Not such a great weekend...
Well, I just got back from Frankfurt, where I sang the Messiah with Emmanuelle Haim and the Hessischer Rundfunkorkester. They were very good, and we had a great time, up to a certain point. John Tessier was the tenor - a lovely Canadian, and Matthew White was the countertenor - another lovely Canadian with whom I sang Giulio Cesare (he sang a wonderful Nerone) years ago in Houston. The bass was the hilarious Christopher Purves. Emmanuelle was in fine form, and we put together a great Messiah, with much detail and attention. She spent much time discussing the texts and the structure with a priest, so she had a LOT of insight about the structure of the piece, the meaning of the words, etc... that had never made sense to me until now ("...the sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law..." from I Corinthians 15 : 55-56, for example!)
We enjoyed the pool and the steam room at the hotel, and I even had a massage. Then, that night, I developed a rip-roaring sinus infection! CRAP! I woke up at 3am with a dried-out throat and a swollen nose. The next day, Thanksgiving, we had our dress rehearsal in the morning and our first concert. I could feel my sinuses drip drip dripping down the back of my throat, so after the rehearsal I went to an Ear-Nose-and-Throat doctor who works with many of the singers at the opera in Frankfurt. She confirmed that it was a sinus infection - bacterial! But of course I'm allergic to almost all antibiotics, so we went with a topical antibacterial nose spray, and a bunch of other holistic stuff. Argh.
The concert went well. Everyone sang well. I finally relaxed a little in my last piece - "If God be for us." I shouldn't have... Mid-way through a coloratura line, I turned the page and looked down, horrified that what was there on the page (coloratura) didn't correspond to what I thought I should be singing. So I brought my coloratura to some semblance of cadence, and waited for my next entrance. And that didn't seem to make sense, either, so I didn't enter. So I wasn't trusting either my memory nor what was on the page at this point. Every singer's worst nightmare. Finally, I heard my favorite part of the aria - - "Who is he that condemneth?" (which textually and harmonically only comes once in the whole song) and turned back one page, and VOILÀ - there I was! I had not all of a sudden had a major lapse in my brain; I had turned TWO PAGES AT ONCE. Argh. If I'd just gone by my memory, I'd have been fine, but I was caught between the two and it confused my poor little infected head. So at least I finished the rest of the aria with much conviction and a big trill and went back to my seat. I probably missed a few bars of music, but it seemed like years of my life that I was standing there, not knowing where I was and nonchalantly looking like nothing was wrong. (I didn't do all that acting coaching for nuthin'!) At the end, we got rounds and rounds of applause, which was made more frustrating by the fact that I had drank about three bottles of water during the second half of the concert alone. All I could think was that I needed to go to the bathroom!! Ah, the glamourous life of an opera star. The crowd loved the concert, and despite my lack of page-turning skills, the audience probably didn't notice, anyhow. Emmanuelle had a wonderful first Messiah, which was what counted for me. I've been with Emmanuelle for so many firsts in our lives (even first recording!), it was wonderful to be with her conducting debut for this piece.
The concert went well. Everyone sang well. I finally relaxed a little in my last piece - "If God be for us." I shouldn't have... Mid-way through a coloratura line, I turned the page and looked down, horrified that what was there on the page (coloratura) didn't correspond to what I thought I should be singing. So I brought my coloratura to some semblance of cadence, and waited for my next entrance. And that didn't seem to make sense, either, so I didn't enter. So I wasn't trusting either my memory nor what was on the page at this point. Every singer's worst nightmare. Finally, I heard my favorite part of the aria - - "Who is he that condemneth?" (which textually and harmonically only comes once in the whole song) and turned back one page, and VOILÀ - there I was! I had not all of a sudden had a major lapse in my brain; I had turned TWO PAGES AT ONCE. Argh. If I'd just gone by my memory, I'd have been fine, but I was caught between the two and it confused my poor little infected head. So at least I finished the rest of the aria with much conviction and a big trill and went back to my seat. I probably missed a few bars of music, but it seemed like years of my life that I was standing there, not knowing where I was and nonchalantly looking like nothing was wrong. (I didn't do all that acting coaching for nuthin'!) At the end, we got rounds and rounds of applause, which was made more frustrating by the fact that I had drank about three bottles of water during the second half of the concert alone. All I could think was that I needed to go to the bathroom!! Ah, the glamourous life of an opera star. The crowd loved the concert, and despite my lack of page-turning skills, the audience probably didn't notice, anyhow. Emmanuelle had a wonderful first Messiah, which was what counted for me. I've been with Emmanuelle for so many firsts in our lives (even first recording!), it was wonderful to be with her conducting debut for this piece.
After a run to the bathroom and a resolute blowing of my nose, I decided to let the organizers off the hook and just go ahead and cancel the next night's concert. I had advised them that morning that I may not be able to sing the next day (depending on whether my sinuses got better or worse) and they had found a lovely replacement who could come the next day from England. However, she had a 6-month-old baby and needed to organize her world in order to be able to come. Not knowing if I'd be in shape to sing the next day until the next morning, I thought it'd be safer and more considerate to just go ahead and let them know the evening before, so everyone could organize things. It was Emmanuelle's first Messiah, so even though she knew it inside and out, I didn't want her to have to scramble the next day to find someone, etc... and rehearse, when I could just make a decision the night before and everyone knew what to expect. And good thing, as I woke up the next morning with an even stuffier head, and a groggy throat.
I only found out later from some British sopranos in the choir that nobody does those two lines (that kill me) in "Rejoice" in one breath. ! News to me! I've never actually gone to a Messiah I didn't sing in as an adult, so I don't remember. And I always thought I HAD to sing all the notes in the coloratura. I've been killing myself for years, and all my colleagues take the easy way out and BREATHE! I've just gone online and heard four or five people sing it (at a tediously slow speed) in one breath. Hmmm. Even Kathleen Battle fudges some of the coloratura to make the line. Grr. I need an extra lung. But, as my sage friend Patrick Summers always tells me "nobody but YOU is impressed you made it through that line in one breath if it sounds like you're killing yourself to do it..."
I have now calculated that I have NEVER EVER sung a Messiah without a cold or some kind of sickness. What is that? I'm always fine for the rehearsals, but the night before, fall sick. There must be something in the air. or in my brain. Am I the Anti-Messiah??? I really do like the music! Although I must admit, what was Handel smoking when he wrote "I know that my Redeemer liveth"??? Did he not know that sopranos must breathe to live? I don't know a piece that has more re-written lines by every singer known to man, to try and make sense of where to breathe in it. It'd make a lovely oboe solo, I think.
So I went home a day early. Luckily Lufthansa only made me pay 50Euros to change my ticket, and it was a lovely sunny day in Turin after rainy Frankfurt.
I futzed around the house, reorganizing all the crap in the bathroom, and decided to give my two turtles, who have been living in the whirlpool bathtub for over a year now, a break and let them enjoy the sun, too. So I carted them in a clear plastic bin from Ikea which I use for this very purpose, onto the balcony. It's a tall bin, I might add, as my turtles are bound and determined to wander no matter where you put them. They've both tried to escape numerous times, climbing on one another to no avail to get over the rim of the bin, which is about 5 inches beyond their reach even stretched high on the back of the other turtle.
I specify all this, because after all my cleaning frenzy in the bathroom, etc... I came outside to find only ONE turtle in the bin. Cursing the missing turtle, whom I have not-so-charitably named A#^-hole (as he's aggressive and annoying to the other turtle, Houdini), I scoured the entire balcony in search of the missing turtle. I hoped against hope that he had hidden himself under some plant, behind some piece of patio furniture, etc...
I look down at the concrete courtyard, three flights down, and don't see anything. I search again, on hands and knees in my nightie on the balcony. I search INSIDE the house, in case he's wandered INSIDE instead of outside. How can I lose a 1-pound turtle? He has the circumference of a cd - he is not small! He likes to curl up under the bed or couch, wherever it's the hardest to find him and he can collect the most dustballs. No dice.
So finally, I change out of my fuzzy slippers and bathrobe and go down to the courtyard. To my horror, I see the shell of Asshole behind a plant that the ground floor inhabitant has outside her door. I see one paw at a horrible angle and lots of blood. I don't see a head. So I decide to at least get rid of the body so I don't scare my poor neighbors, and start to imagine my neighbors as they discover a turtle head outside their front door.... As I pick up the shell, he moves! He's still alive! He had just retracted his head into his shell.
I take him upstairs and call the vet immediately. She asks me a few pertinent questions - is the shell totally cracked open? No, just cracked around two big seams. Is he still bleeding? No. Any other big wounds? No, just the shell and a knick on his chin. Can he move all his legs? Yes, he's actually trying to walk around still. So she tells me to wash him off with hydrogen peroxide and keep him warm. He makes it through the night, swathed in kitchen towels, in a lovely Ikea filing box (it's dark), on the shelf above the radiator. The next day, same thing. Monday, the vet was finally back in town and I was her first customer. We did x-rays to see if he had horrific internal injuries (no) or other broken bones (maybe a hairline fracture in his shoulder? Inconclusive... ) And she gave him a few shots and gave me prescriptions for injected antibiotics. You can't just open a turtle's mouth and then stroke his neck with pills... So I'm going to have to give the turtle a shot a day. Already, he didn't like me; this is not going to help. I put an antibiotic cream to help heal his shell, then put HONEY on the fractures, as well. I figure, for good measure, I'll put some of my 20 dollar Manuka honey on it. I'm one guilty turtle mommy, alright. Poor Tullio will have to do all this when I leave for Lille and then again when I'm in Los Angeles. Argh, I just realized he's joining me for the weekend in Lille. Who will do the shots? Poor little animal... I've got to find someone before I leave town tomorrow, darn it!
I look down at the concrete courtyard, three flights down, and don't see anything. I search again, on hands and knees in my nightie on the balcony. I search INSIDE the house, in case he's wandered INSIDE instead of outside. How can I lose a 1-pound turtle? He has the circumference of a cd - he is not small! He likes to curl up under the bed or couch, wherever it's the hardest to find him and he can collect the most dustballs. No dice.
So finally, I change out of my fuzzy slippers and bathrobe and go down to the courtyard. To my horror, I see the shell of Asshole behind a plant that the ground floor inhabitant has outside her door. I see one paw at a horrible angle and lots of blood. I don't see a head. So I decide to at least get rid of the body so I don't scare my poor neighbors, and start to imagine my neighbors as they discover a turtle head outside their front door.... As I pick up the shell, he moves! He's still alive! He had just retracted his head into his shell.
I take him upstairs and call the vet immediately. She asks me a few pertinent questions - is the shell totally cracked open? No, just cracked around two big seams. Is he still bleeding? No. Any other big wounds? No, just the shell and a knick on his chin. Can he move all his legs? Yes, he's actually trying to walk around still. So she tells me to wash him off with hydrogen peroxide and keep him warm. He makes it through the night, swathed in kitchen towels, in a lovely Ikea filing box (it's dark), on the shelf above the radiator. The next day, same thing. Monday, the vet was finally back in town and I was her first customer. We did x-rays to see if he had horrific internal injuries (no) or other broken bones (maybe a hairline fracture in his shoulder? Inconclusive... ) And she gave him a few shots and gave me prescriptions for injected antibiotics. You can't just open a turtle's mouth and then stroke his neck with pills... So I'm going to have to give the turtle a shot a day. Already, he didn't like me; this is not going to help. I put an antibiotic cream to help heal his shell, then put HONEY on the fractures, as well. I figure, for good measure, I'll put some of my 20 dollar Manuka honey on it. I'm one guilty turtle mommy, alright. Poor Tullio will have to do all this when I leave for Lille and then again when I'm in Los Angeles. Argh, I just realized he's joining me for the weekend in Lille. Who will do the shots? Poor little animal... I've got to find someone before I leave town tomorrow, darn it!
So, back to work now on all my music for the concert in Los Angeles! It's a kick-me-in-the-butt program of Aaron Copland's Emily Dickinson songs, two Mozart concert arias and the original version of Zerbinetta's aria. Not easy. Especially since the first two sections require low a's, and the last section requires multiple high E's and even a couple of F#'s!!! I've been studying up on Emily Copland and trying to analyze these poems. Also not easy. But very cool. I'm looking forward to L.A., but actually a bit mad at myself that I accepted to do some Fauré Requiems right afterwards in Napoli. It means I'll have to rush back to Europe instead of being able to hang out AFTER the hard concerts and see friends and visit. Oh well. L.A. will have to invite me BACK! Tell all your friends to come to my concerts! I'm so happy I'll get to stay with my sister Lisa in Long Beach, but hoping that her bathroom remodel won't kill my allergies... They just ripped out the walls today, and I arrive in a week. Hmmm. Cross your fingers for both of us!
All was not lost this weekend, as at least the turtle survived, I got the living room and bathroom organized, I'm feeling better (and the infection didn't give me pharyngitis), I got to hang out with my beautiful husband, and we even went to a building expo at the Lingotto on Sunday for two hours, and followed it with a steak dinner at Eataly, right next door. (More on EATALY here - http://www.eatalytorino.it/eatalytorino/welcome_eng.lasso) We saw lots of different ideas for a new house... and good news is, Monday we heard back from our realtor that our offer on a house here in Turin is probably going to be accepted (wayyyy below the listed price!) It is Italy, so I'm not holding my breath til we have the keys in hand. Keep your fingers crossed. Then will come all the major remodeling... I'm dreaming already of molding, tiles, kitchens, flooring and CLOSETS! ahhhh.
But it's all very exciting. Now that the garage, basement, living room, kitchen and bathroom are organized, Tullio's place here feels a heck of a lot more liveable. Now if I can just get the closet and bedroom organized! hee hee! That's for my next week-long furlough at home... whenever that is.
Off to Paris tomorrow to rehearse the Messiah with Emmanuelle and her orchestra Le Concert D'Astrée. http://leconcertdastree.fr/ I can't wait - it'll be the same gang as Frankfurt, so things are a bit more relaxed now that we know what we want to do with the piece. Emmanuelle has also been sick as a dog this weekend, so I hope she's gotten better. Her daughter was in the hospital with the swine flu! Argh. Say a few prayers for them, as well.
I'm hoping to be able to cross paths with one of my best friends, Malinda, and her husband Jonathan in Paris, as well!
I'm hoping to be able to cross paths with one of my best friends, Malinda, and her husband Jonathan in Paris, as well!
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posted by Laura @ 5:00 AM
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