Photos, Meetings, Gifts

Ann sent me the photos of our Die Zauberflote adventure. Here's one she took of me after our picnic dinner, and then the obligatory photo in front of the sign. You can really see my hair all rolled up into a bun in the first shot.



I think I was laughing during this picture because I felt like an idiot posing by the sign.



I met with the elementary school music teacher yesterday. Refer back to this post to see why. So we showed her what Alex does with the rhythm and pitch cards, then he played around on the piano for her. She told me about the assessment for the Gifted and Talented program. The initial assessment consists of playing two sets of tones or rhythms and the child has to simply determine if the two were the same or different. Like, stuff Alex does for fun. !!!! The second part of the assessment may not apply as it involves playing major and minor scales on an instrument. Maybe he can sing them. Which means I have to teach him the vocab and make sure he remembers which is which.

Today I submitted the application/recommendation form to the school for the program. The assessment is next month. Of course I'm not telling Alex anything about it. He thinks all 5 year olds can do what he does, because, as he told me the other day, "This is so EASY!" I was talking to one of my cousins about it (and by talk, I mean, commenting back and forth on a facebook status) and she pointed out how thrilled our grandfather, aunt and her (musical) father would have been - the musical talent is still alive in yet another generation. From Klezmer in the Ukraine (my great great [possibly one more great] grandfather) in the late 1800s to the Gifted and Talented program in music (hopefully) in 1st grade in the 2000s! I'm proud of him too! (even if he doesn't get into the program!!)

More Grapes and More Cake!

Photos and reviews of Grapes of Wrath are showing up online. Of course my review is the only one that counts so I'm not going to link to the others. But I will link to the photos. The photos there are excellent, possibly the best I've seen of a performance I've been to.

On to more important thoughts. I can't stop thinking about the cake pictured in my previous post. I didn't, I mean, I couldn't finish it. I ate only the part that was soaked with chocolate sauce, so there was a pile of leftover cake on the plate. I want those leftovers. Forget about the dude who asked me why I was standing next to the door to the theater. (where, I might add, I was allowed to stand, but later I realized it was near the top of a flight of stairs that lead to backstage, which I suppose led to the question? Yeah, ok...) The truth is they should be guarding the door to the kitchen in the restaurant. I'm liable to sneak in and steal the cake, or better yet, the pastry chef.

Opera Project recital is Saturday. I confirmed that admission is actually $15. I've been practicing NOT cutting the notes early to sneak a breath in, and suddenly I sound so much better! I sing the note the correct amount, take a nice breath and yes, there I am on time for the next line. When I finally managed to do it and I liked how I sounded I started laughing! I love that. I can't control it - I just start laughing when I have these "breakthroughs" and I hear the improvement. It's the joy of making music - it bubbles up and bursts out in giggles.

Cake. Cake. Cake. Yum.

The Secret SURPRISE Phone Call

Banawoman, a good friend who I've mentioned here in the blog before, was lucky enough to go to a musical event this evening near where she lives. She called me before and after, for we always communicate telephonically before and after these events. But somehow, and I'm not complaining, mind you, her phone accidentally dialed mine during the performance, and stayed connected for about 2 minutes. What a treat! I'm not at liberty to say what the event was, so there will be no links, although my long time readers can no doubt guess the what and the who of it. It was bizarre and cool and there was no way in heck I was hanging up even if it was somewhat against the rules. I mean, it was a mistake. She probably meant the turn the thing off and instead hit redial. Who knows? Either way, I "suffered" through the guilt and let the phone disconnect itself.

There had been a chance that I'd come into a new set of photographs for the other website from the evening from a different source (not Banawoman, for, like me, she does not "sneak" media, and accidental phone calls that are not recorded don't count), but apparently that is not to be - people were specifically requested by the performers to NOT take photos due to "a recent unpleasant photo experience" they had. Wow, that sounds so... gossipy. And you know me, I try to stay away from gossip. So I'm staying away from that one. I honestly have no info. Well, that's not true. I do have an inkling, but it doesn't involve me, and that makes it gossip, so...

I wonder if at the next event they'll make an announcement, "please do not call your friends during the performance, accidentally or on purpose..." *sigh* It wouldn't surprise me.

Moving right along...

Right. Off to bed.

Rainbow Alert

Had a very restful vacation. Sang only in the echo-rich bathroom. The rest of the time I rested my voice and read the music. Also, climbed this. Drove past this. Saw a spectacular one of these! Here are a few of my photos, click the link for the rest.





Stayed at the most fabulous motel, ever.

Views from the patio:






Views of the patio:



That's some sort of fire-pit, filled with glass chips. The tiles are all iridescent.




The chandelier in the outside stairwell:



View from one window of our suite:



Here's the ceiling in the sitting room of our suite.



They let us peek into the unoccupied rooms before we left.
Check out this suite we didn't stay in!



And here's another, because who doesn't need a glowing red sink! The tub glows too.



Can't wait to go back and stay in one of the other funky rooms.

Back to the opera, and how it keeps me awake, next time.

ps I fixed the links for the rooms in the motel... sorry about that.

A Horsey Affair

Opera Co of Philly has posted the rehearsal photos for Rape of Lucretia. Here too.

Here's one I borrowed from their page. You can see the horse thing on his upper arm. Oh and that black harness-looking thing - he wore that during That Scene. Let's face it, Tarquinius loved his horse.

Lucretia Nerves

Ahh there is nothing like PMS coinciding with an opera adventure. It has this great way of clouding my judgment, causing me to fear the worst and take offense where none was given. PMS, that is, not the adventure. In short, it (PMS) makes me clinically insane. Luckily to those around me, I'm dangerous only to myself. (Please do not ask Husband his opinion as he would no doubt disagree and then I'd have to be all offended and then I'd forget why I was offended but it wouldn't matter because PMS does that. And heaven help him if he asks if I'm premenstrual.) Actually, now that I think about it, operatic adventures infect me with their own brand of insanity. It's a good thing Banawoman will be with me on Friday to slap some sense into me. Because I know that while I have posted the photos and links to articles and and interviews, I have been studiously avoiding the tiny fact that I am going to be there, in the theater, in the 4th row, on Friday. There. I've said it. I am going to see an opera about how a woman's life is ruined because some dude rapes her to prove a point. And I know that there's more to the opera than that - there's the whole religious thing, and no doubt a political spin - but it's bound to be upsetting. The whole idea makes me nervous. And then not to mention the unmentionable. People are on me to get another picture and I am on those people to leave me alone and let me leave the unmentionable alone. Talk about insane - I get the feeling that that entire entourage thinks I'm fragile in that, "Be gentle, she's going to blow!" way. And I also think that that entire entourage should know by now, from the last three months of blog posts that they've been reading, that I'm not, I don't and I won't. Either way, it's in everyone's best interest if I avoid the whole "new photo" opportunity.

There, was that cryptic enough for you?

More Random Stuff to Appease and Entertain

Mish mosh of stuff for a Friday. Let's see.

Twitter pictures. Briefs Included.

Seattle Opera, next season. Watch, look and listen. (on that 2nd link you have to flip through the pages. Mouse around and you'll figure it out.

More Seattle Opera, this season. Elizabeth Caballero as Susanna in Marriage of Figaro. You have to flip through the album to find her as they have two casts.

Finally, the cats.

Diego in his castle:


Remember the friend I stayed with in NYC? The pregnant one? Here's her belly and also her cat enjoying a drink:


And then... Oh my who let these alpacas in?

The Official Unofficial Review

Before I begin, I feel the need to mention my disclaimer: I do not do a professional musical review. I write about my experience, my perception, my impressions. If you are looking for a professional review that uses musical terms and so on, you are reading the wrong blog.

Ok, now that I've taken care of business...

Day 1:

I got to Penn Station at about 4:15 and met my friend at 4:30. We walked uptown, took a few photos



and then made our way to the restaurant. She had made a reservation at the same place I went to back in October before Lucia.We went around the corner from the place, found a little courtyard with benches and went in to change into our heels. I'm sure we weren't the first to do that there and we won't be the last. So we walk in and she jokes with the guys there that she was allowed out for the evening... everyone laughs, we sit. A minute later the maitre d' (I looked that up, that's how it's spelled) came over with two glasses of champagne, "To celebrate being let out for the evening." Nice, huh? So we ordered the 4 veggie, 3 seafood plate from the antipasto bar and of course I got those yummy tiny octopuses. Yum!!!! Tentacles, suckers and all. Perhaps this time the champagne affected my gross-food meter? But I'm sober now and salivating at the thought of those yummy tiny things. Ok moving on, I also ordered the special salad of the day which included caramelized pears and candied pecans. Or maybe it was walnuts. I don't even remember. It was like dessert with mixed greens. I also ordered a drink called a Pear Sidecar, your typical girltini drink with a caramelized pear in it and a cinnamon-coated rim. I should have taken a photo of it. Well now I have an excuse to go back and order it again. During the meal the maitre d' came around again with a tray of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies and he was giving a cookie to each diner. When I say tray, I mean, from the oven, and he was using a spatula. It was odd, sort of, but fabulous. The cookie was scrumptious. Then we hobbled our way across the street and into the Met. Up, up, up the stairs, all the way to the top.



I wrote about the show here. There's really not much more to say. The singing was superb. Sound flows out of Juan Diego Florez like shimmering liquid, like honey. It is unbelievable really, that a person can produce the sounds he produces, yet he does it. He sounded better than I have ever heard him before - in any recording, any live performance, anywhere. He was amazing. Natalie Dessay is like a bird. The setting was confusing and stupid. At points the sound was a little muddy - I wonder if the seat location had anything to do with it? Anyway, I should have saved my money and gotten a score desk ticket.

Afterwards we joined the press of bodies jamming down the stairs and out the door. My friend and I parted, I hopped in a taxi and made my way across town to the apartment of another friend.

Next day my other friend and I hung around, wandered around, hung around some more. We popped in and out of shops and I got this adorable hat - I'll have to post a photo. We hadn't seen each other for like 20 years but we fell immediately back into that easy friendship and conversation as if it had merely been a few weeks. You know... the performances, the fashion, the backstage adventures... they were all fun... but hanging with my friend was really the best part of the weekend. I'm just realizing that now and I am such a dork that I'm actually getting weepy as I type this. Damn hormones. She happens to be pregnant so some of those hormones probably wafted over and entered my bloodstream. Not to make me pregnant (that's not how it works kids) but enough to make me weepy.

Ok... so we hit ourselves with pretty sticks and hopped on the bus to go back across town to Lincoln Center. At Alice Tully Hall there's a new little cafe. We met a fellow blogger there and had a nice little dinner before the performance. My friend didn't have a ticket so she went home and my other dinner companion and I went in. It's really pretty in the theater. I wasn't about to whip out my camera and take a photo, so I whipped out my phone instead and did this self-portrait before the performance. Ok, I'll admit, I wanted to see just how frizzy my hair was at this point. It was Frizzy.



You can see the paneling on the walls - it was really pretty. At some point these black curtain things rolled down over the side walls.

Here is a pre-performance shot from my seat. I was in the 4th row, pretty much right in the middle.



It was a concert staging. There were three or four rows of chairs on the stage for the chorus and principals. Everyone had a looseleaf notebook of the music. Whoever was singing would move forward to the music stand and microphone. They were all formally dressed in tuxedos and gowns.

The performance was great. As you can see from the picture, there was a screen behind the singers, but they didn't go nuts with the pictures - it was subtle and often quite funny. It was obvious that the performers didn't know what was on the screen because when the audience laughed they'd peek behind.

The songs were your sort of catchy generic Broadway type songs with silly clever lyrics. The singing was fab. Nathan was great. In my opinion the woman who played Angela was the best. Her voice was angelic (no pun intended), a beautiful high soprano, clear as a bell, just a delight to listen to. Her name is Anna Christy. I do believe I would go out of my way to see a performance she is in. Everyone was great. The roles are all so silly and they all looked like they were having a blast. One singer played several different characters and just changed his hat each time. There was a narrator who didn't sing but had some great descriptive lines along the way. The whole thing was so well done. I'd never seen a performance in that format and I didn't know how I would like it, but it was just delightful.

Ok so the plot... I'll just copy it from here. Benvenuto Cellini, the great Florentine sculptor, is sentenced to hang, but he is pardoned when the duke realizes that he has not completed a previously commissioned sculpture. Freed, he is able to turn his attention to his favorite model (and object of his affections), Angela. The Duke also is interested in Angela. Thus, Cellini does his best to keep the Duke away from Angela. Meanwhile, he finds he has to keep himself away from the Duchess! At the end of the show, Cellini escapes yet another death sentence by fleeing to Paris.

Yes, your typical mayhem and madness, sneaking around and so on, with catchy tunes and silly lyrics.

I already wrote about the pre and post-show adventures here.

I'm still deciding if I should post the picture or not. Ah, what the heck. Half head and frizzy hair, here we go. For anyone who doubted, here's the photographic evidence that I was there. Proof. And poof - my hair, that is. Poof. So much for anti-frizz curl-enhancing products.

Photo Bonanza! The Gunns in Oberlin

Fellow blogger, professional photographer and Gunnfan Sharon L. also attended the Oberlin Recital last night. Here, posted with her permission, are the fabulous photos she took. Thanks Sharon!

Cluck Cluck

While I was gone, these photos from the San Fran Flute appeared, along with the reviews. Who cares about the reviews. Look at these crazy photos! Ahh! I just got frightened, for a moment.







Which came first? The chicken or the egg? Or... the bewb? Eep.

"Have You Seen My...?"

I wasn't going to do it, but then I said, Oh, what the hay. Pictures lifted from the Lyric's web site and cropped for my nefarious blogging purposes.

1.


Have you seen the drawstring to my pants? I think I'm about to lose them.

2.

Have you seen my Wonder Woman arm cuffs? I need them for protection.

3.

Have you seen my...

Sorry, Dear Readers, but I can't bring myself to type it.
But notice that he does have the Wonder Woman arm cuffs on, so at least he's protected.

Cats in My Tessitura

Voice lesson yesterday. Wasn't finding it. It was in me. I had it the day before. Had a bit of tension in me though and couldn't figure out how to get rid of it to relax and open my throat. It's so frustrating. Why can't I produce That Sound, that rounded, full and beautiful Sound, all the time?

We did vocalises (sp??) for much of the class just to practice that. I have to get the memory of the sound into my muscles, into my body, so that the whole thing comes together when I want it to.

My homework is to go over Ouvre ton coeur, aaaahhhs only, then vowels only, and not to add the consonants back in until next Tuesday. So Tuesday will not only be the first day of Rosh Hashanana, it will also be Consonant Day.

Wow that all barely makes sense but I'll restrain from editing it.

I have access to a photograph that you, dear reader, may find interesting, however I must pursue the Proper Channels before posting it. It's possible that the Channel may say "What? Are you f'ing kidding me? No way!" but it's just as likely that the Channel will say, "Sure, whatever." So if the picture appears in a future post, you'll know the answer. If not, you'll just have to wonder.

Cat Pic Friday:


Viola glares at the paparazzi.



Diego cozies up to his scotch.


This next one is blurry but I love how it makes his canines look longer. Why felines have canines is a subject for another post. Uh... another post on another blog.


Arrggh, get away from me scotch or I'll bite ya with me canines.

The Birth of a Picture

Well, it took 9 months, but I finally got a copy of that picture that was taken in December at the Met after seeing Romeo. The person whose camera it was on cropped the pic to just show me. Not sure why.... But here I am, glowing with the post-opera happiness. Of course this was before I got car sick in the limo on the way home... good thing I shopped, that bag came in handy...



That picture looks disturbingly like this one of me from last Halloween, minus the blackened nose and whiskers...




And that very nicely leads us to ... CAT PIC FRIDAY!

Here are Viola and Dear Departed Sebastian, when they were kittens. Viola has the white paws and her eyes are open.



And here's Diego when HE was a kitten:

The Ridiculous Costume

A professional photographer comes to the show to take pictures, and he also does professional head shots for what they say is a reasonable price. Not that I would know.

Turns out he was there today and snagged a couple of shots of the costume that stopped the show with a fit of giggles:



These photos were taken by photographer Jeff Reeder. Look, not only does he have that professional web page, he also keeps a blog. Check it out!

"Does Anyone Here Know How to Use an iPhone?"

asked Juan Diego, after one person took blurry pictures, and the next cut his head off. "I think you and I might be the only ones," I said, turning to him, "I'm happy to stand here with your arm around me for as long as it takes to get a good shot, but I don't want to hog you. Everyone here wants a piece of you." Yes, I actually said that. So here are the craptastic photos. Several people were taking pictures of us with their own cameras but I was too boneheaded to think to give them my email address. So if on the odd chance any of you read this, and you have pictures of me and the Florezberry, please post a comment!

Details on the rest of the evening to follow tomorrow. Tomorrow! OMG! Tomorrow is my birthday. Happy Birthday, me.

Here I am at Intermission: *Heh heh I stretched out the picture so I look taller and a little thinner. I like that feature of blogger!

Is this legitimate????

Blurry and cut off pictures of me and the Florezberry himself, Juan Diego Florez.