Passion

A lot of my posts lately have started with me remembering something from childhood or teen years. This one is sparked by something I recall from my early twenties.

Soon after college, it seemed to me that most of my friends had some sort of passion. Medical school, midwifery, birdwatching, art, writing and so on. They all seemed to have something in their lives that made them feel complete, something they could immerse themselves in and come up with something to show for it, some sort of product - a career, a piece of artwork, a play, a performance. I felt a little left out. I wondered, "Where's MY passion? How can I just toodle along life, liking lots of different things, but not having a passion?" So now I realize that I just wasn't ready for it. Don't know why, don't really care. Here I am now. I do get wistful and wish I had started studying music in high-school and college. But there's nothing I can do about that.

It's funny because many people have told me that I'm brave for starting to study voice at 40. Then they usually go on to say how they've always wanted to study voice, or sometimes it's some other thing they've "always wanted to do." Well, why not just do it? Time will move forward whether you do it or not, so you might as well start. I don't feel brave about it - I just feel... I don't know... ready. I felt ready. So even though I may regret not starting earlier, it doesn't matter - I couldn't have started before I did because I just wasn't ready.

What's interesting is, I also love love love making earrings. I could call it a passion. I get in The Zone when I'm trying to find the right combo of beads, and when I do, I can actually feel it. Like, a chemical is released in my brain - an endorphin, perhaps? I get the, "Yes, that's right," feeling, and then I know I'm done with that pair. However, my passion for making earrings waxes and wanes. I have these surges where I'm constantly thinking about beads, looking at my beads, looking for new beads, and then I need time off. With music, I can't get enough. The, "Yes, that's right" feeling is bigger. It's huge. I want it. I want it now - I'm impatient. I know I need to build my voice step-by-step, but at the same time I want it all now. It's more than simply being addicted to the adrenaline or endorphin surge. Well, I think it's more. It seems to be. It's this sense of the music opening me up, spiraling around me, being part of me or me being part of it or something... I can get that feeling from listening to certain pieces of music, but it's much more intense when I'm creating the vibrations myself. I'm creating it - I'm a part of it. And I'm becoming more a part of it as I improve. It's amazing. It's an amazing feeling. Also, studying voice has forced me to open up, it's a form of communication. Right now it's allowing me to communicate with myself, but as I have more opportunities to perform I'll be able to share that with people. I've done that already a few times. I think that's one reason I post so many videos - I'm like a child saying, "Look at this! Isn't this great?" And I don't mean my singing, I mean the feeling of singing. It's like being in love - I want to share it with the world. So maybe it is endorphins.

So, I know it sounds sappy, and it makes me weepy to realize it (it's ok, we all know I have a low weep-threshold) - I truly believe I have found my passion.

Dots and Dashes

Before I started studying voice, I considered sheet music a foreign language. It was so confusing - all those lines and dots and curvy parts and what not, and then to make it even more confusing, someone put some Italian words on it in italics. I'd glance at music and see this jumble. I'd often wonder at how a musician can translate it all into music when it just made my eyes go all wonky.

So yesterday I saw the sheet music for Batti Batti sitting on the dining room table and the page of notes on the staff was comforting. I saw it and I felt happy, I felt... I don't know, I can't explain it - it felt familiar. So for someone who actually can read music at a glance, what must it be like? Is it like glancing at a page in a book? Do they hear the music in their head? Is the sight of sheet music comforting?

When I pick up sheet music and struggle to read it, it's like entering another world. I wish I had learned as a child - I wonder if, like everything else, it's easier for a child to learn to read music than for an adult.

Off I go to practice reading music.

The Melting Explosion

Despite appearances, I have not forgotten the music. Was listening to Arias for Rubini today. Ahhhh that voice. I'd still do anything Juan Diego Florez asked, if he'd sing his request. And I've been so focused on seeing the Gunnster in Firebrand of Florence in March that I have to keep reminding myself that I'm seeing Juan Diego and Natalie Dessay the day before. My brain is going to melt. Or explode. Or possibly both. Order is irrelevant. Explode, then melt. Melt, then explode. Either way. Then there's my whole "gotta get backstage" attitude. Not for the Met - but somehow, some way... I am not going to see Nathan Gunn perform without an in-person hello. Nope. And I'd really rather do it inside than out. And as you can guess, I'm working on that.

Lest We Forget...

...in spite of all the silliness, it really is all about the music. Someone pointed out to me that they don't care about singers off stage - it's about how they sing, not how they look or behave. Perhaps my posts have gotten off track with all the stage-door silliness, but it really has been about the music all along.

When I went to Romeo, I had no thoughts of waiting by the stage door to meet Nathan. Of course I was excited to see him perform live. But the whole experience of that evening was what it was all about - I had no thoughts of trying to meet anyone. Here's yet another post about the music.

When I bought my ticket to Chicago, it was to see Nathan Gunn and Juan Diego Florez perform together, not to meet them. I vacillated about waiting at the stage door or not for them, and was leaning towards not... and then the Fishbone happened, and I went to the NJ Opera party and met John. He invited me backstage in Chicago and, well, Nathan and Joyce were there. I'm happy that they were, it was a great experience, but it's not why I went there.

Then getting that picture with Juan Diego last week ... I had no plans of going to the stage door until Denise kept urging me. Then I realized that I had no plans to do, well, anything... I was in no rush to get back on a train... so I figured, sure, why not go? And it sure was an interesting experience, to see the crowd that gathered, and it was great fun to get the picture.

Ever since I was a teenager I felt that if I ever heard a musician whose music had touched me in some way, that I would like to meet them to thank them. I did just that. I think it makes them feel like their hard work is worth it when someone does that.

So again, I don't plan on going far out of my way to meet the performers that I like, but if it's easy to do, like at the Met or with NJ Opera, or if it falls into my lap, like in Chicago, I'm not going to say no. And then, of course, I'll take pictures, write all about it and compare the experiences, because how fun is that???