Battle Weary

I am sorry to report that Chely Wright has not, in fact, fallen in love with me.

It's okay; she's a vegetarian -- it never would have worked.

In unrelated news, I have spent the last month immersed in music, doing a little three-week summer program called Spotlight on Opera (http://www.spotlightonopera.com), run by the esteemable Cindy Sadler, whose brilliance knows no bounds. Spotlight is a little like bootcamp for opera singers -- three weeks of non-stop rehearsals, masterclasses, and performances that have us running around like decapitated chickens whilst trying to sing Mozart and Poulenc and what have you. We gave a total of 8 performances, all of which seemed to be well-received.

It was fun, but I am beyond exhausted.

I am also in that reflective, post-production phase where I navel gaze a lot and whine about how much better I wish I was. Just FYI. Forewarned is forearmed and all of that.

I wish I was much better than I am. There you have it.

When my school fired my voice teacher last year and I was placed with my current teacher, I was in the middle of a fach change, going from soprano to mezzo. It's a precarious stage for anybody, and the change of teacher as well as an impending recital really threw me for a loop and, I think, hindered my vocal progress.

But I was in love, and so nothing else even registered in my Jena-adled brain.

I'm not sure what I should have (or could have) done differently, but I do feel like I have spent the last year and a half trying to be my own teacher and failing miserably. I have made progress, yes, but not as much as I needed to, which is rather disheartening and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't spend the whole afternoon crying about it. The teacher at school with whom I was placed is competent but, for some reason or another, could not (or would not) help me technically.

(I spoke with summer-program-director Cindy today who said that I have a LOT of tongue and jaw tension, something that was never even mentioned in lessons with my private teacher.)

So my next mission, apparently, is to find a teacher who will teach me good, solid, reliable technique. I will not be auditioning for graduate school this year -- Cindy doesn't think I am ready, and I trust her. I will be working full time (somewhere), and studying with a teacher (someone) who will be able to give me the tools I need to be successful.

The details are still fuzzy, but the determination is there. I am a fighter and though I may be weary, I'm not done yet.