But it is only beautiful because every single person on stage takes it seriously. If there was a single dancer cracking a smile or in anyway betraying a hint of embarrassment at their art form, the whole thing would lose its poignancy and fall apart. Afterall, if you think about what is actually happening onstage, it’s easy to see where the goofy embarrassment could come from. You, the dancer, are half-naked, flinging your limbs about in ways that are completely unnatural to tell a story with no words and often no other people. Really, dance is ridiculous.

Yet when it is done with sincerity and commitment, it becomes so much more than the sum of it’s parts. Suddenly, it is about human expression at its rawest and most primal form. The sincerity turns something ridiculous into art. The same can be said for all performance. When we break down what we are doing as performers, it is something quite bizarre and eccentric. But when we do it under the guise of sincerity, it becomes something truly beautiful. Most opera arias are melodramatic and overblown but if the performer cares, then the audience will care as well. We can apply this idea to our own personalities as well. Those who act with sincerity are better received than those who nervously second-guess themselves.

It is an interesting concept, this idea that by portraying the ridiculous as sincere we can complete something completely different, but it is what makes art work. Art is an exaggeration of life moreso than mere imitation. Art is not particularly relevant to the dreary real world in and of itself, but with heart in sincerity it enhances the very real lives we live.

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.

It’s easy enough to recall back to a year ago, when I was rapidly auditioning at conservatories. While these auditions certainly had more at stake (ie my future) than the ones I did this year, somehow the process of doing so many was enough to eradicate the nerves that usually plague me. So it was a little surprising when I found myself nervous again in the hours leading up to the first audition. Walking into the room, I could feel my mouth dry completely. Standing in the crook of the piano, I was distinctly aware of my right heel drilling into the ground.

The ones this weekend were easier. Saturday’s audition included a very productive five minutes with Heidi Skok that are already taking influence over my developing technique. I believe I was too excited at being in New York City (admittedly, a place I loathe but that is for another post) to actually acknowledge that I was really too young to be auditioning for this program and that I would be judged by people who had sung at The Met. Somehow, walking out of that audition, I felt I had once again found my stride.

Unfortunately, every singer also has off-days vocally, even when the nerves are kept in check.

Perhaps it was exhaustion, but I probably wasn’t as dedicated to today’s audition as I could have been. My “warm-up” period was minimal at best and very unfocused. Yet I still wasn’t ready to walk into that room and hear myself crack and grovel my way through a piece I usually own. And so, as the music progressed and my mind started to panic, I stared out across the room in a desperate effort to pretend nothing was wrong. Of course, giving off the impression that I usually sing like a frog was not what I had driven an hour to do but suddenly, I didn’t have much of a choice. What I truly wanted to do, to stop singing right there, apologize, and leave, was impossible.

It is acknowledged that these things happen. There will always be an audition that makes us want to melt into the floor so that we can spare both ourselves and the judges the unjust misery of completing the song. The last time I had an audition like that, I think, was two years ago at my audition for Penn State. But for some odd reason, right now I feel quite content. Yes, I blew the audition. But that happens to absolutely everyone. I blew one that wasn’t important (well, they all are or else I wouldn’t audition, but this one less so) and I managed to fail miserably in what I hope was a graceful fashion. That, was a first.

I think, at the end of the day, it comes back to how much confidence we have in ourselves. I still spend the majority of my time wondering if I can actually carry a tune, let alone sing well, but the hours that I am able to suppress such thoughts are becoming more frequent. And that’s what I have to fall back on. When I fail an audition, or even when I do well, having the security of knowing both my limits and my strengths can carry me through. There will always be another audition and, in the meantime, there will always be something else to work on. If there wasn’t, singing would get awfully boring very fast.

And then I get sick.

Sometimes, I lose my voice, and that’s obviously a battle all its own. But then there are days like today (and for that matter, the past week): my voice is fine. I am fine. I feel normal… except that I’m exhausted.

This gets to me. I am just healthy enough to appreciate how much time I am wasting trying to get better. My schedule gets pushed around and messed with which, for me, renders the whole thing pointless. I am not practicing, I am brewing tea. I am not practicing, I am running to Walgreen’s for more Sudafed. I am not practicing, I am taking a nap. I am not practicing, I am reading a book. I am not practicing, I am writing a blog about just how miserable it is to have a cold.

The bottom line, of course, is that I am not practicing.

And I like practicing.

The truth is, because I haven’t lost my voice (or even come close) I could practice. However, I am (thankfully) familiar enough with my voice to know that practicing with such low energy and focus would accomplish about one-tenth of what I can get done when I am healthy. And I am also aware that the only thing practicing could do right now is further engrave bad habits of lazy singing and sap any energy I have left.

So, at the end of the day, what I need to focus on is getting healthy so that I can be productive again.

And getting healthy means not being productive at all.

Right.

But I can only consume so many Passion teas (“a tantalizing blend of hibiscus”) before getting sick of it, and the other Tazo teas have come to taste bland and unimaginative. After all, taking an English Breakfast, changing the name, and putting the bag in bold red packaging doesn’t mean that the tea is something original and special.

It was time to stop taking whatever tea was handed me and become proactive in my tea search. A friend recommended a little tea shop in Bethesda and today, driven by a cold and an exhausted tea stock, I decided to finally start doing this tea thing right. So, after entering the tea shop and wandering around aimlessly (not to mention visibly lost) for a few minutes, an employee finally stepped in to put an end to this and asked what I was looking for.

“Tea.”

“Alright, we have that, you can get it right here,” she said, gesturing to the counter.

Not knowing how a tea shop (or maybe just this tea shop) works, I started to clarify “no, no. I’m looking for tea leaves. Like, to brew at home.” (Any more babbling and I would have asked “where do you keep those?”)

“Well, you get those here, too” she explained, again indicating the counter and more than implying that I should take a step over there.

Standing opposite me at the counter, she passed over a long menu of teas. I had known that there must be teas outside of Earl Grey and Chamomile, but I had never anticipated there being so many different kinds. There were teas with caffeine and teas without; teas with blueberries, lavender, peaches, and flower petals; teas that came in little containers and teas that came by the crateful. White teas, black teas, green teas, herbal teas, and something called “Oolong” I had never even heard of! The only thing they had in common was that none of them came in tea bags.

But then there were the tea pots! They came in all different price ranges, styles, and colors. Some had mesh infusers inside and I decided that, if I was going to start brewing my own tea, I would need to get one of those. After staring at the menu for a good ten minutes, I decided on three new teas. Of course, I still haven’t ventured incredibly far from my Earl Grey (this time with Rose petals) and Chamomile (infused with lavender) roots, but the white peach blossom tea was something new.

As soon as I got home I boiled water for the white tea and eagerly unpacked my dark green tea pot with a floral cutout on the side. I am here to tell you, dear readers, that my new teas are absolutely wonderful. I cannot believe I stuck to such a narrow selection of bagged teas for so long, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be going back. Even when I’m living in my future refrigerator box, I hope to find some way to get my hands on wonderful tea.

Every singer should have wonderful tea.

I’ve done a little bit of house-keeping today. None of the old posts will be deleted, but from now on this blog is going to focus more on my life as a singer/music major (with a few random posts here and there, to be sure). In all honestly, it was pretty much like this anyways.

Enjoy!

The next post should be up in a few minutes and it will be about TEA.

But, aside from that, I actually do have a few “resolutions” for this year. I don’t necessarily think that resolutions must be kept on a schedule ie: January 1-January 1, but that does seem as good a starting point as any… and if for some reason I fall short, I can still give myself license to just keep going, as opposed to waiting for 2011 to make any progress.

1. Blog more
–Finish the blogs I start

2. Be more dependable
–If I say I’ll do something, I should do it, shouldn’t I?

3. Practice piano more
–And for that matter, voice

5. Smile more

6. Know how to laugh things off and when it’s okay to let them stop you.

And I’m sure there are others that I will add as I think of them.

Maybe it’s good?

How else do we pay our lawmakers, pave our roads, educate our children, and send our military heroes to school?

“Taxes are the price we pay for a civilized society.”

Now, could we please make an effort to remember that?