather/ diet, crazy sleep pattern, and not enough of what I do need to survive well balanced, and my body was starting to collapse on me, working on "empty", trying to survive on the top of a fragile cracking base.
What was the last "straw" actually made me almost fear for my life; Four hours before my most recent premiere, feverish, and with extremely low blood pressure , I fainted on a random doctor's bed (I managed to get my self to one, across the street from where I temporarily live).
Aided by some Intravenous infusion, I somehow phoned the opera house ("hello?... I don't want to worry you.. but I am in no shape to even stand up straight...") only to find out that if I don't show up, they'd have to cancel the entire show. (No stand by, and not enough warning time to fly anybody from afar).
I finally got up,popped in a few fever reducing pills, drank an energy drink, and then I went on to sing the premiere with all the power I've got within.

Since then I actually had tests done and found the physical source for some of my symptoms, which I will now be able to manage with medication.

Maybe I take things too much to heart, I don't know. I am an artist. I should take things to "heart"- my one artistically most important "organ", shouldn't I, but then I get so personally hurt by a nobody blogger who calls me a "bad singer", or by an opera company who might pass me by if I am not to their casting director's liking. I get so sad when they "don't get me", especially because I do make all this exhausting effort only for the sake of this one thing I know how to do: sharing my silly singing and soul with you.
I hope to get stronger, tougher, and to learn how to ignore all the elements which weaken my spirit and body, and know that if I manage to live and to give - I've not only survived, but I've actually thrived.

I got a blog too, baby .

2010-05-30T22:14:00.013-04:00

A couple of years ago, I sang Rosina in Venice. (you can still read my blog entries from then- March/ April 08). I was nervous to be the only foreigner among an all Italian cast, singing an Italian opera. Although I did alright, I agree that it wasn't my best, and for that, I got trashed by a known mean-spirited Italian blog (it's a group of different Italians who go to every opera they can, then review it).
At the time, I came across that blog and was devastated to read how badly I was received (by them). I remember a day of trying to get to the one and only, far away supermarket, in the rain, with too many tourists blocking my way.. and me crying the entire way).
I learnt my lesson- don't read these blogger reviews.

Something interesting happend to me recently. An older Italian gentleman (living in Germany) asked to be my friend on my private Facebook page. Since I don't know him in person, and have never met him, I wrote him a nice message directing him to my public "Fanpage". (This is my own general policy regarding FB, for my own privacy sake). He replied and said that he would come to see my show in Baden Baden. I wished him an enjoyable evening.
Looking at his page, I noticed that he had an opera review blog.

That's how I came to visit his blog now. A fan on Facebook. I was quite curious to see what he would have to say. (pros and cons).
To my surprise, his review attacked me in some ways I couldn't really imagine:
He was explaining that I am a Soprano in disguise, who has no low note, but no high notes either... etc etc: an unimaginatively harsh, cold, and hateful review (which was almost word to word similar to the Venetian one) but underneath, in a side comment, as he criticizes the "production", he mentions that my Carmen is a "Zingara, prostituta, ebrea e terrorista. Che si vuole di più?" (Gypsy, prostitute, Jewish, and a terrorist").
While you can somehow explain the "Gypsy", or even the "prostitute" (the costumes?) or the "terrorist" (I was at one little point carrying a gun), I truly don't recall wearing the yellow star on my arm or praying to the bible in this production.
In other words: an antisemitic remark which shines a whole other light on this new FB "fan" and his "review". (He is no longer my Fan on FB). .... UPDATE: Mr. gianguido mussomeli has quietly and cowardly erased his little fascist remark.

I decided to do something I never do; This just infuriated me too much- I responded to his comment.
I wanted him to realize that since he actually WAS in personal touch with me, I came to read his blog. I wanted him to realize that I am a human being, a real one, and especially because we HAVE met on cyber space, he might want to reconsider his offensive ways. ... UPDATE: Mr. gianguido mussomelli has quietly and cowardly also erased some of my responses, and other readers comments, and has left his blog nice and "clean".
I don't expect privileged positive reviews just because we exchanged words on the Internet, but reading such a harsh critic which is laced with an anti- Semitic foot note, was really an unpleasant surprise.
To my comment, he replied by digging up and posting this 2008 unrelated (Barbiere!) VENICE review from that other blog I was mentioning earlier. LoL.

I guess here is where I should really stop. and I am. But at least I am not crying all the way to the supermarket anymore (on the contrary- I am smiling all the way to there, to the theater, AND to the bank, too!) :)

Bad 'N baden

2010-05-17T15:00:00.017-04:00

The Icelandic volcano gained me a week of suspension at home, but I was anxious to be already in rehearsals. I actually hate knowing that they have begun without me. What I find the most interesting about my operatic life actually is the process itself. (Appearing a day before opening like what seems to be a desired situation to some of us is not at all my cup of tea). At least we had a few good weeks of rehearsing for this new (and very interesting) production, so when I got here to Baden Baden, I easily caught up with work (and work is all we have been doing- on a 6 or 7 hours per day, every day).
I think stress, which got me before hand, made me join the opera singers main disease club: "The heart-burn sufferers".
It's been a known fact that we singers get acid reflux more than anyone else, but I wasn't aware of this until recently, when I became a "sufferer" my self.
Here in Baden Baden- a disneyland of a town,(clean air, flowers and trees, smily vacationers sipping on white wine), I thought I would relax and get rid of the stress , but it turns out that the problem never deserted me, and here I was, several days short of opening night, on all kinds of medication. Over- rehearsing plus uncontrolled stomach acid is bad news for a singer, and having it eventually effected my poor little cords, I had to fly to Berlin on an emergency trip to see the best voice doctor on this continent so he could diagnose me correctly and try help me to regain my old self before the premiere.
No price would have been be too high to pay because I was so excited about singing this one: Period instruments and a genius conductor , on the top of a well thought -out new production with a most talented cast.
For this one, I decided to take a big risk. The conductor has recognized some qualities in my instrument and in my musical personality- some of which shown best at my gentlest; Accompanied by most sensitive historic instruments (and their maestro) I was asked to sing this opera as if it were a chanson.
This, as you can imagine, goes against the operatic norm, and against what people expect to hear from an opera singer, especially a Carmen. But I agreed to oblige and with much pleasure too, and interpret this music in a new and fresh way, where the audience can *if they want to listen* hear new colors and nuance they usually don't get from an operatic stage.
By that, I have almost signed a condemning contract over my own head, being (as I was expecting) criticized for "size of voice" .
But let me tell you- I take full responsibility and pride in my work. I so enjoyed creating something special, that I don't really care (anymore) if someone grills me for not getting the usual generic brand they expect.

In short

2010-04-08T10:26:00.006-04:00

A month go by, or two and I haven't written on here mainly because of the ups and downs. Sometimes it's just too much of it too put it all into a long blog entry.

Thank God for Twitter where I can briefly sum up my day with not too much explaining to do. The advantage of being a woman of few words is great when my voice or my body or my soul are simply too overworked.
But Berlin was wonderful, and the production (a returning one where I was to be the premiering mezzo, but for unfortunate schedule reasons, I had come to sing it only now), this production agreed with me. A bare stage with a shallow pool in its middle and sand surrounding it, a little black short dress, that's all. Oh, and everybody dies. A recipe to my own liking.
In this one, (unlike the previous production, see below), I switched back to the more cruel Carmen, the lioness who falls for the lion, not for the wolf. And at the very last scene, Escamillo's dead body which is carried across stage, is what motivates her to face her own death. Not the fathomed freedom she has been fighting for, but a real, true love which would be realized only in death.
Anyways... Back home, I managed to do a successful photo shoot with one of the best fashion photographers around- Fadil Berisha (some of the results you can check out on my FB page).
Now I am off again, back to work, 5 months 'on the road'.
Will update Twitter in between blog posts . :)

First meeting- carmen VS Audience

2010-02-04T13:06:00.016-05:00

Curtain's up. Conductor begins, Carmen overture starts. You are sitting in your dressing room. The speakers are up so you can here what's going on. From now you have got about 19 minutes until it's your entrance.
You warm up your voice a bit more. Scale up to high C down to lowest C, make sure all the notes are solid; For Act 1 "Habanera" and "Seguidilla", you have a high B and a low B, and an ocean of public expectations... Better stretch everything well beforehand. A little breathing control, a little jumping jack- just to move your muscles around.. get in the mood.
Minute 15- "Ms. Shaham to Stage left" you hear on the speakers. Your dresser takes a good careful final look at you, to make sure your costume is right. Your makeup lady also inspects you and secures the flower in your hair one last time.
You walk to "stage left". Chorus sings, you get the green light, you make your entrance.

HABANERA

I always find this first aria to be somewhat of an awkward moment in the life of Carmen. "we don't see Carmen" they all sing and then she appears. there's a little orchestral intro, a little "here she is" sung excitedly by the people on stage, during which Carmen, who is supposed to be nonchalant and a bit blaze' about it, (what's the big fuss?), usually finds herself in a bit of a static moment here. even if you are given specific instructions from the director (like washing your face/ legs/body/eating an orange/pushing/ fondling a chorus member... I am mentioning these actions because for some reason they seem to appear in many different productions), but even if you include these little fillers, you are still left at the top of a staircase, or the middle of a stage, stared by a big chorus and an entire amphitheater full with thousands of people. All awaiting your word.
You must command the stage at this point. If you fail to do so, you would have to work hard to redeem yourself for the rest of the night (or your career, really). This is the big moment.
The recit begins. You must be secure, poised, charismatic, in control, sure, sexy, alluring, desired, commending, and at the same time- without seeming to *try* to be any of it.
When the aria starts, the light strings down in the pit begin with a faint bass line which to your ears sounds like a quiet solo pizzicato- Lucky if you can hear it at all.
Here you start your famous aria, which is not only a big dramatic challenge, but a vocal one as well ,as it is composed of tricky passages; Like the dramatic nature of this aria- {*seem* like it is nothing, but in fact make an impact}, so is the musical challenge: Chromatically descending notes you must sing extremely accurately and stylistically , without the ability to hear much else but your own voice.
If you are not warmed up enough, or slightly too warmed up, if you are not really 'tuned' yet, or you are simply not feeling your best, it is here that you would be fully exposed, nowhere to hide, nowhere at all.
You are telling a story, you are telling your belief, you are being charming, you might be flirtatious, but you should never ever cross the very fine line between that and being vulgar, *too* eager, too much. You need to be simple, but hint of complexity.
You need to ACT like you don't care, but not really. Come to think about it- this is some good advice for any first date. :)

The advantage of saying "crepi" over feeling "crappy"

2010-01-28T09:29:00.005-05:00

Last night was my surprise premiere at the lovely Canadian Opera Company . I say surprise because only a week ago, I was picking my nose in New York and complaining about my life.
So this quick change was just what the doctor ordered- I flew in, I did cliff-notes rehearsals and then -bam- opening night.
What was returned to me, in a heart bit, was this immense joy I get when on stage.
Last night I decided to change my interpretation slightly- I wanted to add a different angle to my Carmen- which is more evident especially in act 4- after discussing the director's concept: I wanted to try take a more subtle approach where Carmen at the very end of her life still loves Jose, but decides to put on her tough face. (subtle, because more than anything, it's a tiny detail one can only notice very quickly in some passing moments, it's a nuance). So I added a bit more *noticeable* vulnerability to the mix, just to try it out, and it felt pretty good.
(You can see here what the *other* way to do it looks like- when my Carmen is decidedly shut to Jose's imploring).
At any rate- I am grateful to be here and be thrown into the water, which in fact is a refreshing fountain for my soul. Sounds poetic, but hey- when you feel content, poetry is one of the side effects.

surprises

2010-01-23T13:42:00.002-05:00

So as life is- full of surprises, I find my self in Toronto, about to sing an open dress rehearsal of a show I have never rehearsed (well- I got about 3 hours of blocking, a full crazy run with orchestra and chorus and costumes, and another 3 hours of blocking!).
Having fought with a slight cold and a really filthy mood for a month, this is a sign of destiny's love which I greatly needed and fully appreciate. More later, but first- I need to go through some dialogue lines which I haven't done since 2004 and try to remember from where I enter, to whom I sing, how I dance what I say and how I die at the end .

New year, yay.

2010-01-01T14:27:00.005-05:00

Happy new year my dear readers! Please accept my apologies for this big break I have been taking from writing. I kind of didn't have a great month (other than a few highlights of working with some very good people and meeting lovely new friends), but I have not had the pleasure of being on stage , in front of an audience, for too long it seems, and when that happens, I can't help but become a bit... well- negative; Not a good mode for blog writing.

I am very much looking forward to this new year- some interesting travel to places I love and miss (like Berlin and Tokyo), and a few new and old productions I am excited about. Next month I will most likely get me some refill of joy in my cup, and will spread some of it around! :)

Who is the real C

2009-12-09T21:50:00.005-05:00

Sorry to have to be quiet lately; Sometimes I simply have to keep things to my self, I am sure you can understand why.
What I can share, is that I have been following all the latest headlines that other Mezzo Sopranos are making (or about to make) with their very important debuts as carmen, in very important opera houses.
It is so fascinating to me to see how Carmen the role, and Carmen the opera always cause such a controversy and debate. Nobody ever agrees on who Carmen IS and who really can BE her and how it should be set.
Follow other opera blogs (like here or here or here to see what I mean). :)

The Loyal treatment

2009-11-27T09:17:00.011-05:00

I've been in Europe the last few days; an orchestral concert: preparing, rehearsing and performing.. To tell you the truth- I was quite nervously excited, having been so immersed in opera performances lately, the concept of standing on a stage as the only soloist, and showing "what you've got" in a few concentrated minutes , is something I adore, but had to shift gears for, no, change vehicles for.... especially for repertoire which I have not sung in a while.

Happy to do the concert I rejoiced that this engagement was the fruit of one conductor's loyalty.
I have to explain this, because if you are not involved in the business of performing, you probably wouldn't have an idea how loyalty is scarce here, but how so very important it is.

When you look at people in my field who have made it, you have to realize that there's somebody mighty behind them, who made sure they emerged. By one's self, achieving any kind of public career only by the sheer talent or skill or charm is super-difficult. We need a powerful and reliable "motor" behind us, who would push- start us at the beginning of our trip, and then maintain us on the track for as long as we are out there.

You see- even at this point of my career, I couldn't possibly have come to where I am, if I didn't have the support of a few special people like my beloved mentors, and some key people in my life who happened to be influential themselves.
More than anything, I am so thankful of my good connections with certain opera houses, conductors and directors who loved my work enough to invite me again.
Without those people, we singers can only hope for a career, really; If you sing once at a place , and never return, it's almost like the tree falling in the forest...as if you've never sung there at all; The public (unfortunately), has a short memory.

That's why, whenever I work with a new conductor or director that I like, I pray that they will be one of the loyal ones, who stand by their word.
When they say: "You are an amazing artist, we must work together often" I believe them. And most often they really mean what they say, but it's easy to let time slip on away, and promises fade like the very sense of security that they represent.

The concert I just sang was a little festive celebration of loyalty; The collaboration between two artists (and that's all we are, at the end), who kept the simple promise to stick together and maybe survive the fickle nature of this business through what we do best: making music, hand in hand.

Tavern on the green Halloween party scam fraud 09

2009-11-02T09:51:00.003-05:00

I wish to direct anybody who got scammed on Halloween night at the over-sold (or : non existent) "Tavern on the green" Halloween party:

Action group here:

We got scammed by Tavern on the Green 2009 Halloween!

News coverage (so far)here

Zingarellas

2009-10-22T02:51:00.004-04:00

Speaking of... A most enchanting old film, with what seems to be a very realistic portrayal of gypsies and an amazing love story (very close to the one of Carmen's)

Take a look at this film,based on a 1892 story by Maxim Gorki: "Gypsies Are Found Near Heaven" (Табор уходит в небо)

here is a clip:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e7diUVv1qEU

fate and fortune

2009-10-20T04:42:00.006-04:00

I find that my friends divide into two groups: the mystics and the not. I always had a tendency to believe the world of spirits, cards, stars, and magic. I am not a full hundred percent into it, as I really have to keep at least one foot and most of my head on the very much realistic and materialistic ground, but I do believe in the power of guided thoughts, prayers, wishes, destiny and fate.
At any rate, I was traveling to Paris to be with close girlfriends of mine, both I think have strong witchery talents, and we 3 ended up at a fourth one's apartment, where we were all given some "reading" and some advice.

I like listening to advice, because like anybody else's, mine is not a perfect life, and the things I so much want to achieve, sometimes have more chance if I stop at my tracks and slightly change the direction. Sometimes we are so stuck on one way of doing things, and we might miss what is just around us. So- advice it was.

But getting back to do my show (where I am playing a gypsy who reads her own cards, and foresees her own fate), I was quite distracted.
What is one show compare to the rest of my life? ... I tried very hard to concentrate and be in *that* moment, give my whole self to the role, to the music, to the audience... But I simply couldn't get away from a much larger cloud which I was trying to blow away by singing loud.

At the end of that evening (my manager found me in my dressing room very upset with my self yelling out loud: "fuuuuck!"), I learnt that one of the most significant persons in the entire business, was in fact there, to watch me.

Was it by chance? Did my spiritual trip bring some sort of misfortune on purpose? or was it in fact a great fortune and I still do not know its outcome?
Did I only feel like I was not being the best I could, but in fact I was impressive to others? Or was I fortunate enough to have a well-experienced judge there, who can anyway forgive and overlook a temporary weakness and still believe in me? Things take time my friends. I will probably only find out the answer to these questions in many good years from now.
At the moment, though, I am trying to recover from the place where too much spirit and too much material together just makes me want to leave the knowing to someone else.

From me to you

2009-10-09T13:38:00.000-04:00

Diva fit

2009-09-24T08:36:00.007-04:00

Remember this childhood dream?: You are in the middle of a huge crowd. They are all staring at you. The reason: you are butt-naked. You are naked, fat, and your things dangle, and they all point at you and laugh.
I haven't had that dream for years, but it actually happened to me , sort of, the other day.

A couple of weeks ago, when I was able to try my costumes for the first time, I had a big concern, (which of course I expressed to the costume department); All of my dresses (and there are plenty.. many more than the usual 3 or 4 changes), were designed for a completely different kind of body. For starters, all of them are made of stretchy, clingy material that grabs and holds to your skin.

Having been a teenager of 86 kilos, materials such as these, find no hardship in grabbing all they can on me.
As opposed to a skinny-girl gone fat, Fat girl gone- skinnier will always retain some schnitzel somewhere on her body, no matter how much cardio she might do (well, at least this is true in my case),
So, having dress after dress hug the flabby points of my body (which normally I know exactly how to hide), was already raising a big red flag.

But I do put my trust in opera house tailors- They all have years of experience under their belt. So for the next time, I was pretty hopeful to have a wonderful costume adjustment.

But when I stepped into my first dress; The one in which I have to make my big entrance, and sing the Habanera , (and in it I immediately transform from Rini to Carmen, feeling fierce and sexy) , looking in the full-length mirror in my dressing room, all I could see was a frumpy , dumpy, short and fat woman staring at me with horror in her eyes.

I tried really hard to hold my tears, and somehow managed, being rushed onto stage , where the show already has begun.

I made my entrance and started singing the first line. But instead of feeling like the desirable, beautiful woman, the object of all women's envy and all men's desire, I instantly turned into that fat naked girl, and everybody- the chorus, the soloists, the people watching me from the house, were pointing at me and laughing.

I was literally choking on my vocal lines and was planted into the stage in a catatonic state. That's at least how it all felt to me.

At the end of my scene which I just somehow did on "automatic", I ran back to my dressing room, and cried:
" I can't".

They all (feeling sorry and largely apologetic) had to agree with me, and the General Director of the house came by and asked that I should wear whatever would make me feel, and be my best . This was not only a kind allowance but also a smart, invested one.

The following day was my only (and final) dress rehearsal. In the morning I arrived at the costume department and we went through several different dresses and shoes that were similar to the original costume, but had a much better outcome. We eventually found a few perfect pieces, that got me safely onto stage, back with the "oomph" , and the security that clothes do give me, being the center of a large clothed crowd.

Prima la prima

2009-09-21T15:16:00.005-04:00

I have been pretty content here; Rehearsals have been lovely. Even though this is a returning production (and not a new one, as I thought before), the girl who is remounting it is a talented director with whom I have worked in the past (on Pelleas et Melisande in Berlin), so it was nice to meet again. And since this is (German, couldn't be else)- modern production, I find that in fact those "modern" ones actually tend to fit me much better.

Set in an intimate space (currently, it is a living room- a rug, a sofa, a grand piano. pretty classy), I feel that I can actually do much more straight theater and be *seen* and ahm- noticed (as oppose to being swallowed by an ocean of grand sets and choruses and extras and animals, with tons of props and different surfaces and flamenco skirts and what not).

Where all I have is a sofa and a Don Jose, the energy naturally flies between us with no artificial obstacles, and bounces off to the audience, no other distraction... which I love, especially when there's a good rapport between us.

Opening night is about to happen here. Unfortunately I will not get to be on stage for it , because it will be sung by a wonderful artist I respect and admire, (however-) not quite the one who has been rehearsing with my cast for 3 weeks. (me). But it's OK.
I am still genuinely very excited to get another shot at anther angle of the heroine in me, even if I'm not the prima donna.

Follow the (damn) (yellow, brown, whatever) brick road

2009-09-12T14:50:00.004-04:00

I have this eternal problem of what to wear. Thing is- when I am on a gig, I can't show up with JUST rehearsal clothes... Heck, I can't even arrive to rehearsal with "rehearsal clothes", I need to "represent" my self well. This means that the only shoes that don't give me backache- my sneakers, are not anything I want to be seen in. Ever.
So all the shoes I brought with me , are all heels. Boots and shoes- heels heels heels.
If you ever been to Cologne, you probably noticed that most of the side walks are built of little (impossible to walk on with heels) bricks. (But you probably were a tourist, and didn't need to think to yourself: "I need to look representable.". You were just wearing your ugly sneakers and not giving a flying frog that you are looking like an American tourist, and you were zooming around town feeling fabulous anyway).
But you see- *I* can't do that. I need to walk on my heels and slip fall and ache all the way to the theater and back, because I simply don't look good in flats. That's all I have to say.

2009-09-12T14:30:00.003-04:00

In my rented apartment in Cologne, there is a corner where I found 3 big crystal rocks, resting by the window. I naturally gravitate towards that corner of the room , even though sitting at the chair which is there, by the little table, is most uncomfortable.
Still, I find myself again and again siting on that uncomfortable chair, by that window with the three crystals.
I arranged a beautiful wooden bowl with fruit of the season, which I put on the table, by the chair , by the window with the crystals.
There I sit and carefully chose from my bowl of fruit of the season, which will be eaten, and with how much pleasure.

click your (stiletto) heels 3 times. (now start prancing around)

2009-09-09T14:23:00.005-04:00

What is it with my "luck"? .. Why is it that where EVER I go in the world, there's ALWAYS a bimbo with high heels living just above me and waking up at 7 AM (in her heels) ?

why fhy

2009-09-08T03:47:00.007-04:00

I am in Cologne, and after quite a tiring first day here, I am starting to feel much better.
My first and outmost urgent mission when getting to a new place, is to nest and nest well. For that I need a few basic things: First one and above all, is an Internet connection.
If you don't do something similar to what I do for a living, you probably don't quite understand that sick obsession and deeply rooted need to be so connected, but I promise you- Internet in a foreign place is like what my orthopedic insoles are to my lower back pain: salvation.
Upon arrival at my new apartment here, I already knew that there was no phone line here therefore no DSL, but I was hoping for an unlocked kind neighbor's, or some kind of a lifeline, maybe a T-mobil hotspot.. something...
But as it seems to be here- no German is a fool (as apparently they can get jailed for their hacker's surfing habits); There are literally dozens of WiFi signals here- all *locked*!
I actually spent some desperate time trying to knock on my neighbor's doors to ask for their password (nobody was home), and then proceeded to try and *guess* them. LoL.
The apartment was nice but empty. The TV spoke German which I was way too tired to try to understand, the fridge was plastic cold empty shelves, and the shower was soapless.
I put my things down and since it was a Sunday, I like the rest of Europe, was put on a hold. No supermarkets open, no dealing with Internet connection possibilities. I *had* to wait.
At least Monday was a sunny day, the cell company O2 got me on a portable USB stick which gives me WiFi wherever (What a fabulous solution!), I got a huge first shopping done (ground coffee, bananas, ricecakes, olive oil, and some other eclectic products that make no one decent meal at any point, but still fill up that un-lived-in-place feel).
We even covered more or less the entire first act and I still have the feeling that I am going to like being here for the next two months.

Happy season

2009-09-05T10:24:00.004-04:00

I am excited today, as I am flying to Cologne this afternoon, to start rehearsing for a production of Carmen. I visited the director's website , and it is looking like his work might be right up my alley. (and more so, my friends who have worked with him all love his ideas and his style).
So happy just to be starting my season. Work again! Sing! Good bye New York City for a little while, time to Deutch Spechen again :)

No slacker here.

2009-08-28T16:27:00.003-04:00

I deleted my previous "fanpage" entry because it somehow might make people (especially new guests) think that I am trying to "hitch hike" on the OC entry (where I in fact wrote an innocent invitation, a week b4 OC's mention, to my 20 daily readers I've had since 2005, to join me on FaceBook)..

At any rate; I maintain my innocence , and my humble, un-famous little corner in blogsphere, and if you wanna join me on facebook- find me :)

xoxo

2009-08-27T22:24:00.003-04:00

Oh the expectations, the stress in our lives! Dear - dear O.C readers welcome to my lame-o blog. (There. Now I got the pressure off me). :)

Defending Carmen

2009-06-18T16:37:00.010-04:00

The more I sing Carmen, the more I learn about her, believe in her and love her, and the more I feel that I have to defend her.
After a long and interesting path of 15 different productions of this magnificent opera, I find myself almost sure of my relationship with Carmen and my knowledge of how I want her to be, and how I want to portray her.

In my most recent production, in Israel, I found that not only did I have to "defend" Carmen, the fictional woman, but also the Carmen whom I have created.

Judging from the misguided ideas of some Israeli critics , even the ones who didn't have the pre-notion that Carmen was a "whore", thought she *should* be at least the cliche that one expects to see from her.

I so resent it.

I also resent that the bigger and grander the production it is, the more I am expected to be part of that grandeur...
Carmen wasn't this man-killer monster, she was merely a woman, a girl. Sure she had courage, charisma, beauty and oozes sex appeal (for that she was so popular among the men), but, she was by no means a whore, or a bitch.

I was so lucky to have worked on one on my very first Carmens with the Genius director David McVicar, over a period of almost four months, (this opportunity, by the way, rarely happens in today's opera world anymore), creating an intimate Carmen that was real.
With such an important foundation, from such an immense teacher, I hope I never lose my integrity and tools, and I always try to maintain that core, and only grow from there.

Today, I *know* in my heart, that the Carmen I sing and act, is for sure what is in my best interests, as an artist , to show to my audience; Not their usual big-breasted, big voice, flamenco dancing- thigh rubbing, slow moving, vulgar cliche they mostly expect to see, but something else; more childish, girly, even shy sometimes. hurt. with a rainbow of emotions and colors; a human being, my friends.
What art is reflecting in its mirror is just us.

The fifth Element

2009-05-28T02:48:00.006-04:00

For opening night of my Israeli debut, I was forced to deal with a few unusual elements: One was the extreme allergy to the horses on stage , the other was having to sing on Cortisone pills and a steroid inhaler (just to be able to breathe), and just for fun, I had to sing for the very first time with my tenor, who only got here a couple days before. (Of course we brushed up on all the specific spots we have together in advance, but we have never sung together on stage before).

If you ever watched my Online Interview, you might remember me talking about "not being 100% for a show, and having to know how to deal with only 75%).

Sometimes, this 75% descends to an even greater depth, and you are left with whatever is given to you that night.
That's what I call: Dealing with the elements.

In this production, I get to sing with three different tenors. This for itself , is not an easy task. If there is no sense of built- rehearsal process, and not enough clue as for what your counter part is going to do, things can get a little fuzzy.

My opening- night- guy is a busy man and one of these "nervous" types. (In opera, I can put singers under these 2 categories: "casual, channelling their nervousness into excitement and cheerfulness backstage" (*me*) , and "nervous"; Do *Not* Speak. just be there for them").
So my absolute calm and support, was something I had to provide, not only for my tenor, but for my self as well.
The horses pooed all over stage, and we had to maneuver ourselves, skipping in between their doodoo, and trying to keep our own drama going.

It was really not an easy night, what can I say.

For the next show, thank God, they realized that they HAVE GOT to get rid of the horses. I wasn't doing all that well on meds. and stepping on poo while singing the Seguidilla...

So .. I had no horses, and a completely new tenor this time.
You see what I mean by "deal" and "Elements"?

Show biz doesn't always smell of roses...

Can't be horse.

2009-05-24T02:27:00.004-04:00

The physical difficulties I thought were only a passing matter, have not stopped back then.... After arriving onto stage, I discovered that what used to be an allergy to the touch of a horse, became an extreme asthma to the area where a horse might be "parking". And this production, a typical Zeffirelli production, has not only one horse, but three plus a donkey.

For an opera house, having a main-role singer who can't breathe (and therefore can't sing) is worse than having to clear off the already well paid, beautifully costumed stable guys on their trained horses... However ,it is a huge deal to try and re-stage all the scenes involving them, and give up this big part of what the PR here has been using as a selling point: a spettacolo. a grand show. So we are trying all kinds of solutions.

On the top of that, having been weak for a month now (with an un-identified stomach thingy), feeling like hell and not being able to breathe, I was starting to panic.

The doctor suggested that this is all related to stress, and that I was losing too much weight on this "blood type" diet, and suggested to reintroduce some wheat and dairy (which I immediately did... being "skinny" is great, but losing strength and voice, is something I'd rather correct ASAP). I also went to a healer who has once helped me a great deal with other allergy issues.

So, I have been forcefully (I never imagined I would come to that!) gaining some weight back, so I can sing normally, the horses will be waiting on Stage Left, where I will never set foot, and we hope that where they pass, on stage itself, the contamination won't be too strong for my system to handle.
If tonight's dress rehearsal proves differently, as much as I love these wonderful animals, they will have to be respectfully released from their stage duties (and doodies).

How I should warm up!

2009-05-17T03:20:00.001-04:00

(thanks to Lar who fwded this !)

meanings

2009-05-16T10:22:00.007-04:00

For somebody who usually hears the voices of children and hurries away, just to not get annoyed, I was surprised to come back to Israel, and actually listen in on local kids' conversations, and to have an unusual reaction to it...
I must have probably found it painfully endearing, because I burst into tears, walking away , trying to figure out what was happening to me;

I was finally *understanding* them.

Of course I understand the meaning of words spoken by Americans, or Australians, or Italians for that matter. But here, for the first time, I realized that there is so much more into my own mother-tounge that I was willing to admit.

Other languages, are understood by my brain as translated. As is. But Hebrew, Hebrew is an entire different matter. Hebrew to start with, is a language with words that are like trees: each word is based on a root, each root has a stem, , which has many secondary branches. One single word, can have multiple meanings, connotations, and of course a rich, old history; General, and personal.

That's why, it just dawned on me, that all of a sudden, I can't let meanings pass me by, untouched, and live the light existence I usually do, where I can *chose* to understand , or *not* to.
You see, I can chose to read some political graffiti in Paris, or wall-posts in Italy, and I can chose to understand the argument between the German lady and the fruit vendor, but I really don't have to, especially if my day is demanding enough. When it's not *really* your mother tongue, you can ignore it, (like it's somebody else's child).
Here, however, I just can't shake anything off my shoulder and go on with my day uneffected.
And everything, EVERY thing, is rooted deep in me, deeper than I imagined.
The very specific smells, the asphalt on the side walks, the bushes and trees and flowers I grew up with. The sand and the dust. The mentality, the foods, the sounds, the innocent words of a four year old.

This suddenly hit me, like a huge wave.
To be continued after I somehow finish swirling in it.

publiRX

2009-05-09T16:04:00.002-04:00

It turns out, that this time around, I returned to my home land to be treated almost as if I were a war hero; I guess a certain level of international success makes people appreciate your home game in a much deeper way.
The phenomenon of having made a little name for my self out side, in fine-print English letters, has enlarged my Hebrew-prinetd name to bus-size signs and newspaper titles .

I can finally see how the big opera starlets of "Universal" must feel; It seems that no matter how bad their performance night might be, (sh*t happens, to stars too...), their ground is so previously- padded with admiration that the margin for failing to deliver doesn't even exist.

When people already "know how good you are" , marvel in your beauty and with almost religious-blindness, believe in your talent and promised goods, no matter how you'd do, like a cat, you will land on your feet, (and into a big round of standing ovation!).

I don't foresee that a taste of stardom would be something difficult to deal with; Giving a 3 hour photo shoot, a four hour interview and repeating the same for other papers the following day, in between 7 hours-a-day rehearsals, is nothing I complain about.
I might be exhausted, It slightly feels like I am cutting a deal with the dealer, but hey , what's wrong with sprinkling some love potion on my people a head of time...It's all kosher.

Land of anxiety

2009-05-02T04:07:00.005-04:00

I don't know about you, but whenever I go back to the place where I grew up, I feel like I automatically regress to whomever little person I used to be when I was there, before I left.
do you get that too? visiting the house where you grew up, your home town, your local park, (all looks so small all of a sudden , doesn't it), your family, maybe your old friends, (if you are lucky to still have them)... you kind of revisit your own self as you were. As you used to be.

The clock has gone back, and I turned backwards with it.

I guess it could be a wonderful feeling for someone who's had a magical childhood, and adulthood turned crappy... but for me it's certainly not the case; Not to say that I had a crappy childhood, but what I have today, in my thirties, is a way sweeter deal. (for one, I am not the 186 pounds sun-burnt braces-smile frizzhead anymore ).

Going back into childhood, turns me instantly into that goofball , with all of her problems, and when I can observe the situation realistically, this almost makes me laugh, (or cry), because here I am today, feeling the most comfortable playing (=being) the femme fatal ,sexiest lady alive called carmen, but at the same time, in a drop of a hat (or a 10 hour flight), I am able to turn into ugly betty. poof.

Usually this condition disturbs me, but not that much, because my visits to my home land, are only that: visits.
This time, however, I am about to work there , debuting my carmen, and showing off the adult that I've become.
How do I float above the muddy swamp of regression?

I've been having these anxiety dreams about taking taxi's there, that drive me to unknown destinations, people speaking to me in languages I don't understand, I get lost.

Today , would be my challenge to look the past in the eye and conquer that ugly duckling with my present tense, and what has become my salvation:

I . am. singing.

The business of underestimating

2009-04-28T05:47:00.003-04:00

Sometimes it's easy to underestimate the effort needed to accomplish your mission successfully.
"Oh, I can do that!" you think to yourself, basing your assumption on past events that might be similar, in your mind, to what is coming up. And then, alas, you realize that somewhere you were just so wrong.

Doing a song recital on a Sunday and singing Carmen in concert the following Sunday,even if on a different continent, seems a fairly easy task to accomplish.
But I haven't taken into consideration that the recital would be so extensive, emotionally and physically exhausting, and would demand a tight and pretty consuming rehearsal schedule. Looking for the right things to wear is another mission one often tends to forget as the much painful and tiring thing that it truly is. (Walking for 2 days around town, hysterically trying to find gowns. Yikes)
I also didn't consider the long flight to Europe a day after, the stomach virus I caught that day, which lasted all through the week and into the big concert,(so, working with hardly any food in the system), the busy rehearsal schedule once arrived in Munich , the constant singing (even if marking, still , using the voice and the energy), the jet lag, the nerves, and of course, the fact that this concert was a stand-up version ,(no sitting really, yup, on high heels. 3 hours...) as it was recorded for the radio live, so no moving, with only 20 minutes of one intermission.

I am now in the Munich airport, about to faint of exhaustion, waiting for my Lufthansa flight to board.
I think I managed pretty well with both my events, as well as I could, under all these circumstances , but next time I would know better how to mentally prepare for it a bit better, if I have to agree to it at all.

Travelers tip (#2)

2009-04-22T05:07:00.003-04:00

I am a very light sleeper, and being extremely sensitive to noise, made me go on an insane quest for the perfect earplugs. But whichever plugs I found, never ever did it. They always flew out of my ear, or not quite expended enough, or simply hurt me after a while. One flight, some time ago, I got a pair of earplugs on the plane, and they worked SO well for me, that I actually kept them in their package, and googled them, and ordered 200 pairs more.
These stay right inside your ear canal, they never pop out, they don't hurt, and they seriously block sound, as they promise. Check them out, and enjoy the quiet: M3 Earplugs

One moment please

2009-04-17T08:41:00.006-04:00

Just when I thought I couldn't be more occupied, (I am preparing for a recital), I got a call to jump in for a Carmen in concert, in Munich, fly the following day after my said recital, rehearse, perform, come back, pack again, and fly to Israel (Carmen).
I was going back and forth between Philadelphia and New york, in order to rehearse for this Alumni recital, an old promise I made to my wonderful old school, as a humble "Thank you" (and a kept promise it was, when I had to decline not one but two different jobs that appeared for that same time. What can you do, ye faithful).
But Curtis has been probably the one single entity in my life that actually put me in the place which made me a professional singer, and the one of the main corner stones in my life, to which I owe so much and more.

A recital was just the thing, and for that I have been planning and rehearsing lately, as much as I can (all crammed into a week and a half... as you can see, until then I was away and filled with Carmencita adventures).

This Sunday I will rejoin my special, old tutor and mentor, and one of my best friends- Mikael Eliasen, to present a melange of songs and arias that were all part of my years at Curtis. We will start with the three pieces I sang for my audition (Voi che Sapete, Schumann's Widmung, and a Sacha Argov song in Hebrew).
We will present some of the first arias I learned and performed there (like Dido's lament) and which I sang professionally
(while still a student) with the Opera Company of Philadelphia (Zerlina was the first, one of many roles I would end up singing there).
The recital will include some of my favorite songs ( Like Poulenc's Hotel, or Ravel's vocalize) , some Rorem (a Curtis alum himself), a couple fantastic chamber pieces (Ravel's Chansons madécasses and Brahms Viola songs), and plenty more.

So between x-xrossing Manhattan looking for a gown (I finally found the one and only!), polishing up my technique (lessons and coachings), fixing my aching back ( snap-crick-crack ), working out, filing tax, memorizing stuff, buying flights...
... I feel alive!....

My type!

2009-04-14T19:56:00.004-04:00

For the past month and a half, I have been developing a new relationship with an old lover: Food.
I have always loved food, and it always loved me back, but not in an unconditional way; Food has always threatened my physical and emotional well being, by making me dependent on it and afraid of it at the same time. If I wasn't exercising and watching every little spoonful I put in my mouth, I gained weight. That's it. No buts, no howevers.
So like so many other people in this world, I have become obsessed and depressed by something which I must do in order to live, and so life has turned into a daily battle.

A month and a half ago, I was introduced to a looney idea, that some random foods are good for me and act like a magic potion in my body, like good fuel, and some even more random foods act as a poison.
This is called " The blood-type diet ".
I actually can't prove anything of it, and as far as I am concerned, it could be one big bull, however, just out of curiosity, I started to follow it. (I am O+ and by that diet, I should eat some very specific lists of organic meats, fish ,veggies and fruits, and absolutely avoid wheat and dairy).

What happened was, that food and I are talking again. I have been eating what's (generally) is on my diet list, and food has been going through me, never leaving an unwanted ounce of residue in my fat cells.
I actually stopped fearing food. I started to believe in it and in its honesty with me, and I am feeling like a whole new woman.
I am about to go to Germany next week, the land of unbelievable baked goods,where I would blink and gain a kilo. But my darlings: I am not scared anymore! I will hold on to food's arm, and we will waltz through it all as a wholesome unit!

pass time

2009-04-01T22:46:00.004-04:00

At the same time that allows me to catch my breath at home, I find my self happily doing housewife-y activities that make me really happy; I cleaned the entire place, dusted, scrubbed ,washed an astonishing amount of laundry, organized the closets, shopped for groceries,looked at some new furniture and window treatments, and cooked more than a few very successful meals. I am possessed by some suburban spirit! scary ! :-o

On the same issue

2009-03-28T17:36:00.003-04:00

""where are you taking me?? .... Into the Twitter sphere". ... LOL.

TMI

2009-03-24T15:16:00.002-04:00

I kinda slowed down writing on this Blog, I guess because being on Facebook, I like to update my "status" quite often, ("Rinat is.. insert here useless mood/ action/ thought summarized in short sentences ), so by publishing these "status" changes, I feel emotionally and artistically fulfilled enough, LOL, that rewriting exactly that , but longer, as an entire entry on the Blog, is not at all necessary for me. (or for the one person who reads my blog but is not my friend on Facebook).
At the same time, (and while doing it!), I am utterly disgusted by this whole Facebook status, Blogs, and even more so with this thing called "Twitter", which is the worst: basically a combination of both Facebook status AND a Blog. It's just an on-going self-obsessed chatter of one's "status", published as a blog!
Perfect for important people with important bowel movements which should make the news, I guess.
Mine was pretty solid this morning.

Halt

2009-03-23T20:57:00.004-04:00

After Belgrade, I came back home for one day, replaced winter sweaters and scarves with short sleeves and summer dresses, threw in my corsets, hair extensions and evening dress, and flew to New Orleans. Here I was rehearsing for Carmen.
Since it was a "traditional" production more than let's say such as the one I did in Germany , it seemed to me like I was just there; The quintet around the table, the Habanera teasing the chorus guys, the bitter end being knifed by a dirty, mad- looking Jose.
People ask me if it ever gets old to do Carmen again and again, and I keep saying no, because it really doesn't and I really love this opera with all my heart , but what surely does happen is , that one end of production stats to become the beginning of another, and sometimes it's hard to tell it's a different run anymore... I keep needing to remind myself that HERE, I walk from the table to the RIGHT, and not to the left as I did the entire past 2 months right before this...
And rehearsing six hours a day every day for 2 or 3 weeks, for a show that your brain is pretty sure you just rehearsed and performed for the past how many months.. well... it can have its frustrating moments.
But what is always so wonderful to me, is getting to know amazing people around, bonding with this or that person from the cast, exploring the specialties of the place, getting to know the locals, and often learning something new.
I am now back home, finally, for an entire month, before my next 6 hour rehearsals of quintets and habaneras... I might look at some other roles just to live a little plain month without all this routine sexiness. :)

Belgrade dragon tale

2009-02-25T06:29:00.005-05:00

So, I am here, in the home town of the infamous Dragana Jugovic, who is best known for her Youtube video "Drunk Carmen" .

If you haven't watched it yet, well... you might get a shock. But anybody that *I* know, have seen this, the link has been passed around cyber world like a giant joint everybody wants a little drag of... It's a party piece for every cast (*especially* after a few drinks!) and people have been simply amazed.

Well, I am here and I decided I have to get down to the bottom of this pathetic, awesome, funny and heart breaking accident.
WHAT HAPPENED ?

My very good Serb- singer friend, knows.
So listen up: She had a fight with her husband (well currently Ex) right before the concert.
She had a drinkypoo or two. She claims that something was slipped into it. Certainly, there WAS a pill (or a few) involved, Knowingly or not. She went on. She sang an entire aria (Dalila?) which went alright. For the Carmen duet however, the drugs kicked in. The artistic director got fired.
It's simply beautiful.
Dragana is doing well. thank you for asking.

after and right before

2009-02-18T08:30:00.008-05:00

Where can I start? I've been so busy since I got back , that I really didn't have a second for anything. A long time ago, I committed my self to a set of concerts , recital- style with the lovely New York festival of Song (one of the only organizations here left devoted to the art of song). I knew that I was going to be up to my head with Carmen, with not enough quality leisure work time for the recitals, but I agreed anyway (for some hard condense work) because I have the utmost appreciation for the pianists who lead (and play on) the series, and for what they stand for.
At any rate, that's what was going on right from the very next day after my last Carmen show; Rehearsing and performing!
I actually like it because I never got a chance to sink into the normal dip of light depression after a big opera job is done.
Being exhausted and still running, is the best way to forget about how amazing was my previous experience and how usual life can seem without it.
I also had to do a surprise special audition which went as surprisingly well...
I am now getting ready to fly to Belgrade for a concert, short of a week, (singing Ravel), and then directly back into a Carmen production, this time in New Orleans! Back to packing.

How to survive (a guide for opera companies)

2009-01-29T13:08:00.010-05:00

I feel very fortunate; First of all there is something to be said about this whole "Canadians are nice" notion: It's true. Take it from me. I mean; I really haven't come across any hostility, any uncalled rudeness, even the homeless people here (and there are lots), are polite and lovely.
But from the genuinely nice receptions and donors to the press, I just have been feeling like I am back in my mother's womb; Nice and cozy, and loved.
What the company here has done to survive the recession , is a prize- winning campaign that's not only "nice" but also savvy; They decided to blast the media, overflow the city and invade cyberspace . And boy did they do good!
Of course, I personally, had to work extra hard in between long rehearsals, to go to interviews (both for the papers and for TV ), and photo shoots, and meet up with journalists in my "free" time... but the result was breath-taking;
Sold up performances, a cheerful audience, and a whole new layer of new, young (and excited) opera goers.
Well done, Vancouver Opera!

Opening night)s)

2009-01-24T10:55:00.002-05:00

Tonight, there are 31 (! ) opening nights (including mine) happening around the world! (that I know of...)
Toi toi toi! :)

24 January
Rigoletto
Metropolitan Opera
Yvonne, princesse de Bourgogne
Opéra national de Paris
Manon Lescaut
Vienna State Opera
Die Zauberflöte
English National Opera
Le vin herbé
Opéra national de Lyon
Fidelio
Canadian Opera Company
Tosca
San Diego Opera
Daddy's Girl
Finnish National Opera
Il barbiere di Siviglia
Opera Carolina
Treemonisha
Opera Memphis
Carmen
Vancouver Opera
Die Grosse Bäckereiattacke
Luzerner Theater
Kehraus um St Stephan
Vienna Volksoper
La Cenerentola
Florida Grand Opera
Faust
Minnesota Opera
Die Entführung aus dem Serail
Theater Freiburg
Nabucco
Opernhaus Graz
La Périchole
Opéra de Lille
Duke Bluebeard's Castle
Staatstheater Stuttgart
Quartett
Staatstheater Stuttgart
Erwartung
Staatstheater Stuttgart
La Cenerentola
Theater Bremen
Vespro della Beata Vergine
Théâtre du Châtelet
Peter Grimes
Musiktheater im Revier
L'Amour de loin
Volkstheater Rostock
Orphée aux Enfers
Volkstheater Rostock
Tannhäuser
Greek National Opera
Kiss of the Spiderwoman
Opernhaus Dortmund
Turandot
Teatro Filarmonico, Verona
Lohengrin
Teatro Massimo di Palermo
Duke Bluebeard's Castle
Mariinsky Theatre

Preview

2009-01-22T02:20:00.002-05:00

Here is a cute little interview I did last week.

Click here

2009-01-03T00:15:00.008-05:00

I had a pretty interesting time in between Paris and now; For the first time in my life, I got a temporary slight disability;
I somehow injured my back, (blame it on having to wear high heels in Paris, or on the stupidly heavy Baerenreiter COSI score I was carrying with me on my long walks to and from rehearsals, or maybe it was the stress) , but it has gotten so bad that back in New York I couldn't walk for more than 10 minutes without having to sit down and yelp , and I couldn't sleep through the night because of the sharp pain, and of course, I couldn't stand up and sing either... It was bad... and I think deep inside, I was ffffreaking out. Never mind carrying groceries or living normally, but my line of work, my livelihood depends on my back!
I always took daily movement for granted. It's when you CAN'T do the simple stuff, that you realize how much of a necessity it really is.
Exercise was out of the question, other than careful stretching, but non of my routine cardio was anything my condition allowed me to do.
First I went to an orthopedic doctor who suggested pain killers and rest. But when that didn't help, nor all the stretching in the world, I looked at one of these hippie "spiritual" magazine type of publications, outside the orgainic food store, and I searched through the adds for salvation.
To my amazement, that came in the form of a chiropractor slash acupuncturist named Dr. Schram .
People are very sceptic and suspicious about chiropractice, and so am I, but since Schram has all kinds of bunnies (and I ♥ bunnies!) in his professional hat, I decided I had nothing left to lose, (as I was gaining weight by the minute, and pain and hysteria were adding on some insufferable overtones to my personality).
The Schram made me cross my arms and hug my self, then he hugged me, and I heard a click. He clicked from the right, from the left, and that was that. In less than seven minutes, two and a half months of crap were gone, I swear to you ! Occasionally I get a faint pain here or there, but nothing like before.
There. So I might have been silent on here, and a whiney cow in reality, but now I have no excuse. Time to get back in shape and be thankful that there's some magic left in this world!

New Year

2009-01-01T16:41:00.001-05:00

✰´*•♥.•´*.¸.•✰ ♫☆♥
Happy 2009!

Look at that :)

2008-12-25T13:43:00.002-05:00

I found This fabulous Carmen, on my Christnukkah tree!

Happy holidays!

decisions

2008-12-06T08:07:00.005-05:00

Not too long ago, I participated in some kind of a special "meditation", you can call it, visualization of a sort, maybe a prayer.
Perhaps it did work, because very shortly afterwards, things started to move in my universe. It was like some ghost came in and started to rearrange the furniture of my life.
But like most things in life- not much comes so easy. Now I was starting to face major decisions I had to make.
I was offered different things that would make or break, but not SO simple; They would make *IF*, or break *UNLESS*.
Nothing perfect.
A dream theater would offer me a role too low. A stellar conductor would condition our work together with a role too small.
It's like I was handed a big bucket of puzzle pieces, but none just fell into place by itself.
I might have forgotten to be specific enough in what I asked, but now I am busy trying to find where the heck did my sofa go.

yup, this happens.

2008-11-26T05:33:00.006-05:00

What is it with Cosi that makes it a high drama gig , almost every time ?
Here is the latest news: the orchestra that played with us in Paris somehow managed to seduce us (no, it wasn't the money) to agree to an extra show, on the day after our last Paris Cosi. In Munich.
We would fly early morning, arrive there, put our stuff in the hotel, rehearse, and perform the entire opera in a concert version. This is *the day after a late Cosi show*. (go to bed at 2 AM, wake up at 7, airport, flight, rehearsal and show! ).
For me it would be hard, but not as impossible as it might be for a Fiordeligi or a Frerrando, a grand vocal task on tired cords.

But what happened on top of it was, that most of the cast got sick, and our Fiordeligi actually decided she wasn't going to make it, and canceled. (7 hours before).

So on the day of the Munich show, right before our rehearsal, (which we would normally use to semi-stage ourselves), we were introduced to our replacement Fiordeligi. She knew Cosi, but only a largely CUT version of it. (while were were doing no cuts!). At that point, we were already dead tired and stressed as hell. Learning that we now have to also worry about a newby and changes, and cuts, we almost collapsed.

But at the end, we did what we did; we just didn't sing the recits she couldn't do, and some soprano lines in the finales were left out, sung as a trio as opposed to a quartet. Yikes.
I really don't think anybody else but us knew the difference... The audience loved it... but I think it cost some of us extra grey hairs/ insomnia or acid reflux attacks... I think they should build a special "recovery- spa" for brave opera singers.

Premiere, etc.

2008-11-15T05:35:00.004-05:00

(Above: Suffering in bed...)
It seems like it's been a long time since my Cosi opening here in Paris, but it was actually only 3 days ago.
The day before, I did everything I normally do to prepare for a show: slightly warm up, rest rest rest, hydrate, eat well, and be in bed by 11 PM.
But, also normal, was the fact I could not possibly fall asleep by any means. I started with 4 drops of Bach flowers "rescue remedy" (it's homeopathic and natural). Much later, after tossing and turning, and turning and tossing, I looked at my cell phone's clock, and it was 3. Then I took half an Ambien. This usually knocks me out. But at 4 or so, or maybe it was 5, with no sleep yet, I took the other half. And woke up at 8!
This is bad news, when I have an entire 4 hour *Mozart* opera to sing that same day. (I say *Mozart* because there especially, one is extremely exposed, like a pearl. The voice simply has to be in top shape, the entire time).
So the rest of the day was spent in bed, trying to make up some sleeping hours. At the end I managed to do a couple more and wake up at 3 PM, and go to the theater shortly after.
This, to begin with, is not a great start; My head was exploding, my back was twisted, and I had puffy eyes that hurt so badly when my make up lady tapped some concealer on my dark bags.... and the voice? sleepy and a bit hoarse. Oy.
... But sometimes, you have to deal with what you have.
So, I struggled on stage, trying to apply every little ounce of ability, technique, tricks, magic, charm, wherever I could.
At the end, I think I managed to have a really good prima.
For the second show, I had 9 hours of straight sleep, fresh voice, and a fabulous mood, but it was just a shitty eve for me.

(puppies)

2008-10-24T04:02:00.004-04:00

On the same issue of puppies; I finally did find ONE dog I can touch here; He is the black- lab tiny little sweet soul, sitting next to his homeless, alcoholic man. They are always outside the supermarket, and since I don't want to support the man's beer/wine bill, (I got my own, thank you very much) I bought the puppy his dog food, and so... opportunistically speaking, I guess I purchased some "shares" in French puppy- petting time! :D

Puppies and babies

2008-10-19T04:56:00.006-04:00

An old girlfriend (schoolmate) of mine arrived for a quick weekend in Paris, away from her very own kindergarten in London, where she is the busy mother of three (!) young children. We met with another old dear GF who lives in Paris, for a leisurely dinner at my breathy apartment , over some wine, salad, cheese and good old memories . It's funny to meet up people you know from your old Israeli (not so classy) past, just off the Champs Elysees, you know what I mean? Life is just surreal sometimes.
At any rate, being the age we are, it's only natural that we catch up on the eternal issue of babies, family and all that.
Only in the past year, my ex-boyfriend had a baby. My girl friend had a baby. My best friend had a baby. All my old schoolmate from Israel are on their second or third child. So it's only natural that everybody's eyes are turned to me, with an (irritating) question mark. ("SO.. WHERE IS YOURS?").
I on the other hand, find it pretty amusing that, at the same hysterical rate my women friends are eying every baby and toddler on the Metro and on the street, I am taking in all the doggies and puppies walking around in this town.
In New York, I usually stop and touch, (and never can leave), but in Paris, (*like their owners*), all dogs are well groomed, well behaved and looking like a million dollars, but they also have this air about them: they look like they don't LIKE being touched, (or fed, or anything really), (unless it's secretly). And their Très Chic people always look like they are in the middle of *their* turn on the cat-walk, (the dog is a valuable accessory) so really: bug off!.... ("I got my poodle at ze Chanel spring collection. Mais oui").

wining

2008-10-16T03:14:00.005-04:00

I am not a big wine snob (If it's red and has alcohol in it, I am happy).. But last night I was with a good friend who does know his wine, and to accompany our most wonderful dinner of prosciutto, cheese bread and figs, we got this wine in a local private wine shop , (22 euros) which was a marvel:
Pic Saint Loup: Clos Marie, Simon 2006

So this is...

2008-10-12T14:11:00.004-04:00

... how things should be in life: I am happy.
the world is crumbling but I personally am triumphing a grin on my face. It's that I get this prospect of hope, and future, and all of a sudden nothing is so doomed any more.
Ladies and gents, I am being appreciated. That's all. And just by that, I get the feeling that I CAN be what I dreamed, and that I CAN have what I wanted.
I keep thinking: "Maybe *this* will open that big iron door I've been trying to push open for 16 years?", but then again, why think about doors and iron and pushing, when it is the MOMENT that exist, and at this moment, this door *IS* open, and as I am stepping out I can sense for a moment, this moment , how wonderful life can be.
I was just recently discussing with a friend how much we detest aspartame- sweet blogs (or people) that hide any fear, sorrow, doubt.
But I am allowing myself to have this rare entry today; (I can taste it: nah, not a sweetner; must be pure sugar, this one). ;)

Age of enlightenment

2008-10-04T14:33:00.012-04:00

We lost two singer from the original cast. "sick" and "grew out of the role" were the reasons. This to me, usually translate to: (got a much better paying gig ) and ( got oneself into some big old vocal shit), but I also am generous and hope for the better paying gig for the first, and for the illuminated taste in roles for the later.
Now with the replacements, the average age of the cast dropped, and having lunch with the 26 year old tenor, after casually mentioning my husband, I was surprised to hear that he had thought I was way too young for marriage. He gave me twenty something... Lol. Then speaking to the baritone (33), as he was telling me of his career, and experience , he also said that since he was older than me... wait, stop right there... should I correct him?...

Tomorrow is my birthday. I should be flattered to be considered younger than what I really am, (or is it just the normal Italian mansome flattery? let's say *not*, only today...k?) but at the same time, when people give you 28, or 31, you start feeling that *older* is plain antique.
And , being considered young of age , I start wanting to lie about it.
Is this when I begin counting from 30 again?

New

2008-10-02T02:32:00.003-04:00

There is a wonderful sense of joy coming around from all singer- bloggers who are restarting their career this time of year; It's the beginning of a new season (don't ask me why, I still don't understand why the operatic season works parallel to a school calendar), but if you go around reading you might realize that for us people who live to sing, this is no small thing; Starting rehearsals again, getting fitted for our costume, meeting our new cast; We feel our wings budding again out of our soul, and there's a little silvery hope threaded into them.

Today I am starting my new season. It's a new Jewish year, I am about to celebrate my birthday, and I am going to work.
It is slightly raining in Paris, but not too bad; Well dressed Parisians are walking their dogs and their baguettes and their little chic scarves, and I am watching from my balcony, feeling as excited as I always get right before facing my destiny.

2, 1, 0

2008-09-27T09:08:00.002-04:00

2 more days to chose what you take with you for two months. I recommend tranquility health happiness and a good voice and attitude.
In the bag: nothing so far, cuz what DO you take with you?

Visiting the big kids

2008-09-26T10:50:00.004-04:00

Going to the MET to watch my brotha , and hanging out back stage, always makes me feel like I am an elementary school 7 year old, visiting the cool, older kids in High school.

It's all one fine analogy, except for the annoying thought that when I grow up I might actually be too old and wrinkly (certainly for the administration) to be accepted there, (and that the older kids are not really older but not SO much cooler either). hr hr hr.

rich-poor, hot- cold.

2008-09-15T11:27:00.009-04:00

I think that people who have BECOME rich later in life, must have taken quite a while to get used to it. Not only to the money, and the perks, but to what comes along with it; The society, the mannerism; it takes time to feel like you belong there , if you don't come from there.

I am telling you this after having spent eleven days at sea on a floating very- rich- (... and ya betcha: used to it...) people's colony, and having had some most fantastic time, (and being a chameleon- naturale, I can seem to be what is needed of me to be), still, I am feeling exhausted.

On the cruise, where we had our own butler , free any-time room service, unlimited drinks and fancy meals, I was having an "after the premier- party" which lasted the entire 11 days.
We saw some port cities in Romania, Russia, Ukraine, Bulgaria and Turkey, and as much as it was interesting to see how the people in that part of the world have been living, I must say that I have GOT TO return to Istanbul , where even to me, your exotic blogger, this WAS exotic.
I thought that being a Middle Eastern, I wasn't going to find it so special, but I was wrong; Everything in Istanbul, from the amazing amazing food to the colorful streets and markets, through the kind and gracious people who live there,(most seem poor but dignified!) to the thousands of stray cats who make a home of their streets (and are being taken care of, and respected by all!)... everything was magic.
...On the cruise, (my secret wish to get a stomach flu came true, so I didn't gain any of the weight I was so afraid of, however) I was as sick as a dog , and on the top of it I got some sinus infection ( and by the way neither illnesses was too much fun)... at the end I gave in and got some $5 antibiotics in Turkey, where even with the flu and all, I was still able to enjoy the warm and breezy weather and all my senses were awoken.

I arrived in Lucerne for a concert, only to discover that in my suitcase are: summer silk dresses, shorts, sleeveless shirts and some performance gowns... At the moment in Switzarland, you can SEE YOUR BREATH, it is that cold!

Tomorrow I am singing what is for me a debut: "El Amor Brujo" by Manuel da Falla. Gypsy folk songs I am now feeling inspired to sing, dying of cold, with a dying cold, but still glowing of color and scent, and spice.

Pudding before anything else

2008-09-13T09:31:00.004-04:00

OMG OMG before I write anything about ANYTHING (I have just been on a cruise which took me to like 6 different countries, and I got dropped off in Istanbul, as you can imagine I can tell you LOTS of stories, but) I gotta start with a very warm recommendation for ISTANBUL, (go there!!!), and directly inform you that there's no better desert than this: ASHURE PUDDING

That's all for now . :)

hello again

2008-08-26T19:25:00.010-04:00

Yea, I've been quiet, quiet and quiet on here. Partly because it's been quiet, and slow, and partly because I bore my self when it's quiet and slow.
Summer at home leads me (very painfully) to do some unusual things such as going kayaking on the Hudson, or buying a Thai cooking book with the far fetched idea of making my own lemon-grassy meals (so far no lemon grass).
Then I was called to do Jury D, (sorry, but I cannot expend on that), and that filled up my entire 2 weeks with extremely fascinating tales of the city, however, I was so engulfed and so exhausted by it all , that my normal life seemed to have paused.
What I really enjoyed lately, was the rediscovery of my favorite part of New York City: Chinatown. (If you read my blog you might remember that I am and always have been hypnotized by anything Asian), and so the abundance of steamed dumplings and fluffy pastries and fresh fish markets and strange fruit I cannot name, and crazy- busy humanoids rushing and buzzing by me, felt like a little theme party thrown especially for me every day I was there.
But this is all over now, and I am off to a most fancy cruise I bartered for my artistic services.

After I manage to pack 20 something fancy outfits into one suitcase, and after I get into my fancy wifi'ed cabin, I will proceed with my mumbling.

I normally don't care for shoes, but...

2008-07-29T17:29:00.017-04:00

One really nice thing that happened to me lately: while window shopping in Dresden, I fell in love with a shoe. The Perfect shoe.
Well, it was a pair, and they were exactly what I need on my feet when I sing the Habanera.
Flamenco inspired Satin platform half pumps half booties. They exist in red and in black. If these shoes could chose a name for themselves, it would most definitely be CARMEN Jessica Parker. It's Carmen in Sex and the city, sipping on something sweet sour and cool, looking gorgeous.
At any rate, they went for *HUNDREDS* of Euros. (!!!). That's where I decided that , since the guy at the store said " zey arr mate in za U.S.A", I could probably track them down in New York City. (and at LEAST save the horrifying exchange rate business).

However, it was not such an easy breezy mission. I couldn't find them easily at all; They are made by a private company that only does exclusive design for exclusive people, and my shoe never appeared on any site. None.
To make this boring-to-you story short; I somehow traced an email address, I wrote a beautiful, heartfelt personal letter, where I described the shoes and bagged for their permanent existence in my (especially professional) life, and I learnt that my precious footwear, here, in the States (or , for me? their walking- talking add) goes for...
( :D :D :D)...
... shhhh , it's a secret.
I'll just add, that I ordered 2 pairs. Both the black AND the red!

Socca, so good.

2008-07-27T08:07:00.003-04:00

In Nice and Antibes, I had the most yummiest thing ever, and I can't WAIT to go to the health food store and get me the chickpea flour, in order to make a SOCCA !
Socca [Provencal Savory Chickpea Pancake]

Adapted from a recipe by Mark Bittman of the New York Times.

1 cup chickpea flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 cup warm water
3 tabelspoons olive oil
1/2 medium onion, thinly sliced
1/2 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary leaves

Place heavy (preferably cast-iron) skillet in oven and preheat to 450 F.
In a large bowl, sift chickpea flour, pepper and salt together. After sifting, add rosemary leaves if desired.
Whisk in warm water and 2 tbsp olive oil.
Cover the bowl and allow the batter set for at least 30 minutes, add sliced onion to the batter, which should have the consistency of thick cream.
Remove skillet from oven. Add 1/2 tbsp olive oil to the hot pan, pour batter into pan and bake for 12-15 minutes or until the pancake is firm and the edges are set.
Set socca a few inches below your broiler for a few minutes, just long enough to brown it in spots. Cut into wedges and serve hot, with toppings of your choice.

Magnificat

2008-07-14T09:51:00.005-04:00

I am going to Europe , the day after tomorrow. Singing me a little Bach. I noticed that out of the 4 soloists, 2 are old friends from my past. (well, 3 including myself, ha). I am only sad that Bach is too short of a sing and that this sweet gig will end in a second and a half, like a quick sip of port wine. But you have no idea how happy I am to hop on a plane for the sole purpose of squeezing a meaningful sound out of my soul.

More Flags more fun

2008-07-12T11:36:00.003-04:00

Yes, do go to Six Flags this sumer, yes , DO get the gold Flash pass . no lines more fun, more flags, more adrenalin rush more to write about in your blog.

My town, my life now

2008-07-02T22:30:00.003-04:00

Never mind singing; I've been hanging out, visited some parties in B'kyn, started playing tennis and also skateboarding in the park, said hello at the pride parade, went to the dermatologist and the obgyn for check ups, bumped into Edie Izzard and got invited to his show and after-show party, took a couple voice lessons,had a few mojitos here and there, bought a white jacket and guess sunglasses, got diarrhea but luckily I know this town so damn well, I also know where the nearest WC is, wherever I am.

Replaced

2008-06-20T03:23:00.013-04:00

I went to visit my family in Israel but ended up having a pretty full- blown spiritual week, since I was hanging out with healers and psychics and Kabala master minds. I didn't really intend to but that's how it happened and I also got some pretty amazing results I will tell you all about maybe later.
I also felt the far -away existence of my reality and how detached my life can be, traveling here and there and not REALLY ever surrounding my self with the kind of unconditional acceptance I so need.
I have been thinking about the replacement factor of my life; How I am constantly being replaced ; As we speak, I can give you three examples of current productions that simply replaced me. I sang there before. now it's back; same costumes, same director/ conductor, even some of the original cast, but not me. Normal people with normal jobs, might get replaced once or twice at their job, in their entire life time, only if they were dreadful. But performers, with their gentle, already hurt soul, get exchanged and replaced on a monthly basis.
How do I feel about it? as much as I understand it; Still shitty.
I can only hope that my dear ones don't replace me, and that my friends won't rush to the next special, fun girl, (or whatever, which exists anyway, just like good Mezzo Sopranos, a dime a dozen), and forget I ever was there before... and if they do, I might throw some auditions and find out maybe there is a girl out there who can play me better.

Refresh thyself

2008-06-12T02:38:00.008-04:00

I kind of volunteered to sprinkle my summer with a few musical occasions for the sake of music making and also for my own sanity (I am really not very good at managing free time), so doing a little concert here and a little concert there was a good solution for my soul.
Usually my main criteria for taking a job would (optimally) be made of these four little gratifications: artistic ,financial, and then prestige, and location, all combined; (so say... a fabulous production led by the best director and conductor in the world, with a fantastic cast, huge budget that pays me more than enough, somewhere in Hawaii, would be my ideal job, you know...), however , I usually have to compromise on one or two things of that list (in opera, unfortunately it would be the artistic part usually, and too often also the money).
My summer concerts most definitely lack the budget, but it's the music and humanity that make up for it.
And places where my talent is being celebrated, not judged, are high on my preference list, especially now, being beat up and slightly negative.
So my first concerts in my "off season" were by invitation of my dear friend the most wonderful pianist Lars Vogt .
We first met at the Berlin phil, doing Les Noces together. After that, we "befriended" each other on MySpace, and kept in further touch via Skype and Facebook (you see? if there IS any reason for these Internet social spaces, this friendship would be exactly it!).
At any rate, I arrived at Heimbach
a bit grumpy, and came out refreshed and fulfilled like I haven't been in a long time.
In Heimbach, I was surrounded by beautiful nature, a group of unbelievably talented musicians, and an audience so loving and enthusiastic, *I* should pay *them* to follow me wherever I go to sing.
Two concerts with Schumann, Ravel, Brahms and *Gershwin, (*in which , by the way, I so "let my hair down", all I remember is doing a little dance on stage (!) while improvising with the multi-talented classical- slash-Jazz (!) pianist Kirill Gerstein ) and I am back to my old positive self again, ready to carry on in this tiring and challenging career.

Travelers tip (NYC)

2008-05-29T07:48:00.004-04:00

Finally, when I am REALLY back home, I slowly get to the errands that were way down the bottom of my list. One of them , was to try and fix my Samsonite suitcase (my fabulous four wheeler I was mentioning before); Somewhere in the world, I lost one of its wheels.
It's not a big deal, but I either had to fix it or trash it. I usually go with the later, since there are NO businesses who agree or know how to fix suitcases. I tried the local shoe-man, I tried some others in airports and train stations; None deal with wheels and zippers. So my average suitcase shopping was a once a year way - annoying event, for suitcases that cost a whole lot and promise you a "life time warranty" (which is bull, because a) where do you send it back when you need to B) they don't cover wheels and zippers. which is what goes wrong).

But ladies and gentlemen who are in New York and are frequent travelers: Let me introduce you to a service I only discovered yesterday and from now on will save me my annual luggage burial agony:
Modern Leather Goods
At 10:35 AM I was there with my dead suitcase. around 10:50 I got out of there with a healthy and happy case, wheeling on all its four. and the whole thing cost 20 bucks and was handled by a really nice guy.

They fix EVERYTHING that has to do with leather/ zippers/ suitcases and luggage/ bags and purses. (and they are right in
" Korea Town" , so try go there at lunch time so you can also have a yummy bi bim bop afterwards!)

Spring time

2008-05-19T23:01:00.002-04:00

Excuse my silence. I needed it. Needed to recharge and revive and be home again, quietly.
And once I did that, I got a surprise jump in for Suzy Grahm who unfortunately caught a cold, so on a day notice, I travelled to Philly to do my favorite Schumann cycle "Frauenliebe und Leben" with Maestro (and the pianist) Eschenbach the great. What a pleasure it was! Nothing better than a 2 week relaxation and then a tiny little precious moment of musical intimacy, just to remind me that I might actually be well.

Angels of Venice: Nerio

2008-04-29T17:30:00.001-04:00

When I didn't have the time to catch the food market, which closes at 1 in the afternoon, and on the days where I also missed the supermarket, I would go to buy my groceries at old Nerio's.
Nerio is quiet and serene, and what he sells out of his tiny little shop in the evening, most definitely covers his rent; Tourists and hungry people would have to buy from Nerio, and Nerio would have to charge a lot extra for the trip HE has made to the market in the morning, and not them.
Slowly Nerio got used to seeing me. At first I just bought a few vegetables from him, later we began to talk, and soon enough, I became a faithful customer (who gets a discount!), and a welcome guest at his shop, which could contain only two at a time.
One evening, I was feeling a great need for a piece of chocolate. I usually can manage to shoosh this screaming little inner tooth in me, but on that cold and lonely evening, I simply knew that nothing else would do; I HAD to find me a little something cocoa-y and sweet.
I passed by Nerio, bought some red wine, zucchini and eggplant, and then asked him if he knew where I could find chocolate. (His store had none of that; just vegetables and a few other curious items with which one could, perhaps, manage to make a strange meal).
Nerio peeped out of his shop, looked around with a slightly concerned face, and then said: "mmm,no. there's nothing open now... but , aspetta, wait a second..."
He left me standing alone on the narrow alley, while he turned around and took two steps into the back of the shop, and dug out a little white paper bag.
"Here, take this!" he said , and handed me the bag, which contained a stash of old fashioned chocolate bon-bons, obviously Nerio's favorites, and the ones he keeps in the shop for himself, for a moment of need such as mine.
"Nerio, of COURSE I can't take this! it's YOURS!"
" Take it ! Take it! and don't say no! Basta!" he commended, shoved the bag in my purse, and stepped back onto his shop not before giving me 2 hasty kisses on my cheeks and wishing me a good night.
I got home and carefully unwrapped the golden cellophane. Inside, I discovered, was the sweetest, highest quality chocolate of all; made of pure kindness and 100% care. Then I had a good night.

Angels of Venice: Maria

2008-04-29T17:23:00.002-04:00

It was sunny on the day before my dress rehearsal. After I had my coffee, I decided to get out of the apartment and walk to the market and buy a few fresh vegetables and maybe some fish, then freshly baked bread and some pasta.
I needed to refill the fridge and get ready for a tight week of performances.
As I was coming out of the building, an old woman of small stature approached me.
She came very close to me and asked very politely : "are you the lovely singer who is singing Rosina here"?
"Yes" I answered, a bit surprised, as I still didn't realize how small the city is and how fast information travels over the little canals, as if the gondoliers were transporting news, headlines rumors and gossip from this part of town to another, at no time.
"gentila signora" she said " would you please be able to find me a ticket for your rehearsal tomorrow?.. I work at the hotel, right here, and would love to see the show".
I already promised my rehearsal tickets to someone else, but later that day, they called to cancel and Mrs Maria couldn't be happier to hear that a pair of tickets would be waiting for her at the box office before the show.
The next day surely arrived and like all rehearsals and performances do, this too came and went like a fast coloratura phrase.
When I arrived at my door, I found 3 roses awaiting me on the doorstep. On the pink paper wrapping them, big letters said: "BRAVA! brava! maria".
Maria has become a friend. Over the rest of my time there, I would meet her on the street, or at the store, and she would repeat to me the nice things her hotel guests have reported of my singing, and as she would tell me all that, she'd grin and be filled with joy and pride, as if she were my very own grandmother.

That which is good

2008-04-27T12:28:00.010-04:00

Four hard shows in one week. Three of them with a bad cold, and semi- functioning vocal cords. It is hard to see the triumph through all of it if you are a self-toughy like me, so on the (depressing) day after my last show, (where I don't have any more chances to redeem my self), I am gathering a list of all things that *did* make this a victory for me, and other little stuff I am happy about;
*My public. Some of them are rough here, but as this Venice has a small-town feel to it, "what people say" counts, and they said (to each other) that they loved me. ( :-D) (ps to my friends; you can see on my site the 2 reviews I got in the papers).
* My parents who came especially to see the last show were so ecstatic and proud to watch me from their royal velvet seat at this breath- taking beautiful opera house, singing this role.
* Dozens of locals that I met here became good friends. They helped me feel like I belonged, and I will never forget their genuine kindness, which feeds my own.
*I got to sing, and live HERE! in beautiful, wonderful, amazing Venice. precious, rare, fragile, magical Venezia.
*I had a most beautiful time (and where else could it be SO romantic!) while my husband was visiting me.
* I did it. I defeated my fears, (oh no; should I admit this publicly or am I going to pay for my vulnerability later?) and I dared at the face of self doubt, and hey: I did it.
*I spoke Italian. non stop. ( even if sometime non-sense) :).
(*I now *know* where the damn supermarket is!)
*Each and every one in my cast had different stage skills I admire and can learn from.
(* And hey, miraculously, my hair conditioner, (the one and only) , lasted exactly (to the last drop) until the day I left.Ha.)

comfort

2008-04-25T03:39:00.002-04:00

I am feeling much better, and am doing laundry. I love the sound of the tumbling washing machine. so relaxing, so homey. :)

Thank you Venezia

2008-04-24T12:57:00.003-04:00

Last night, even with the horrible cold (which is now up in my sinuses and nasal passages), I had a wonderful and cheering and loving audience, which lifted my spirits above my physical unpleasantness.
And the kind waiter at the cafe, made me a fresh squeezed orange juice which revived me.

More challenge

2008-04-21T04:09:00.006-04:00

While we were rehearsing, close to opening night, my (absolutely fantastic!!!!!) tenor was complaining of a sore throat. Not that we kiss or anything,( but it doesn't matter, we hold hands and fake our kissing throughout the show), in any case I started taking the minimal amount of "Wellness formula", just to be safe. However, it didn't really entirely save me; On the evening before my second show I got a very painful red throat, and throughout the entire night, I was sweating and suffering in bed (and extremely worried). The second show was a matinee. Dear God.. How does one sing Rossini SICK?
well, I did. (never under estimate the will power of a paid-per-show artist... ) Luckily, the soreness hasn't effected the cords, it just was extremely difficult.
They are shooting this into a cinematic broadcast, and onto a DVD, and I am sure my face, in close-up , looked like I was about to be executed at any given moment.
But I managed to sing, and I most certainly didn't forget any of my recit this time around.

:-o

2008-04-18T19:06:00.002-04:00

omg omg i f*&^ed up a recit. lol.

We passed!

2008-04-16T04:02:00.002-04:00

Thank GOD, Nozze di Figaro gets "Rated PG!" ..."This film contains MILD LANGUAGE AND SEX REFERENCES"
(... cherubino grin...) =:-D

venezia, week 3

2008-04-12T06:42:00.015-04:00

Italian men, I've discovered, have a weakness for femininity. (and I mean "femininity" with the most gentle sense of the word; softness, vulnerability). From the very young waiter at the cafe to the very old doorman at the artist entrance to the shop owner and anybody else in between who happens to be an Italian of the opposite sex; They all smile at me. They kiss my hand, they flatter and adore, they are being charming. They salute me with discounts and free drinks and chocolates and do anything that would make me smile back. Maybe I am being naive, but that's all it is which seems to be their motivation.
Having been here for a few weeks , I now can generally find my way (I have little marks in my head; "at this store sign, turn left"), so I know how to get to some essential places, and finally I seem to know many of the locals by name.
Everybody is kind. I don't understand it; Even I, even I get extremely irritated by the end of the day: Way too many tourists and way too many annoying people who stop right in the middle of a narrow bridge, to take the same pointless photo of their ugly girlfriend posing. ( same fake smile, same pose, same girl, but this time around different background: some gondolas passing by behind!). (yea, yea, I'll admit I've got a few of those my self... ). Just kidding just kidding.
While enjoying the local scene and making a temporary home here, I have been extremely tired. It took me a while to figure out that I am mainly, well... a bit nervous about my debut. (Here I will explain again: I am singing Rossini; the big mamma of virtuosic italianate singing. and I am doing it with a famous italian bunch who does, some of them for half a century, only that).
But I also realized that a big part of my exhaustion, (other than singing what is not my "routine" role and using every bit of technique I might have acquired ever), is the ITALIAN it self . The Italians, mostly, want to talk their own. If they can speak any English at all, they don't care to do so; maybe it's a comfort level, maybe they feel intimidated, who knows. At any rate, as much as I am (finally!) fluent 90%, I still find it exhausting at the end of the day.(finding my words for philosophical arguments on the top of singing countless high top B's and low bottom ones as well).
I went to the open market yesterday morning and bought a bunch of bananas; I hear they help reduce anxiety but also give you energy . (and, guess what, it's the same word in all languages! yay!) A presto.

Buon Giorno

2008-04-02T11:36:00.006-04:00

Venice is known for its pigeons. They actually seem very sweet and they make San Marco Square look like an even more happy and colorful place; They are such a perk here, that tourist with not much of a brain come from all over the world to buy a tiny little bag which contains bad popcorn seeds that some crooks here sell for a Euro fifty; (about 1000% profit), and the whole purpose is to feed these flying rats and have them gather around in demand for more (that's when one spends another Euro fifty, and proceed to photograph the event).

Well, these pigeons, about fifty of them, park outside my window. There's a low roof leveled just across from my bedroom, and there they wake up, at around 6 AM, and there they start to coo in a sound which to me resembles a bunch of religious freaks in a loud , very loud prayer, which lasts about 4 hours.

Mind you, I can't sleep come 6, and if I open the window (feathers and leaves swirl in the air and fly back at me) the pigeons don't even move; They simply stare at me with this look in their wide- awake eyes: "where's my popcorn, b*^&tch?"

And now:perduta

2008-03-28T20:06:00.005-04:00

and I thought I was getting lost in *Miami*.. Bwahahahaha!

Fortuna (a note from Venice)

2008-03-28T06:51:00.008-04:00

There is something I just can't explain about my past few days. It's hard to believe my luck and the way things happened;
After lots of difficult time trying to find proper accommodation, I actually landed on a wonderful little boutique hotel in Paris; welcoming and warm (yet with WiFi!). Once I feel good with my surroundings, it's not very difficult for me to be happy and do a good job singing.
The concert went very well and the dinner afterwards with Maestro and his fascinating friends, was just a great ending to what I can only describe as "La Folle journee". (Flying from New York, being sick, having lots of good friends I wanted and needed to see, go to rehearsal and do the concert. All with no time to breathe).
But what came next was really strange:
I took a taxi to the airport, where I met a very nice Italian gentleman who offered to drive me into the port in Venice where I'd take the boat.
On the boat, I asked the guy who was sitting next to me where I should get off for La Fenice. Turns out, he was going there too; he sings the "officer" in my production! (what are the chances!).
We got off the boat and he kindly helped to wheel my big suitcase directly to La Fenice (I would have NEVER managed to either find the place nor get there by myself, bridges and stairs to cross, with 2 cases and a bag!).
Then a charming restaurant owner asked to help, and pointed out my address; Across from the theater!
Then a lovely guy came downstairs and helped with my suitcases into his apartment (which he agreed to sublet while going away), which could not,( I repeat: could not) be more perfect! We became friends instantly (and strangely enough, a lot of his stuff is EXACTLY what I own on the other side of the world...like clay dishes from Jaffa , little glass lamps, and so!).
After a wonderful dinner (at a restaurant only a local would know to recommend!) ,I had a very good night sleep and as I am writing this, my favorite symbol of Venice; The winged lion, is watching me from right outside the window.

Subway time

2008-03-22T09:46:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I discovered my favorite way to pass time on the Subway (so far , it has been listening to my ipod), but last night I really had a quick 35 minute lucky trip:
I had a pair of identical twins sitting right across from me, so I could play: "find the differences"!
Lucky they got off a stop earlier, otherwise I would have stayed on the train way passed mine...

Back quickly

2008-03-20T18:32:00.003-04:00

The celebrations of Fallas in Valencia have kept me from sleeping for a while, with large explosions (not a great source of pleasure for anybody raised in the Middle East) and constant fireworks and the entire Spanish population rejoicing at the sound of noise, mainly. (but there were also lovely parades with pretty good bands and wonderfully traditionally dressed people celebrating; Block parties with live music and dancing, and all kinds of happenings 24 hours a day).
Now, back home, a big cold landed on my head and I am snotty and sinussy and miserable, since I only have 3 days until I return to Europe.
I could have stayed there, of course, and save my self the trip and the money and the double jet lag, but hey; Girl gotta get home. Husband, best friends and urgent errands, (like getting a work visa for my next trip and finishing up with tax) are the main 3 reasons. Then there's change of (some) suitcase content, and being in my own bed, in my favorite apartment in my favorite city.
I made sure that my hotel in Paris will have WiFi and so will (cross your fingers for me) the one apartment with Internet connection I finally managed to pin down in Venice.
So more to come from back there.

Rambling

2008-03-15T06:32:00.009-04:00

Am packing again. Some objects, I noticed, have not left my suitcase for the past half a year. like my black high heels; It's one of those things that come handy no matter where you are or which season it might be; There will always be some kind of a fancy dinner or opening night gala or an event where my boots just won't do.
So those few permanent items;I just gave up on taking them out of the bag and putting them back in. They now officially reside in my big 4 wheel Samsonite. (travelers: I can not recommend enough that you go and buy one of these 4 wheelers; Best thing ever for small European sidewalks and crowded airports, as they wheel sideways as well).
At any rate; I still have 3 more days here, and I am already panicking in happiness about the day I leave. As much as I enjoyed Valencia and I could actually be very happy to come back,(some of the things I liked here, are the amazing fresh seafood, the great wine, a few very friendly and nice people around, a fantastic "sea-world" right around the corner, and some cool looking streets in the center), I have to be frank and say that I am SO THROUGH with this whole Spanish "dinner at 10PM" thing (well, our Nozze opened at 8:30PM, mamma mia; This meant that most of OUR dinners started no earlier than ONE THIRTY AY AM!). Hello: I am a freaking MORNING PERSON! I wake up when there are birds out, and sun, also cars trucks and some people on the street. I can't do the usual opera singer "sleep till 1". What a drag.
So all I am saying is: I would be so grateful to be supper-ing at 7 and going to bed at midnight and oh, singing a role where I am treated mostly nicer than a little tiny screw in their 'build it your self ' machine called cast. I think I am over that too. I like to wear skirts on stage and pretend I am an important woman. How wrong's that?

hear hear.

2008-03-07T08:09:00.005-05:00

I have learnt that sometimes, your talent of performance has nothing to do with whether you'd be liked or supported by the very same people who have chosen to work with you or hire you in the first place.
Here are some of what you might encounter : Women who'll hate you cuz you are pretty or cuz you have a big personality, or big hair, or cuz you might be younger. Gay men who'll hate you cuz you are a woman. (yes, imagine, this exists too!). Straight men who'll hate you cuz you didn't go to bed with them. Nazzi's who'll hate you cuz you're a jew. And then there will be people who simply will hate you because. Cuz you've got a mole, or freckles or you are simply damn annoying to them.
Live with it and know that it's OK. Keep your friends and family and support circle very closely to you so when you are hated by the *&^$ that rule your career, you can always remember that's all it is.

Non c'e. forget about it.

2008-02-25T05:13:00.002-05:00

I have been making dozens of phone calls to different apartment- rental agencies in Venice. I've been calling private people, phoning persons who advertised on Craigs list. I've been ringing friends of friends . friends of friends of friends who might know something.
But this is the bottom line and my final conclusion: There is NO FREAKING FURNISHED APARTMENT in Venice that HAS an INTERNET CONNECTION!

Where do these people LIVE? I mean... How? , and dude, WHY? What is so fucking weird about having a damn internet connection in the year 2008?

Lemons

2008-02-20T05:27:00.005-05:00

Last night, after a 4 hour-long fabulous dinner (which contained of all sorts of Tapas dishes and a bottle and a half of Rioja wine), my Susannetta and I shook a lemon tree (they grow here just like that!) and picked a few lemons. It was only a little square in the middle of Valencia but for a moment we thought we were in the Garden of Eden.

midwinter dream

2008-02-20T04:21:00.005-05:00

Redoing a production; you took part in its very creation...
How strange, how strange. Trying to clone yourself. May I try to explain? ... The first time I did this Nozze, we actually rehearsed it in tiny little nuanced details for over a month. Daily, we were working together to build it from the very scratch of our... how shall I say it; soul? artistry?. Then we performed it for another month and let it grow. You see: We gave birth to it, we raised it, and at the very end we buried it. That's the cruelty of art. Then two years have gone by.
The memory has become as faint as the scent of a dream.... But having to recreate that dream... It's like having a flashback of your subconscious memories. Such weak signal in your brain, it is more like a deja-vu of a deja-vu. You know you've been there, maybe, but you just can't really be all that clear on where, who, how.
The other day I had my costume fitting and everything came on right, except, judging by the objective measure of the tailored material, my body has changed. I am not fatter nor skinnier, just different.
In rehearsal, I find my self walking similar steps, and even though I am saying the same words, ( the written word and note, the only thing that hasn't changed), I say it not like I used to, I address it to similar people, but not the same people. None of us is who we were. including me.
How strange. how strange indeed.

Not Zen

2008-02-13T07:02:00.009-05:00

Today is my third day here. Do you think I know WHERE I am or what I am doing? I slid off the taxi into my apartment hotel which put me up in a little flat facing a crazy-busy highway. My first mission , before anything, was to find me a local SIM card for my cell phone. But after going to the mall and realizing that A) absolutely NOBODY spoke a word in neither English nor Italian
B) None of the cell phone store carried SIM cards... I met a friendly Italian guy in the lobby and since he could somehow communicate in Spanish with the store owners, and in Italian with me, he gladly volunteered to walk around together until we finally found a store that carried the card. (and until he wanted to "cook me some Pasta and have some vino" and all else that married Italian men are interested in). I thanked him for his kind help and for his invitation but politely declined, and since my bro E. is here, we met up and grabbed some delicious tapas dinner around the corner. (and nothing can top meeting up with close friends in a strange place, ESPECIALLY when you feel lost!). The next day was spent on : repacking, moving to a supposedly quieter unit, and taking off to rehearsal. You must look up this bizarre opera house; It looks (and feels) like a spaceship from Star Trek. It took me 46 minutes to go around and around it ,(crossing back and forth bridges over fake swimming pool- like rivers) until I found the entrance, and by the time I arrived into rehearsal , I was beat. Thank God I already did that production and it is only a wee role for me.
Got back "home" to discover that the elevator is right on the other side of my pillow. Slept hardly 4 hours, went to rehearsal, came back, grabbed a quick dinner with my friend B. who is also singing here, went to hear E. singing this Alagna piece, slept for 5 hours, and moved to yet another unit.
That was now, and in an hour I am off to rehearsal.
And people always rush to ask me: "So... did you SEE _____ (put here any city I sing in)?" and I can then refer them to this blog.

Lol

2008-02-11T16:22:00.000-05:00

Just saw this chart; hehehe:

Start again

2008-02-11T15:54:00.000-05:00

I died. Then I lied there on the wooden old stage, keeping half an eye open towards the high darkness above, making sure that I collapsed just on the right spot, and that the falling curtain is not going to cut my head off, for real.
Then what felt like a hurricane of feeling stormed into me and when I stood up my eyes teared up. This was my good bye . Good bye Carmen. Good bye audience, (who began to clap steadily , in rhythm, louder and louder, yelling "Bravo" and standing up to cheer!). Wasn't that my vision at some point?

I couldn't sleep that night, last night. I was overwhelmed.
Now I am going to a new place, where I have never been before. Stepping out of the little plane, off my connecting flight to Valencia, somewhere in spain I guess, but I felt the essence of loneliness.
Even though I am in an airport, and therefore I should feel like I am nowhere specific in the world; The airport language is one and the people are too; still I can't help but feeling like I am on to a strange and unfamiliar adventure.
I asked the man at the bar for a "cafe con leche por favor" and hoped that he'd say I owed him something that stars with "Uno" or "Dos" so I can hand him out the correct amount of coins in numbers I can still understand. (just kidding, just kidding, of course I know how to count to 5 in spanish.. ;) )
Yes, here I am feeling like a five year old girl lost in a universe of a department store.
It is all up to me to survive until I find someone big, in charge; Until I become familiar with the people, the customs, with the language and with my new self in it all.

Laissez moi passer

2008-02-10T07:08:00.000-05:00

Getting ready for my last Carmen, before I have to wait almost a year to meet with her again. Quite sad, since she is my favorite of all, and none of the others that I will portray come close.
Lucky I had a few days in between my shows here, just to take a good advantage of this luxury hotel and its SPA; I arrived here in a mad condition; All of a sudden I had the time to take a close look at the magnifying mirror in the bathroom and to my horror, find a very neglected self.
So I had a few days to calm down and (when not relearning this bitch Rosina), do my nails, and work out, and in the evening, after jacuzzi and steam, sit with a big white bath robe and gaze at the nonsense on MTV.
I am packed again, and about to go to yet another country, another production, a different cast. Life on the road is like the special treats we stumble upon: it's shit and it's great at the same time, and we must grab it while it's there.

Not here.

2008-02-05T19:13:00.000-05:00

Are you guys checking in to see any piece of added gossip about my dad-to-be friend and his GF? forget about it! :)

How true!

2008-02-05T05:46:00.000-05:00

Time, not enough of it.

2008-01-31T11:10:00.000-05:00

So I have 6 days at home. four of them passed by like a mad motorcyclist on coke. I don't have much more time for all the stuff I was supposed to do, and still haven't: Figure out my taxes (since I won't be here before), take some voice lessons (to fine-tune and make sure I am on the right track), coach (I will be working non stop until my Barbiere, and trying to start preparing NOW, I am shocked to find out, that even though I *did* that role 2 years ago, I have absolutely NO recollection of it. Nada. was I even THERE, or was it a dream? I mean, I got my BLOG to prove it!...)
And oh, I need to *pack!*
gotta gooooo!