They're taking the pianos away!

So here it is: the end of the program here in Graz. It seems that these six weeks went by too quickly, but at the same time my hectic arrival on the first night seems like years ago. The good news is that I'm leaving changed and that I am also leaving with many changes to be made. I have a notebook full of comments and notes that I can understand more fully as time passes.

Monday night's performance went well, but Tuesday night was much better. For some reason my focus was not as continuous on Monday with Sophie's aria from Werther as the two spanish songs which I presented on Tuesday. Tuesday's performance was like a dream. I was thinking the text ahead of the line, I took the audience on the journey with me (as opposed to showing it to them) and I felt comfortable in my voice. I had a number of lovely compliments for both performances: one of the coaches that had heard me earlier in the program said that it sounded like a completely different voice, and another commented that my performances were the most polished of the evenings.

It was nice to feel this positive feedback near the close of the program- affirmations that I'm heading in the right direction. But even nicer was my last coaching, which pointed out a number of things that still need work. I am excited to walk away with specific things to address.

As I had hoped, my next door neighbor, Elizabeth, won the Meistersinger Competition! She sang a beautiful "Jewel Song" from Faust and was incredibly polished and lovely.

This weekend I have quite a few hours of masterclasses to enjoy and then I have a performance at the St. Leonhard Church (Ave Maria by Schubert & Queen of Heaven by Thomas Dunhill). Then I leave Graz behind.

I will probably post a follow up with my feeling on my vocal improvement once I have had the chance to digest the many things I have learned here.

In the mean time, thank you all for reading along and allowing me to share this time with you! Thank you to Sara Miller for your comments! And thank you to the internet for allowing me to keep in conctact!

Ann Marie

This is the first picture I took upon arriving at my dorm. I experienced many trials, tribulations, joyful outbursts, fellow singers' warm ups and breakfasts at this desk:

Mixnitz!

I started today singing "Ave Verum Corpus" for Mass in the St. Leonhard Kirche just down from the street from the Studentheim. I recieved the music for this performance only a few days before the performance, but Edward Elgar proved to be a kind composer in the sight reading category. This slow, sustained piece proved to be perfect for the setting as I could kind of bask in the resonance of the hall and allow each long note to swell.

When I finished the organist at the Church gave a Mozart chocolate to me and Janet Todd, an Australian soprano who sang a beautiful "Quia Respexit" also during Mass. Janet and I returned to the Studentheim and as she went of for a day trip of wine tasting, I quickly changed and headed out to Mixnitz with Natalie and Emma. In Mixnitz there's a famous hike called "Barenshutzklamm" (excuse the lack of umlauts) which is a popular day trip for many Austrians. The term day trip here is not used lightly. After using various modes of public transportation, and then walking for about 20 minutes, we found the entrance to the path to the hike. The sign at this entrance predicted a 3 hour hike just to the entrance of "Barenschutzklamm"- and they weren't kidding.

Interestingly enough, amoungst a large group of opera singers I am considered to be in very good shape. Now, I'm not used to being the fastest in the group, and I blame this entirely on my family who could leave me in the dust on any hike. But today, after two hours on a relatively steep mountain with no particular viewpoint in sight, Emma and Natalie sat down for a rest and I kept walking...and kept walking... and kept walking. When I finally arrived at the entrance to this (I'm not sure what to call it) park I gave myself 30 minutes to explore before returning to Natalie and Emma.

Past the entrance sign, the hike continues, but suddenly turns into steep, rickity, narrow ladders over a river and its waterfall. I have no way to describe the beauty and utter anxiety which this experience offered, but after those 30 minutes I ran back to the girls to show off my pictures and to excitedly return to the bottom of the mountain for some much needed food. After catching our train back (which came two hours later than expected) we enjoyed the 1 Euro menu at McDonalds. This is a very particular experience we had been told not to miss out on. McDonalds is no joke here- good quality, healthy, and clean with a really fancy dessert case.

One week.

The calm before the storm...

Here I am, entering my last week here in Graz. I feel like there is so much that I decided to "write later", or that I assumed would come up in another post. There is no way that I could possibly convey how much I have learned so far.

But the calm before the storm truly is a perfect explanation for this moment because, well, I just saw the biggest, brightest, LONGEST lightning flash. The weather here is not only unpredicable; it's extreme. It can be a completely unthreatening, moderate day in one minute and in the next hard rain drops are pounding on your window. When it rains it pours. And that is exactly what it is supposed to for the next 48 hours. Pour.

SO... My day-trip to Salzburg is no longer an option for tomorrow. The back up plan was to hike in Mixnitz, a waterfall park.... also not the most ideal activity for a rainstorm. But Natalie and I have found the answer: borrow an opera score from the library and sing it cover to cover. Yep. She's Dorabella and I'm Despina. She's Dido and I'm Belinda. A glimpse of our mindset here. Another glimpse? Today in German we were working with conditional sentences, or the subjunctive. We were to ask our partners conditional questions and report back their answers. Every single one of the sets of partners came up with the following sentence: Wir wunschten wir konnten perfect singen. (We wish we could sing flawlessly.) We were asked to redo the exercise.

So the literal storm has begun, the figurative storm begins on Sunday morning. I will be performing three sacred pieces on Sunday (one of which I recieved in my box today...). Then I'll be performing "Du Gai Soleil" from Massanet's Werther on Monday evening and "El Alba" and
"La Manana" by Alberto Ginastera on Tuesday evening. This in addition to "In Uomini, In Soldati" from Cosi Fan Tutti for my voice studios.

As I head off to practice I have one comment keeping my spirits high. I sang the Ginastera pieces for the "Leitung" of the Spanish songs concert today (picture a large, mustached man named Alfonso who speaks mostly spanish in an octave which makes the room vibrate). I finished my pieces and he asks "Do you speak spanish?" I answer "mas o menos" and he said he could understand every word.

Staying Vulnerable

Those are words that few people truly want to face. Breaking down the wall between inner thoughts and outer reflections is never the most comfortable place. But in an attempt to communicate a character or a poem or a thought within music "staying vulnerable" is required. In doing so, singers also have to find a way to put emotions on display and then have them critiqued; by teachers, and coaches, and fellow singers, and nonmusicians. (And unfortunately, for those who chose to display in such a public manner, my the youtube population.)

Don't worry- I'm not about to launch into a breakdown. Quite the opposite!

Today, after two german courses, a french diction coaching, a practice session, lunch (for which we trecked through the pouring rain), a rehearsal for a spanish songs concert I'll be singing in, and a coaching... I had a breakthrough.

In the last five minutes of Stage Artistry I sang the recitative section of "Deh Vieni Non Tardar" and was asked about my posture. Now, in singing this usually leads to a long discussion about Alexander Technique or an explanation of alignment, but today, I was asked to stop fixing my posture; to just sing. And I got goosebumps. But then they'll see into my soul! Into my deep, dark soul! (laugh here.)

All of a sudden the gestures and movements which I had been using to communicate my inner thoughts were no longer necessary. Now I could feel my classmates go on Susannah's journey with me as opposed to telling them about Susannah's journey.

Cool, cool. So this happens in a matter of minutes and I have to run up to my Voice Studio class. And what did I hear? "It seems like your subtext- which is beautiful throughout the introduction- stops the moment before you're about to sing. DON"T DO THAT." But then they'll see into my thoughts! my mean, critical thoughts! (Wrong.)

Now my thoughts could only be those of Susannah's and the only words which could convey those thoughts were in the text.

So simple, and yet so incredibly difficult. The trouble with this work is that when I allowed the wall to drop, my diction went out the door. As my father would say; everything in moderation.

In other news, I went to see the castle ruins in Gosting with Natalie on Sunday. We climbed to the top of a mountain (while listen to a man in the valley sing "Country Road Lead Me Home" with his accordain for a town festival) and then to the top of the castly tower for a beautiful view of Graz (at top).

The trail to the castle.

Museum Day!

So after Friday- a long day of studying up on arias, grad schools, GRE sample questions, diction practice, and breath exercises, it was time for a break. I've been saving the chance to see museums because they all cost at least 5 Euros and it's more economical to get a pass and see a bunch in one day.

After seeing the "Midday Serenade" in a cafe downtown (Emma sang throughout the program and was absolutely charming) Natalie and I went next door to the Armory. Now people have talked about this place and I had created a few images in my head about what might be inside, but nothing can really prepare you for thousands of swords hanging above your head. All of the armory displayed had been made in Graz in the late 1500's and early 1600's and needless to say their weapons took all manners of murder into consideration.

Naturally, armory leads to modern art. Well, not naturally, but strangely smoothly. The Kunsthaus/friendly alien/blue bladder which I have passed frequently in order to access the best ice cream in town, proved to be as... well... interesting on the interior as the exterior. The entance to the first exhibit is on a ramped escelator, in a tunnel, without any lights, moving towards a speaker from which an eerie singer's song is played. The museum was certainly a cultural experience. An experience of some kind of culture, that is.

For our final museum of the day, we returned to the Schloss Egenberg- the castle that we sang in a few weeks back. The castle houses a large collection of paintings and coins and has an exhibit of carved gold and glass from the 17th century. My favorite was a "cup" which consisted of an intricately carved duck which supported a huge, pearly shell, on which the artist had drawn a beautiful scene with ink.

We returned to the Studentheim exhausted, but after almost an hour of rest it sank in that I had indeed not sung all day. So... I went to practice.

Breath, space, vibrato

As the days here are more and more driven by voice practice I find less energy for travel-like expeditions. So the excitement recently is less in the beautiful landscape and more in matching the ring of one note to another or in waking up to find the air to be a little less dry than yesterday. My voice and body have had fun moments adjusting between 100 degree and 60 degree weather with absolutely no warning.

As decided in my last post, this has been a whole lot of Mozart for me. I reworked some old classics (Vedrai Carino & L'ho Perduta) and then learned and coached "Deh Vieni Non Tardar" (Le Nozze di Figaro) and "In Uomini" (Cosi Fan Tutti). Working on Susannah has been interesting because EVERYONE has an opinion on her and her aria. All of the sopranos have sung "Deh Vieni" and have a wealth of their own teachers' advice to offer. It seems that the lesson this aria has offered is that everyone else's thoughts need to measure up to a grain of salt in comparison to my own.

My coach wanted no cadenzas and a melodramatic recitative; my voice teacher wanted a nice B-flat with a quick ornamented scale to be added; and my stage artistry instructor wanted a very poised, stately presentation. My other stage artistry teacher thinks that Susannah is basically giggling about the comedy of her situation, while another soprano thinks that it should be overstatedly sexy. And so on (and so on (and so on (and so on))).

So- I've learned a lot from "Deh Vieni" and will continue to sing it, especially when someone pays me to. But until then, I'm turning to "S'altro Lagrime" from Clemenzo de Tito. Never heard of it? Exactly.

In other news: I sat in on a masterclass yesterday by the incomparable Barbara Bonney. Ahhh. Look her up if you haven't heard her before. She's the voice that gives me hope when I'm feeling small compared to all the big dramatic singers. This woman uses all of her resonance space and acoustical energy to fill the hall, and it's glorious! What's amazing about the many masterclasses I've attended so far (I believe that this was clinician number 6, though many clinicians offer over 12 hours of working time) the sentiment is the same. Breath, find back space, and vibrate on every note. Then, if the singer has that figured out; make sure your interpretation starts with the breath and that you diction is precise and accurate. Oh- and smile. It's a quick fix to lift your zygomatic muscles.

Meanwhile German classes are slowly becoming tedious with nominative/accusitive/dative cases. In class I slowly tread along with whether it's der or den or dem, but out on the streets I just say
"de-" and they tend to catch my drift.

I had a defining moment one day this week. I had been walking downtown and had stopped to use a restroom. The guard that gave me directions had given me a stern look for not pronouncing the letter "c" of "W.C." has sharply as a native Austrian would have. So I left feeling like an "auslander" (foreigner) when this woman beckons me over and starts talking to me in German. She asks me to take a picture for her and her friends, shows me how to use her camara and joins the pose. I count "eins, zwei, drei", take a good look and proclaim it good ( in German!) She thanks me and walks away. I consider this a sign that I am at home and that I don't look entirely out of place here. Seeing as I spoke only german, understood her, did what she asked and was relatively aloof (like all people here), I am telling myself that the woman had no idea that I was American.

This is disctinctly different from the woman who started cracking up at my translating Mass parts from German to English for a friend at the bus stop so she could understand what was going on. Imagine someone going "was ist SSSpeeerrit?"

I'll choose to remember the camara moment.

Long weeks call for long walks

Das Wochenende! Es ist Freitag! Das Wochen war sehr lang... so ich schriebe nur die Höhepunkts:

This weeks lessons were beautifully humbling. I started the week working on Oscar's aria from "Un Ballo Maschera" called "Saper Vorreste." It's a cute, short aria usually sung by coloratura sopranos early in their careers, but it's not so high that a soubrette can't do it. But through this aria, my coach recognized my difficulty with legato and my voice teacher came to the conclusion that I don't have a system of breathing. SO:

I sang hanging from my teacher's arms, I sang on my back, I sang through my nose, I sang running around the room while my acting teacher showed me cards with different emotions (I'm still not sure how you can throw a temper tantrum while feeling seductively worried.... but apparently it worked). I finished the week deciding to stick to Mozart classics (L'ho Perduta, Vedrai Carino, Deh Vieni non Tardar) until I have some of these issues figured out. Not to mention I have a number of songs to learn for my senior recital...

German classes are going well- though incredibly quickly. I have a new sheet of vocabulary everyday in German I and seem to complete another tense every day in German 2. (We finished simple past in two days.)

A couple of us went to an Organ concert on Sunday in the Cathedral. This is an incredibly cultural experience not only because this beautiful organ gets played every day, but because a large crowd of people show up to hear absurd organ works every week.

I had an epic (or comical) encounter with some sort of winged beatle in my room. After many attempts to "show" it to the window, I turned off my light, left the windows and the doors open and read out in the hall until it had left. Of course it hadn't, but at least it wasn't on my bed anymore.

The majority of my thoughts, when not practicing, have to do with the differences between performing and directing. As many of you know, I often head out to perform and find myself in the director's position. In order to describe the angst which the differences between these two career paths provide, I have come up with a few (hopefully comical) analogies for other occupations which seem similar but are not. So- the differences between directing and performing can be likened to the differences between:

-Archetecture and contracting

- collecting keys and making keys

- photography and framing

- reading a book and writing a book

- drinking milk and milking cows

This list could continue for a while, but the point is that setting aside my inquiries about career paths has been quite difficult. Especially when faced with the many, many, MANY talented singers here. (The many talented singers also do a good job of lighting the fire under a certain area to get to the practice room.)

So today, in order to regroup myself, I took a three hour walk. I headed towards the mountains, got there, and came back. I am currently scrutinizing the presence of a sun burn and drinking milk out of the carton because I don't have a cup. Ahhh. Time to shower and then- yep, you guessed it: practice.