A lot has happened in the past few months and I am not sure why I didn’t bother to write about any of it. We are now five weeks into the summer and I’m starting to feel like a professional singer. I ended up getting cast in all three operas I auditioned for back in March, and had to turn one down on account of it conflicting with another.
Last week, we finished the production of Don Giovanni with the Loudoun Lyric Opera. Despite the minimal chorus in Don Giovanni, the weeks leading up to the performances were still exhausting and full of more music than I thought even I could tolerate. But not only was it tolerable, it further cemented the idea in my mind that classical music is rapidly becoming who I am. Being immersed in music that is centuries old, sung by some of the finest voices I have ever heard, was not only a fantastic learning experience but completely enjoyable to boot. And yet, as after the end of any tech week-run marathon, all I really wanted to do last Monday was sit around for a day with no music, no commitments, nothing but me and a movie and the dog.
But for the first time, that’s not what happened. Don Giovanni wasn’t even over yet and already I was in rehearsal for something else. I spent last week alternating between City Choir of Washington rehearsals for the Beethoven Found Concert Gala, and Don Giovanni. Every second of every day seems to produce new music to learn, new nuances to discover, and new reasons to love the life I have chosen. Don Giovanni finally closed last Thursday and last night was the Beethoven Found Concert.
For the second time in my life, I found myself backstage at the Kennedy Center, marveling at the luck I must have to be surrounded by such fine musicians all of the time. I spent the day in and out of rehearsal and then performing with the City Choir for a packed concert hall–and for a standing ovation. Standing onstage seeing two thousand people simultaneously leap out of their seats…nothing like it. At intermission, all of the women in the choir quickly changed from choir gowns to ball gowns to go upstairs and watch the second part from our own nosebleed seats. But I suppose nothing is official without a “let’s congratulate ourselves on how awesome we are” cocktail party afterward. A life of concerts and black tie galas? Can I be a singer forever? Seriously… and I thought I just liked the music!
But, as per usual, I am being ironic. Because venues and parties aside, the music has always been and always will be what keeps me going–I crave a new piece to learn, and more magic (that only music brings) to discover. Still, I woke up this morning ready to take a day off. After all, I have been constantly in rehearsal for two months and somehow still practicing for my recital this fall in my “free time” (a foreign phrase by this point). At first, this seemed like a good idea; yes I have to learn an insane amount of music for Resonanz in five weeks but come on… that’s five weeks? I have time.
Time. As soon as I thought the words “I have time” I knew something was wrong. I don’t get time! And then I remembered: of course I don’t have time… I got an email two days ago asking if I was available for a paying gig in two weeks. So yes, I have an insane amount of music to learn and not much time before the first rehearsal tomorrow. All music gigs aside, I’m still starting my “real job” this weekend. I certainly have time for it, but now I have a music performance schedule to work around, too.
But you know what? I’m okay with that. I’m nineteen and somehow going through what feels like my first summer as a professional singer. I keep finding new places to sing, and some are starting to find me! It’s an amazing feeling–to be busy because I am doing what I love. But for today, I am finally taking that day off. There will be time tomorrow to learn the music, and so much time down the road for countless gigs, church jobs, operas, concerts, and maybe even a party or two. For right now, I’m just enjoying it, continually practicing and working tirelessly to ensure that this new world becomes my life.
