Getting it together

I know I haven't written in a while. Truth be told...I've actually been BUSY! Who knew? B

Spring has sprung in Mississippi (which means summer is about 2 days away as far as temperature and humidity are concerned!), and this is what's going on with the Soprano on the Loose...


I have about 15 students in private instruction for voice and piano. They range in age from 5 to 28. Definitely keeping me on my toes. One 10-yr-old boy is a future composer/nanotechnologist(?), and yes, that is what he told me. I have a marine biologist that just began taking piano again after being out on a boat for a while. Must be nice! Then there's the smattering of teens and pre-teens who are positively excited to be taking lessons and enhancing their lives with music! I only have a couple of kids who watch the clock while we're in the studio; most of them actually tell me how much fun they have. I'm grateful for this new element of teaching in my life. It's providing the little bit of stability I've needed to feel normal...well, mostly normal. :0

Back in March, I performed a very successful run of the play Lend Me A Tenor (now being revived on Broadway with Stanley Tucci directing) at Center Stage in Biloxi. Being able to do the show multiple times was a new experience for me. With opera, usually you get 2 or 3 performances, maybe 4 depending on size of the company and if it's double cast or not.

But, I got to be Maggie Saunders 9 whole times and enjoyed every minute of it! There were the usual things that stress you out during the run of a show, but all in all, it went smoothly. Although, I had the dress from hell for Act II. It was beautiful, yes, but it gave the costumer such problems. The zipper had to be replaced twice, once right before opening night and again on the evening before our final performance.

Of course, it could have been because I had to disrobe and redress onstage every night! If you didn't see it...sorry you missed out! Hey, maybe they'll need somebody to step in on Broadway. I'll just keep waiting for Guffman, I guess.

After the play was over, I had a couple of weeks to prepare for a concert of Vivaldi's Gloria. I was so glad to have something else to focus on right away. There's always a certain depression that comes with the wrap of a show. In general, it's always helpful to have something scheduled on the calendar to look forward to, preferably in close proximity.

The concert went over really well, with a standing room only audience. We had a mixed community/high school choir with a combined high school orchestra with some pros thrown in for the really hard stuff (that's me!). I hope to be able to post some video from it soon. Check back in the next few days.


So...coming up...

This week I rehearse and perform with the Gulf Coast Opera Theatre at Beauvoir in Biloxi, the historic home of Jefferson Davis. We will be singing Confederate era songs on the front steps of the home.


I promise I'll be back sooner this time. I know you missed hearing about my life ;)!

Latest Musings in the Life of Katie Kaboom

Katie Kaboom was one of my nicknames I earned from my mother. Remember the cartoon? Steven Spielberg Presents Animaniacs (1993), where several wacky characters had mini-episodes of their own, featured 5 episodes of Katie Kaboom: a teenage girl with a literal explosive reaction to everyday teenage issues.

Piggy-backing on my stellar "crunchy munchy" fit as a toddler, I spent my adolescence lashing out and making noise: wailing and sobbing instead of crying, and arguing at full tilt. Fights with my sister were knock-down and drag-out. Fingernails were powerful torture devices; shoes were projectile weapons. If this sounds familiar, then you will understand why it's funny to revisit that side of yourself as an adult. In a way, it's helpful, too. I think it helps me answer "Why am I the way I am? Why this pursuit of happiness instead of another?"

It's not fair to blame my parents, but it comes down to the fact that the Fleming family argued(s). A lot. We, the Fleming children, were/are, as a result, encouraged to voice our opinions. Wait! Not merely opinions, but well thought-out, structured hypotheses with supporting factual elements. It's exhausting.

Of course, one requirement of arguing effectively, whether in formal debate or explosive madness, is a flair for language, use of projection and clear speech, and an ability to persuade...to make those listening understand, internalize, and believe what you express. OK!? See where this is going, yet?

Kids who grow up to be actor/singer/dancers do it for one of two reasons: Either the kid is shy and needs to be brought out of her shell, or she is rowdy, emotionally-charged, and creative and needs an outlet. [Unfortunately, kids "nowadays" who (and whose parents) buy into the Generation Idol mentality think they all can be performers.] My parents and I knew very early on that I had a gift for performance...or at least being annoying. My stage was wherever I could find it: rain-slicked concrete--I fell and busted my chin open and needed stitches; a stone slab over a gravesite--there's actually a picture of this one; church, school, playground, bathroom (um...can anybody say "great acoustics"?), anywhere.

So, as a grown-up...this is what happened:
With the talent for performance + the talent for persuasion in argument+ encouragement to think through ideas+ the need for an outlet for emotional expression+ ability to be really LOUD, I became an opera singer...an opera singer who feels release much like her alter ego Katie Kaboom. Those of you who sing know that a free voice is a powerful voice. The eruption of sound from the body is primal and runs deep in connection with the spiritual/emotional side of being human: Violent and Beautiful at the same time. So, singing for me, as it turns out, is a creative and pleasant way to go "KABOOM!" I have gotten used to this release so much over my years of study and performance that, when trying to express my thoughts in just plain words, I actually wish it were socially acceptable to burst into song! No...really. or at least carry my guitar around to provide background music for a conversation. :)


For now, I'm singing a little less than what I consider normal, and am stifled from not feeling that specific kind of release. Some days, I feel Katie Kaboom tugging at my sleeve, reminding me that I still have access to the disastrous, adolescent reaction to everyday life. Those days, I try to find the reset button.

----------------------

I am rehearsing for a play right now, though, so that is some outlet for expression, but it comes nowhere close to the

I'm a tight-rope walker...

skier on the moguls...

edge of disaster or triumph, who knows?...

let-'er-rip...

extremely high on life.......and GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM!...

experience that is singing.

Trying to put it into words trivializes it, but I had to.
Try, that is.

Will someone please give Katie Kaboom a singing job so she doesn't kill her family and everyone she loves?!

Thanks for listening.

Anchors A-Weigh

As January comes to a close, I am looking forward to the possibilities of the rest of 2010.

Here's what's up right now:

I am teaching voice and piano lessons, auditioning locally, starting a fitness/yoga club, and enjoying bonding time with my Gracie Lou. (see pic)


So what's with the picture of the boat?


My deep thoughts for the day(Actually, these are thoughts that occurred late last night while trying too hard to fall asleep):



An anchor is something that carries weight, or weighs you down, plants you in one place or situation. A negative connotation implies being stuck, perhaps permanently to one thing or person. An anchor drags you down....or maybe not.

I'm afloat in a small boat on a slightly breezy and beautiful sunny day. I'm anchored up near shore at a shallow depth of about 3 feet. While I enjoy basking and floating, I trust that my boat won't stray from where I put it.

And yet, it does drift with the waves, however far the anchor will allow.

A pivotal point.

The anchor, providing stability, gives freedom to the vessel within a certain radius.

OK...I'm not trying to come up with some New Age religiophilosophical mess...but...


Those of us who, so far, lead seemingly transient lives, understand the longing for this anchor.

Is it a Place?

Is it God?

Money? A Person?

A mission or quest?

A true artist might claim that the art itself it sufficient. BUT! For a performer, those moments of artistic bliss are, by nature, fleeting.

So what do we do?

I've found my anchors at times to exist mostly in people. A place can be an anchor for a time, but that place changes when the people that make that place special are no longer there. And, since I have moved to a different place nearly every year I was away from home, I know that a place is not my reliable anchor.

[Side: There are cities that provide more of an anchor than others, like New Orleans or Paris, because they have enough character and charm and music and art and history to create a lifetime love affair. The anchoring effect lasts even though you yourself are not there.]

Of course, we all know that people themselves change, too. So, that's out. And what one person would want the responsibility of being that point you pivot around? Then again, there's that opposite and equally enforced idea that people DON'T change. Depends on context, I suppose.

One type of anchor is not necessarily better than another. Perhaps God would be the most obvious and best choice. But we are not perfect, and we ourselves are not reliable vessels. Due to the many stages of faith, often described as a journey, a sense of faith alone would be a difficult, often wavering anchor.

So I ask again, what do we do? Where can we, the transient, look for that anchor? Is it a combination of all of the above? Can we, the artistic vessel, through our conviction and passion for our craft, provide an anchor within ourselves?

Obviously, I don't know the answer yet. Maybe this stuff just figures itself out? All this thinking made me hungry, so I'm getting a snack for now. Let me know what you think.

New Year, New Start, and the "N" word...Part II

Status check....

Mid-January: 2 flat-out "No"s, 2 "No Thank You"s, 1 very nice "No, but maybe NEXT YEAR", and 2 pending.

There's a reason why people believe in their Lucky Stars, Fate, Destiny, What's Meant to Be Will Be, Change is Inevitable or Change is Good. Because...in truth, it really sucks not getting what you want when you want it. The concept is everywhere: visual arts, literature, film, poetry, maybe even in science (think Chaos Theory). Those big ideas (ideals) that we search for: True Love, Fortune, Fame, Respect, Honor, Glory....all have one thing in common....work hard enough on your end of things and somehow, someday, the universe will align and give you your every heart's desire. On its own time, of course. Why?

Because good things come to those who...what?....wait. Or at least to those to actively wait; those who are pursuing one thing in a specific direction until the path of What's Coming to You intersects (or collides) with the path you are traveling.

I have recently become a fan of Gregory Maguire's twisted fairy tale novels. I started with Wicked (awesome), then Son of a Witch (strange but fantastic), then over to the Cinderella story in The Ugly Stepsister, and then the third in the Wicked series, A Lion Among Men, the novel which illustrates my point further. Maguire prefaces with a quote from Eric Kraft:


"A statement about luck is a statement about the mind, not about the world...We find what seems to have been the lucky break or the big mistake, so we thank our lucky stars that we took the road less traveled or curse the fates that sent that little wavelet that flipped us on our backs. With hindsight, we seem to see that everything preceding the pivotal point was leading up to it, tending toward it, and that everything following it grew from it.

To any observer outside the lucky one himself, however, luck is simply chance. Chance is neutral." --from "I Consider My Luck" in Brothers and Beasts: An Anthology of Men on Fairy Tales.

I could have stopped right there. All of what I have been trying to put into words about this life that I lead were right there on that page. If this is how I can view the progress of my existence, then I am still WAITING for that one moment that defines everything else.

In a lot of ways, I feel I have chosen, either consciously or subconsciously, ways in life to test my patience: Working with children, waiting rooms in clinics, and of course, a career in classical music. [Side note: I have a self-diagnosed condition I have come to call "Buffet Anxiety." Anytime there is food involving standing in a line, I nearly have a panic attack waiting for my turn.]

My hope is that I don't fall apart before my defining moment comes around. A great test of patience is upon me as I file away this year's audition responses. But patience here is more about doing the little things and trusting that they all add up to that one moment that eventually, at least, seems pivotal.

So perhaps NO turns into NOT NOW. Or better, NOT YET.

Ultimately, I realize that a "Yes" for one thing will define the next "Not Yet" I will focus on.


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"But don't get hung up on it, just soldier on with it. And good luck with shooting the moon."

---"Shooting the moon" by Ok Go

New Year, New Start, and the "N" word...Part I

Happy New Year, everyone! It's 2010, and boy, am I glad! In a way, I feel like I don't have much to show for myself with the passing of 2009. I survived it; that's about it. Sure, I had my small successes and some moderately good deeds, but overall, I feel the best is yet to come. And who wouldn't want to feel that way, anyway?

But first, I should take a moment to review, reflect, and reconsider what success can mean:

Those of you who have read my other entries know that for the better part of 2009, I was living in New York City. Living and working and singing and eating and working out and and and...

If I take a minute to remember details, which as of late, I have discovered is a challenge for me, I see the tiny, insignificant moments of everyday as a large part of my success for the past year. Examples? Every time I caught the 6 train heading downtown and actually found a seat. Or, remembering to bring my umbrella and wear rain boots when it was going to pour.

After moving away from the city and temporarily into my aunt's place outside of DC, I realized quickly that making a to-do list on a daily basis would help me feel better about life in general. I wasn't working and had to focus on auditions. There were days when I didn't even go outside. I needed an agenda. My list usually went something like this:

• Wake up before 10.....check, well, mostly check.
  
• Brush teeth...check.
• Eat something...check. (yes, I put that on the list...)
• Practice at some point
• Clean up room, maybe
• Return emails
• Exercise
• Eat something else

Checking off the simplest things made enough positive impact to get through a day and feel productive. If you haven't tried this, I highly recommend it. I'm sure Oprah would agree.

Audition season, Sept-Dec, was a success in that I showed up and did my best every time. I've expounded on this in previous blog entries, so I won't go into detail. But, I will put it on the "yay for me" list for 2009.
Holiday time rolled around, and I came home to Mississippi. For the first time in years, I was truly Home for the Holidays. We, my Dad and Mom and I, made the trip by car from Virginia to the MS Gulf Coast. (I grew up going on long car rides and road trips, so I wasn't surprised that this would be our mode of transportation.)

Shortly after somewhat settling in with boxes and clothes and stuff, as I have done so many times in different places, I was able to organize a few holiday musical appearances.

The first was the annual Singing Christmas Tree at my home church. What I learned: apparently I have no idea how to sing with a microphone in my hand. There was no class in college or grad school entitled Classical Vocal Technique and Sound Systems 101. Who knew it would be so different? Seriously, I felt like I couldn't sing with my trained voice because of the mic. I'm sure it was completely psychological. Even so...I'll work on that.

About a week before Christmas, I went on a local radio show.

Margaret Cooper's "Looking around" (on WOSM 103.1 FM) features local artists, musicians, people in ministry, and just your everyday folks from the area. This time made my third guest spot on her show, the first having been New Year's Day 2009.






What I learned: The host can ask whatever she wants, so when you are "on the air," you better have something to say back. Also, since I am a live music act in the studio, I should have more than enough music prepared. I only officially had 4 pieces worked up for the show. Since I was the only official guest that day (she usually has 3 or 4 at least), I had to fill time. As a result, I got to play and sing one of my original songs! AND I got a party gig for that very same evening. Also, I learned that it is important to have a strong promoter with you (Dad, in my case) to remind you what to talk about. Doesn't hurt that he also plays piano and helped me out with a jazzy Jingle Bells number that we improvised on air!

Two days later, still before Christmas, I received emails regarding results of two auditions. They joined the many that have come before them in the pile of NOT NOW, NEVER (YEAH RIGHT), NEIN, NOPE, NO NO NO NO NO!

Needless to say, this was not a great early Christmas present, especially since I had felt so great about my performances in both of these auditions.

What I learned: it is much easier to deal with anticipation of results than when they actually come in as what you didn't want to hear.

Fortunately, I had a Christmas Eve service to look forward to. As the soloist for the night, I sat in the front of the church in my red and green taffeta gown next to Reverend Anna Fleming, who is, yes, my sister.


Before the holidays, I kept telling myself (and everyone else) that I would "regroup" after the holidays. Guess what! No more stalling...

So what now?

Stay tuned for the next installment:

New Year, New Start, and the "N" word...Part II: what to do when all I hear is "No!"

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Made for Walking

Here I go...back to New York. Then Philadelphia. Then Pittsburgh. Then Baltimore for a couple of hours. Then home. The physical journey is nothing compared to the mental journey this trip will put me through. 4 cities, two buses, two planes, and some subway rides mixed in, all in a matter of 6 days. In transit, there's always time for mental exercise. Today was no exception, collecting thoughts while on the Big Blue Bus:

There are a lot of sayings about walking.

Walk a mile in my shoes...

These boots were made for walking...

Different walks of life...

Take it one step at a time...

The act of putting one foot in front of the other has played a symbolic role in ancient history as well as in the modern world. Think back to the Bible stories where God's people walked for 40 years straight. Later, Jesus came, and He walked on water.

Today, we walk to raise money for a good cause. We walk to express concern over tax reform. Walking alone can cool a hot temper, settle a full stomach, jog your memory, keep you healthy, body and mind. It's so much more than point A to point B.

In the past year, I estimate that I have walked a total of 1500 miles. Seriously. While living in New York City, I walked everywhere, going to work or a voice lesson, shopping or killing time. Some days I walked while pushing a stroller or carrying heavy bags or pulling a suitcase or with someone's preciously tired toddler on my hip...in the rain. You may be wondering, given the endless options of public transit in New York, why I walked so very much. Truth be told, it's easier. I only needed to rely on myself, my own two feet and endurance. The subway schedule was not always reliable, neither were buses, and I never got in a cab unless I was feeling a little bit diva that day, mainly because traffic is awful everywhere and going 10 blocks can take 30 minutes.

The year before that, I was living in Baltimore after finishing grad school at Peabody. With a new apartment, new roomie, full-time job, and a startlingly new approach to everyday, I still didn't have a car. I've never had one. (Yes, I do have a license, and I'm a very good driver.) My job as a front desk agent (see pic below) at a downtown hotel was about two miles from my apartment. When I first started, it was summer and I worked the 3-11pm shift, so walking to work was mostly pleasant. But when I switched to the 7am-3pm shift as fall and winter came closer, I awoke in darkness, sometimes with rain or snow, and dreaded the half hour trek to work. I could have taken a combination of bus and light rail, but any permutation of the routes always came out to at least an hour commute, which meant waking up earlier and spending money instead of just calories.

[Don't worry. I will get to how this relates to singing...]

There were days that I really got down on myself. I remember crying on the walk home several times, exhausted from being on my feet all day, not wanting to sacrifice a dime that I earned toward a cab, and thinking "how could this be me? I can't believe I'm a person that has to do this."

It's taken a little while, but after traveling to Europe twice, discovering every nook and cranny of Manhattan's Upper East Side, and investing in some heavy duty rain boots, I have a profound appreciation for being able to walk great distances under any conditions.

Last spring, I met one of my favorite opera singers, Natalie Dessay. (Now one of the most recognized names in the world of opera, Ms. Dessay captured my heart when I was studying Lakmé as an undergraduate at Loyola.) She said something to me that day that I hold in my heart every time I get the least bit discouraged. I fought back tears of appreciation and awe as I greeted her and told her I was a singer, too. "Just keep improving and improving, and eventually, you'll get there," she advised. It was a statement from someone who started out dancing and acting before taking singing seriously

I realize a little more each day that this career is indeed down a seemingly never ending winding path before me: A journey from point A to point somewhere-else-who-knows. Natalie says I’ll “get there,” as if the “there” were actually a place existing in time and space. If only. I’ve been to the Met. I’ve been “there.” It isn’t the place that I’m after, not the point B. If that were the case, I’d be done! Perhaps I adore walking so much now because the forward motion at least gives the illusion of progress in other categories of my life. As long as I can put one foot in front of the other, the possibilities are quite endless. I think she is right, though. If nothing else, she is saying that step by step, we all get somewhere. The "there" may be a fabulous career in performance, or a small-town family life, or something in between.

I was made for this walking that I do. And tomorrow I will walk into another audition, and on Saturday, another. I might not be wandering in a desert or fighting for a good cause, but what I do, I do in good faith, a faith that all this walking will get me there...eventually. Just like Natalie said. And who knows? I might have to walk until there is nowhere else to go.

Practice Makes ...?

Practicing has been something I've done for almost all my life.
At an early age, my parents encouraged me to take piano lessons, join the band at school, and sing in the childrens' choir at church. I believe my Alfred piano books are still somewhere around my parents' house. My beautiful, twice-repaired, silver Bach Stradivarius trumpet is there somewhere, too. My voice, thankfully, stayed with me.

I officially began to study singing at age 16. I entered The Junior Miss Scholarship Program (do NOT call it a pageant, please!) and needed the help of a voice teacher to perfect my Talent for the competition. Rebecca Grimes, a lovely soprano herself, helped me choose a piece that was impressive enough, yet short enough to fit into the 90 second time constraint. Up until then, my repertoire included everything from Madrigals to Mariah Carey, from Gilbert and Sullivan to Andrew Lloyd Webber. But never any honest-to-goodness opera arias. [aside: There is much debate over when, as a classical voice teacher, to give your students arias as opposed to art songs and show tunes. Of course, I didn't know what was what then, so I didn't know it was supposed to be hard. As a result, I thought it was pretty easy!] My teacher chose "O mio babbino caro" from Gianni Schicchi.

Check it out for yourself. My Dad is pretty good at archiving most everything I've ever recorded. This was recorded in Mobile, Alabama. I have to admit, it is pretty hilarious to listen to myself from 10 years ago!

Now that I have been practicing how to sing for 10 years, you would think I would know exactly what to expect when I open my mouth. Most of the time, I feel like the opposite is true. I have had three different full time voice teachers, and other influences from teachers and coaches along the way. As a result, my vocal technique has grown and changed as my voice has, which is a good thing. The challenge lies in the fact that a human voice changes with age, time of day, mood, diet, exercise, you name it. Practicing becomes a time when I have to determine how to negotiate around different issues, instead of focusing on the communicative power of the music and language. The effort of practice, then, is more about reducing the negative than reinforcing the positive. After a while, mental exhaustion sets in, and it is very easy to either push too hard or just give up.

Today, I experimented with a different approach to my practice time. I began the day fairly early, up at 7:30, singing by 8:30am! I got my creative juices flowing alongside my glass of regular juice, writing lyrics to a partially written "pop" song (as opposed to classical) I've been working on. As I wrote, I picked up my guitar and sang. I let whatever was going to come out, just come out. Nobody was there to listen and critique. But I have to say, it was pretty darn good. Without warming up. Without nit-picking. Without thinking, really.

After about an hour and a half, and finishing that song, I went right into practicing my opera audition repertoire. I was amazed at how free I felt to express, both physically and vocally, the aria I worked on. All of a sudden, I felt more in character, and the aria was more a part of me. I let the vibe of Rossini become incorporated with my own intuitive creative vibe.

What it comes down to is Trust, Faith, and Love: Trust that all the PRACTICE hours I have put in thus far has added up and made me the singer I am today; Faith that my attention to detail and to my own artistic soul will eventually help me reach my goals; and finally, Love, extreme passion for the craft of expression through musical performance, and complete willingness to approach new and old pieces alike with wild abandon.

Oh, did I mention I was crowned Jackson County Junior Miss that year? Yep.