Opera is all about details. We practice and polish and hone and obsess, sometimes to the point where we forget what all those details are in service of: performing. All of it is so that when we get up on that stage we have the tools to really, truly, make the art as we want it to be. We so desperately want to share and communicate with the people watching on a primal level, and working towards perfection allows us to communicate more easily and deeply.
Last Saturday I was able to do that thing where you make a roomful of people forget to breathe and wait to clap. Where they're still with you as the last chord fades and they need to sit with you for an extra few seconds while you hold the final energy of your aria. Honestly, that's the moment I live for in opera. It was exactly what I was aiming for with that particular piece, so even though I didn't advance in the competition I was singing for, I'm proud of myself. I didn't sing perfectly, but I took the audience somewhere else. I performed. That's what it's about. That's why I do this. To make people feel, to make them empathize. Not sympathize; empathize. To help them immerse so deeply their neurons line up with mine and they feel with me. I forget what I'm about sometimes when I get caught up in the day-to-day of making specialized throat noises, but that was not one of those days. I lost, but I won.
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My generation is doing this odd thing where we call out our own #adulting, and I honestly think this celebration and glorification of adulthood is good. Gamifying achievements like cooking something elaborate, opening a savings account or retirement fund, or just actually doing that laundry you've been putting off gives you a burst of dopamine, making you more likely to adult in the future (yes, "adult" has colloquially been verbed -- deal with it). Sharing accomplishments boosts self-esteem. Honestly, I feel great every time I pay bills. Still. I've been responsible for paying at least one utility since I was 17, so you think that would have worn off by now, but strangely enough the novelty remains. I batch-cooked a beef and vegetable soup for the week and brought in a tupperware-full for my coworker. When she wolfed it down today, starting when it was still too hot but persevering because it was yummy, making happy noises and faces and exclaiming "this is so good!" more than once, I felt an indecent amount of pride. I didn't want to let it show, but having another person -- especially an older colleague whose opinion I respect -- really enjoy my cooking straight-up made my week. I've also been riding the high from organizing my bookshelf and tacking up fairy lights in my room for like four days now. And I know I'm not the only one to experience these small moments of pride and joy in everyday events.
This feeling goes hand in hand with the impostor syndrome common among my generation where we can't quite believe we're adults. For many of the financially middling and more affluent among us, our parents have been helping us pay for basic expenses into our late 20s, which definitely contributes to that phenomenon (let's be real here, I'm still on my mom's cell phone plan and I lived with her for 2 years post-college). But is it so bad that we're holding onto our sense of fun? Is it so bad that we're turning being an adult into something to be excited about? As long as we're actually being responsible human adults, where's the harm? I am presenting a recital as a farewell to San Francisco before I move to New York City on September 17th. The all-operatic repertoire features arias by W.A. Mozart, G.F. Handel, Gioachino Rossini, Vincenzo Bellini, Charles Gounod, Ralph Vaughan Williams, Pietro Mascagni, and San Francisco-based composer Kirke Mechem, as well as duets by Mozart. I will be joined by baritone Matthew Tierney, and accompanied by Kerrilyn Renshaw.
This is my first time drinking kombucha. I got curious, so I have bought a bottle of one of the standard brands you see everywhere these days. For those of you not living in yuppie/hipster-land (a.k.a. the west coast), kombucha is fermented tea. Here in the land of coffee and quinoa it is hailed as a miracle drink that will fix all that ails you. It also has a slight amount of alcohol in it (less than 0.5%).
Maayan Did A Dumb I shook it. And then it fizzed and exploded a little when I started opening it. Oops. That's what I get for not reading the bottle. They even helpfully underlined the NOT in DO NOT SHAKE. Word to the wise and unsticky: don't shake your kombucha. Zeroth impression: The smell Well that's interesting. The smell is like leftover beer the morning after a party. First impression Totally inoffensive. It has very little taste in any direction. This one supposedly has blueberry and ginger in it; I can taste that a little, but it pretty much tastes like a hard cider, with a hint of sweetness and a bit of fumes up the nose. Enjoyable. Middle Impression Er, I'm feeling a little lightheaded. Apparently trace amounts of alcohol are enough to affect me a little. #LightweightCheapDateOperaSinger Last Impression Now I'm a little sleepy. I'm pretty sure that's mostly due to it being mid-afternoon, though; my energy always drops around now. As for the kombucha: it was fine. Neither life-changing or terrible. Just whatever in all ways. Das Ende. This post has taken me too long to do. My hope was to chronicle my first experience at a summer music program. I wanted to create shorter, more frequent posts. Instead, I am bashing out this word vomit one week into the program. The reason: I am extremely busy here. My days have been filled with rehearsals, masterclasses, coachings, lessons, practicing, yoga, and making friends. I am so happy. I am working on my favorite thing in the world (opera, in case you have never encountered me at all in any way, shape, or form) literally all day. Even when I am just hanging out with my colleagues or the faculty I learn and discuss things. It's so wonderful.
I am so excited to be here. I am singing Nancy in Albert Herring (Benjamin Britten), which sits wonderfully in my voice. The music is extremely challenging, but makes total sense once you get it in your system and head. Everyone in my show is so on top of knowing their music. We were told to have it memorized by the first day of the program, but often there is that one jerk who just doesn't know their music. Not so in this production. Everyone came in on the first day completely solid. It was incredible. We've had to work on coordinating a lot of the scenes that involve the entire cast, but that is to be expected. The vocal lines are short interjections that dovetail or overlap each other, which take a lot of practice to get right. Everyone is also very quick when it comes to learning staging, which is just lovely. Really the amount of talent here is just astounding. I feel so lucky to be among such amazing singers. Also everyone is so ridiculously nice. And not fake nice, but truly, genuinely kind. They don't pretend to like you; they actually do. Or don't, but so far that hasn't happened. Everyone is getting along really well (knock on so much wood pleeease let there be no drama...actually, I would honestly be surprised if there was; this isn't a dramatic group at all). The faculty here are so supportive, knowledgeable, and approachable. I'm getting distracted by a conversation my friends are having next to me, so bye for now. I'll write tomorrow. I will probably be drunk, since a huge group of us are going wine tasting! This post is thanks to autocorrect.
I was texting with my sister, and she told me she was "sending the hugest ducking hug." Well, thank you autocorrect for making that PG, but that wasn't what she meant. However, I decided to make this a thing. Behold, Ducking Hug (2014): I got a glittery teal eyeliner pencil this weekend. I wore a pretty heavy helping of it on Monday, which happened to be my boyfriend's birthday. While taking off my makeup at night, I realized he hadn't said anything about it. He really likes teal, so I thought he might actually notice. I wandered out of the bathroom and asked him if he realized that my eyeliner was a different color than usual. After an entire evening spending time together, he hadn't. So I turned to his roommate, with whom we had hung out for a while, and asked him if he noticed. His response: "Eyeliner comes in colors???"
Their responses, aside from making me giggle, reminded me why I wear makeup. Not that I ever really forget. My makeup is for me. It is my process of discovering who I feel like being today. It is my warpaint. It is my chance to create a small, temporary work of art. It is my affirmation: I am worth the effort. It is my personal reminder; if I am feeling ugly inside I can look in the mirror and remind myself of my inner beauty. Also, makeup is fun. Let's get this out of the way: I did not get into either Curtis or the Academy of Vocal Arts. I did not even make it to the final round of live auditions for either school.
Ouch. That felt like an emotional band-aid. It hurts my pride to put that on the internet. It makes me ashamed. It makes me feel like I've let down all the people who have invested energy, expertise, and love in me, starting with my mother and continuing through my teachers and friends. I feel like I have misrepresented them. For me, that is the worst part of any letdown. Anything less than brilliant success feels like it reflects badly on those who have encouraged me to shine. That said, I actually did close to my best in both auditions. My Curtis audition was fine. I got a massive adrenaline rush as I walked into the audition. I was literally shaking the whole time, which was incredibly annoying because it mostly affected my hands. So I probably looked terrified, whereas I only felt a little bit nervous. The panel was Mikael Eliasen (head of the opera program) and four students. I began with "Faites-lui mes aveux" from Faust, which went well enough. I sang and acted well. I moved around more than I would have liked, but it was all grounded in intentions and emotions. Then I had a little water. They had a little table with a pitcher of water and little cups on the stage, which was nice of them because the air was very dry. Maybe that was the wrong choice. Maybe they were judging whether you could make it through without water. Hmm, I didn't think of that at the time. Well, definitely too late to choose differently. Then they asked for "Svegliatevi nel core" from Giulio Cesare. I did a pretty good job with that one as well. They didn't talk to me or ask for anything further, so I thanked everyone and walked out, sharing a small smile with Mr. Eliasen on the way. Overall, the audition was good. Not my best ever, but definitely a solid try. I am proud of my AVA audition. And I am NEVER proud of an audition. My usual gauge for auditions is, "did I crash and burn and/or sound terrible? No? SUCCESS." This audition demolished that system. I really, truly did my best. I felt calm and energized, my voice was responsive and free, I was grounded and relaxed in my body, my breath was flowing nicely, I acted, and, most importantly, I performed. I was even able to incorporate some of what I learned in an exciting and wonderful lesson that I had the day before with the incredible William Stone. I only sang "Faites-lui," but I did my absolute best with it. The pianist started faster than I wanted to go, so I just slowed him down by singing in the tempo I wanted when I came in. No fuss, no muss; I wasn't even fazed. I'm really proud of that. When I confidently walked in for the audition, they asked me about my name, so I told them the ethnic origins of both parts. I was funny, but I didn't babble. I have a tendency to babble when I talk in auditions, so being succinct but interesting was a real triumph for me. After I sang, I thanked the pianist and the four faculty of the panel, then wished them an excellent day with a smile as I walked out. I represented myself to the best of my ability in that audition. In conclusion, although I did not get into either program, I did my best, learned a lot, and got more experience doing high-stress auditions. I would call this experience a successful failure. I can't wait to fail better in the future. I have an audition at Curtis! Wooooot! I am super excited to have a second audition. I'm also very enthused about the way Curtis's Opera program is invested in "learning by doing". They want to immerse their students in the theatrical environment as early, as deeply, and as often as possible. Oh yeah, I also like that part where their students automatically get full scholarships.
The final count: Audition: Curtis, Peabody No Audition: Yale, The Shepherd School Hoorah! ONWARD TO GLORY! ...well maybe not glory... ....ONWARD TO OPERA!!! For those who may be wondering, there is no Ugly. Only the Good and the Bad. Tchuess! I did not get an audition for Yale. This was devastating, since Yale was my number one choice. It has really shaken my confidence. I actually found out a couple weeks ago, but haven't wanted to talk about it. It still makes my heart ache. So yeah, no Yale for me. However, I do believe that things happen for a reason, that somehow we find our way to the things that are good for us at the time we need them. So even though I am heartbroken over my rejection, I feel that maybe something unexpected and wonderful will come my way as long as I keep working hard and moving forward.
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AuthorMaayan is a Manhattan-based opera singer. Archives
January 2019
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