Happy

Yes, I'm happy!  *does Happy Dance* Sure, there were bits I didn't sing as well I would have liked in a perfect world, but I'm not going to beat myself up over them. (Maybe I'll do that when I hear the recording). But hey, I've ticked something off my bucket list, so that's a bonus, right? 

It was a big day in more ways than one. Because we had musicians coming from Dunedin, the rehearsal was held the same day. Certainly not ideal, but when you're on a strict budget these things sometimes have to be done. The rehearsal went pretty well, and I tried not to sing to full out to help preserve my voice for the performance. 

'Belinda' sang her first aria then we were into the first chorus, the short 'Banish Sorrow'. By two-thirds of the way through my heart was beating so hard and fast I thought it was going to leap out of my chest. I stepped out and tried to look as if I were 'press'd with torment'. It is entirely possible that my expression could have been interpreted as 'deer caught in the headlights'. The first 'Ah' was a bit short due to me not having prepared for it properly but I had myself sorted by the second one and the aria went well - I even got through the longest 'I languish' phrase with breath support intact. 


I enjoyed the latter part of the performance best, as I was able to interact more with other characters, in particular Aeneas in the scene where Dido compares him to 'a deceitful crocodile'! And finally the Lament. About half way through I thought 'Let go! Don't think, just be Dido!'  and so I just let myself get swept up in the emotion and it felt amazing. Someone afterwards told me that I really conveyed Dido's despair, which made me feel pretty good! I stood there and let the choir's 'With Drooping Wings' wash over me and wished I could do it all over again. Although ideally I would want it to be a full opera performance. 


Now my performance calendar has a bit of blank space, so I can sit down and work on some things that I haven't had time to - Tornami a vagegghiar from Handel's Alcina for one. Here's La Stupenda in a 1960 rendition....

Happy

Yes, I'm happy!  *does Happy Dance* Sure, there were bits I didn't sing as well I would have liked in a perfect world, but I'm not going to beat myself up over them. (Maybe I'll do that when I hear the recording). But hey, I've ticked something off my bucket list, so that's a bonus, right? 

It was a big day in more ways than one. Because we had musicians coming from Dunedin, the rehearsal was held the same day. Certainly not ideal, but when you're on a strict budget these things sometimes have to be done. The rehearsal went pretty well, and I tried not to sing to full out to help preserve my voice for the performance. 

'Belinda' sang her first aria then we were into the first chorus, the short 'Banish Sorrow'. By two-thirds of the way through my heart was beating so hard and fast I thought it was going to leap out of my chest. I stepped out and tried to look as if I were 'press'd with torment'. It is entirely possible that my expression could have been interpreted as 'deer caught in the headlights'. The first 'Ah' was a bit short due to me not having prepared for it properly but I had myself sorted by the second one and the aria went well - I even got through the longest 'I languish' phrase with breath support intact. 


I enjoyed the latter part of the performance best, as I was able to interact more with other characters, in particular Aeneas in the scene where Dido compares him to 'a deceitful crocodile'! And finally the Lament. About half way through I thought 'Let go! Don't think, just be Dido!'  and so I just let myself get swept up in the emotion and it felt amazing. Someone afterwards told me that I really conveyed Dido's despair, which made me feel pretty good! I stood there and let the choir's 'With Drooping Wings' wash over me and wished I could do it all over again. Although ideally I would want it to be a full opera performance. 


Now my performance calendar has a bit of blank space, so I can sit down and work on some things that I haven't had time to - Tornami a vagegghiar from Handel's Alcina for one. Here's La Stupenda in a 1960 rendition....

Photos

As promised, a random assortment of photos for your viewing pleasure....

The temporary cast from last week

The climax of my big aria in Dido and Aeneas

The boys 'laxing out and channel-surfing

Nan & Tyler

Cousin Rebecca - cool bikie chick

Cousin Stephen

Life with a cast

Tyler returned to Kew Hospital last Friday to attend Fracture Clinic. This usually entails an enormous amount of waiting around in between checking in, getting x-rayed, seeing a specialist and then any cast work to be done, but we were done and dusted in about 2 hours 20 minutes. X-rays show the bones is healing, but the doctor decided that the cast needed to be extended above the elbow to stop any rotation of the elbow making the bones move at the wrist. 

Because the existing cast was working well, they elected to do the fibreglass casting over the top of it and onwards past the elbow. Tyler chose a nice bright yellow. He thinks this will be a good colour for people to write on :)  He has an another check this Friday and assuming all ok, he will be in the cast for another 5 weeks. Thank goodness this didn't happen during swimming and Flippa Ball season. 

On Saturday I had my long-awaited performance as Dido in a concert performance of Purcell's opera Dido & Aeneas. Got my photo in the paper on the Saturday morning. 

After an amazingly good summer and unseasonably-mild Autumn, winter knocked loudly on the door today with wind, rain, hail and thunderstorms. 

I have a few random photos in the camera which I will download soon.

I can't back out now, my name's on the programme

It's Wednesday and Dido & Aeneas is this Saturday at 4pm. Of course I don't really want to back out but I have, over the last week, been subject to bouts of  'who the hell do I think I am to be singing Dido?' I always wonder at what point someone like Jessye Norman or Pavarotti or any other world-famous singer goes on stage and thinks 'I have every right to be singing this'. Is there a light-bulb moment when they realise that their technique, quality of voice and ability to convey whatever emotion is needed is all there, and they are completely confident in their own ability? When they think 'Yeah, my voice IS so awesome that people will gladly pay a large portion of their weekly income to hear me?'

Obviously I'm a journeyman (journeywoman?) singer in a small city near the bottom of the world so the expectations on me are just a tad lower, but I still angst over the fact that people are using some of their precious time and money to listen to me. They have a right to expect something at the very least competent. And I realise that I'm being overly dramatic (no, really? Me?) because I'm not the only person they're coming to hear. It's just that there's this little song at the end of the opera that Dido sings. The one everyone knows. And because they know it, they know when you don't get the timing quite right, or a note exactly where it should be.

And so this morning, as I practised Dido's Lament in the shower - don't you love shower acoustics? - I thought, to hell with it, I know the notes, I can sing them competently, I'm just going to let go and invest it with all the emotion that I feel when I sing those sorrow-laden words. Maybe I'll come in half a beat late on a  'Remember me'. Maybe I'll forget a bit of ornamentation. But by golly the audience is going to feel my despair! 

Because that's what it's really all about isn't it? Not just pretty notes - it's about making people feel something.

I'll be back after the performance to let you know if I succeeded.

I can't back out now, my name's on the programme

It's Wednesday and Dido & Aeneas is this Saturday at 4pm. Of course I don't really want to back out but I have, over the last week, been subject to bouts of  'who the hell do I think I am to be singing Dido?' I always wonder at what point someone like Jessye Norman or Pavarotti or any other world-famous singer goes on stage and thinks 'I have every right to be singing this'. Is there a light-bulb moment when they realise that their technique, quality of voice and ability to convey whatever emotion is needed is all there, and they are completely confident in their own ability? When they think 'Yeah, my voice IS so awesome that people will gladly pay a large portion of their weekly income to hear me?'

Obviously I'm a journeyman (journeywoman?) singer in a small city near the bottom of the world so the expectations on me are just a tad lower, but I still angst over the fact that people are using some of their precious time and money to listen to me. They have a right to expect something at the very least competent. And I realise that I'm being overly dramatic (no, really? Me?) because I'm not the only person they're coming to hear. It's just that there's this little song at the end of the opera that Dido sings. The one everyone knows. And because they know it, they know when you don't get the timing quite right, or a note exactly where it should be.

And so this morning, as I practised Dido's Lament in the shower - don't you love shower acoustics? - I thought, to hell with it, I know the notes, I can sing them competently, I'm just going to let go and invest it with all the emotion that I feel when I sing those sorrow-laden words. Maybe I'll come in half a beat late on a  'Remember me'. Maybe I'll forget a bit of ornamentation. But by golly the audience is going to feel my despair! 

Because that's what it's really all about isn't it? Not just pretty notes - it's about making people feel something.

I'll be back after the performance to let you know if I succeeded.

The blog post that came back to bite me on the posterior

So you remember the post where I talked about lettings kids do what kids do and not being a helicopter parent? How I said that there likely to be more broken bones in Tyler's future? Um, yeah, should have got a firm grip on a large piece of wood as I wrote that. It went like this....

Tuesday afternoon, about 4:15pm the phone rings and a lady from the OSCAR Holiday Programme was attending said "We think Tyler has broken his wrist". I shot down to the school where they run the programme and one look at the wee dude's face was enough to tell me that he not feeling too good at all. They had rigged up a sling for him, and gently pulled back the edge to show me the kink in his wrist. 

Off we sped to A&E, where they quickly weighed him and gave him a dose of paracetamol. This didn't even touch the sides of the pain so they squirted a morphine-type substance up his nose with the advice that he would probably be a bit woozy. Five minutes later he was talking non-stop, telling me a very involved story about something he saw on tv. All the time he was waving his non-damaged arm in the air because he said the place on his arm where they rubbed numbing gel felt strange. He had two lots of x-rays, which showed the complete break in the ulna, with the bone on an angle, hence the kink in his wrist. Skip this picture if you're a bit squeamish....

Eventually the doctors sedated him and straightened the bone. He was out to it for about 20 minutes and then woke up rather startled. By this time Chris had arrived. The doctors were concerned about swelling inside the temporary cast, so they cut it all the way down on one side so that we could gently widen it if needed to release the pressure. Eventually they released him with a sling and a prescription for pain medication. As we stopped to get some paperwork from the nurse, a baby started squawking in the cubicle next to us. Tyler exclaimed "Someone's just had a baby in there!" which had the nurse giggling. 

After a quick stop at McD's for some food as we were all starving we drove home and tucked Tyler into our bed (thank goodness for Super-King-size bed). It was a bit of a restless night for all of us. Fortunately Chris was home today on his in-between day and I am off tomorrow and Friday so we can give him plenty of love and attention.

Next week he'll get a proper cast - he reckons this one is going to be pale yellow. And so he is maintaining his '1 broken bone for every 2 years of life' average.