Ahhh... I have been working my butt off to try to recruit some singers for my dad. My dad is musically starved, and that's what it really comes down to. He really needs a choir. He needs to be making music. He's really quite brilliant at it is the thing. He's one of the best directors I've ever worked with, and I'm not saying that just because he's my father. I'm saying that because he KNOWS how to make music, and that is always his goal. His standards are high, and I have come to appreciate that. He also knows at this point in his life at least, how to be totally inclusive. Tonight he made a speech that really made me proud. At the Brahms rehearsal tonight there were 4 altos, 2 sopranos, 1 tenor, and 1 bass, and we had some good moments just sight reading the thing. We had people at all levels of skill. We need more people though. My friend Crystal is going to do some recruiting in Paragould. Craig is going to contact the guys from ASU choir again. I just hope it will be enough. We need 24 singers for right now, and we need to be planting seeds to recruit 100 in the next year. Ug. 100. Sean, my choir director at church, asked my father tonight if he wanted to conduct the second half of a concert that he's putting together to take to New York to perform in Lincoln Center. Don't ask me how he has those kind of connections. He does. He recently went to Texas to perform a recital with the leading tenor at La Scala who's a good friend of his. Sean is a damn fine accompanist.  Anyway, this concert would consist of the Mozart Requiem for Sean's half, and my father wants to do... take a wild guess. Yup, Brahms. But we need 100+ singers, plus orchestra probably. This concert would take place over Memorial Day weekend in 2011. Ah, could we make it happen? I sure hope so. 

I haven't posted in awhile, so I thought that I'd write something today. The second week of school has ended, and so far it's going well. I performed in studio class on Wednesday, and Dr. Kyriakos pointed out something of which I was unaware. She has been on faculty since last fall. She said that she heard improvement in my singing since then, and that it was rare to hear such improvement in such a short period of time. Okay, so this made me feel good. Honestly, my process is almost unconscious at this point. Every time I open my mouth, I'm thinking about what I'm doing. It's second nature.

There is this thing about singing and voice training that is a bit of a conundrum. A person cannot accurately hear themselves. What is resonating inside your head, and what it sounds like outside of yourself are two completely different things. One has to go by feel. I can feel when I'm going flat, but I can't always hear it. This actually makes me wonder at how I am doing at singing in different styles these days. Am I starting to get that "too trained" sound?

Mr. Carey, my voice teacher, is doing something different with me. He's having me sing musical theater pieces. He made a little speech before teaching me how to sing musical theater in which he explained that it can be beneficial to a trained singer, because it requires that you sing with less voice, and a sound that is not as, well, "trained." This all ties into having command over your instrument. I agree with this whole heartedly. He also said something about how it would be good for me, because I had been singing classically for so long, and that was all I knew, etc. Ummm.... yeah. He's making a pretty big assumption there. I actually got started in musical theater. I was in my first musical when I was six. When I was eighteen I wanted to be an actress/singer on Broadway. I had already performed a leading role in a musical by that point. That was the track I was on. I was in love with the craft of acting. I was a triple threat, an actress/singer/dancer. (sigh) Assumptions are what keep us from truly seeing each other. I feel like I've done this myself lately. Why do we tend to make decisions about people rather than recognizing that there are things that we do not know? Why do we resist having questions? It is the way to find out an answer that is true.

So Mr. Carey is now training me to sing musical theater. He's training me according to his own personal taste, mind you. These are the days when I really miss Mary Jane. I moved my entire life to study with her after having had one masterclass with her. Now that I'm older, I realize that that decision was pretty risky and hastily made. I knew what I wanted though. I recognized what she was immediately. After my first lesson with her in Kansas City, I knew that I had made the best decision of my life. She told me that her goal was to discover my authentic voice. I don't know why I left sometimes. Oh yeah, no possibility of a B.M in performance. That's why. I gave the most honest recital thus far under her tutelage. I'm not really allowed that honesty where I am now. I'm expected to perform, to entertain no matter what is going on with me. There is no discovery of my authentic voice either. My sound makes my father cry, but leaves me somewhat ambivalent. I appreciate the level of repertoire that I can handle now. I'm not ungrateful. Maybe this is why I have been so resistant to performing professionally. Mr. Carey will not let me say no to this, because he knows that I can. He just thinks, "Why not do it? All you have to do is sing and get paid for it." Yes, and be completely unfulfilled. The moments that fill me up are the ones that are not created by me. The day that I sang Amazing Grace in church was one of those moments, because I was able to communicate something real. I told my own story with that song. I was authentic. I didn't sing it like an opera singer either.

Ha! I sat down to write about my week and look at what came out. Actually this stuff has been churning around inside my head from my conversations with Jacob. He and I have been chatting on facebook pretty regularly, and I've become conscious of his perceptiveness and receptiveness to different performers' levels of honesty. He recognizes and appreciates that honesty.  He's also a performer in multiple styles of music. I suppose it is only natural that the above thoughts would follow suit. That's part of it, and then there are the other circumstances that tie into this.

So what is the answer here? I am a musician. There's being passionate about your path, and then there is also the reality of needing a livelihood. A friend has told me that I am only seeing a few doors when there are actually many to choose from. Why all of this doubt? There was once a time when I knew exactly what I wanted, and I possessed the conviction to make it happen. I said yes to the things that came my way and was open to new experiences. Hmmm... well, the bad experiences, I suppose, are the culprits for the doubt, but there were good ones, too. I just need to remind myself that there were good ones, too.

This is one of my arias. I have never heard it more beautifully performed than in this recording. In switching techniques, I have found more size and power, but I have lost some of the sensitivity in my approach. There's no reason why I cannot have both. Her production is so beautiful, it hurts. Every note is a caress. Time to go practice.

So I took a facebook quiz about "What Beatles song describes your life right now." Silly thing, I know. I actually think this is correct. I've even been praying to Mary some, a practice that I adopted in the Catholic exploration. I'm at ease and peaceful. I'm feeling very centered. Several people have been coming to me for comfort and guidance of late. It's flattering, and I'm glad that I can be helpful. Anyway, this caught my attention.

Well, I actually met Jacob this weekend. He's my first online connection, but we've occupied the same space now. We played music for a couple of hours on Sunday, and he is amazing. He was on piano and I was singing mostly. He sang some as well. He's a musical sponge. The music can go in, and he can bring it right back out again. Gifts like his are very rare. I might be making him blush if he's reading this. :-D He could play my aria accompaniments that I threw at him, and pretty much anything that he could hear in his head. But more than that is the beautiful soul that accompanies these gifts. He is an open-minded and genuine man of God. I'm glad he found me and befriended me. And currently, his family could use your prayers, so I ask that you lift them up for him.

A year ago today Phil entered my life. I can't help but think of him with the advent of the New Year. He was the one who said that 2008 would be a big year of healing for people. It certainly was for me. He was a catalyst for healing in my life in many ways, but the trust between us never really gelled, and he left. He had a lot of trust issues, and I wasn't quite myself. His presence seemed to bring out all my unfinished business. I could have seen him last night. I had an opportunity, but I didn't take it. I didn't really want to. I wish him all the happiness and healing in the world.

This year has brought me new friends and old. Jacob being the newest. Jacob is a unique find. He and I have some things in common that I have rarely found in this particular combination. Crystal is becoming an ever present source of support. Kitty is the most steadfast and patient and true. Q and Hilary and the gang are such a postive presence of openness and laughter. I've reconnected with my old friends, JT and Valerie, after a long absence from their lives, and I'm finding my life enriched by their presence. Tomorrow will be a reunion of some of the dearest friends of my life. Lauren, Wendy, Jim and I are getting together in KC for an evening.

These past few days have been spent with Alex, Olivia, and Spencer, three very different women and three very different musicians. Olivia is probably the most like me of the three, and I rang in the New Year with her. We went to a Kelley Hunt concert. She had never seen Kelley perform before. After the first song, which was amazing, Olivia turned to me with a look on her face, and I understood exactly what she was thinking. Sometimes we don't really need words. After the concert, we went out. We had a couple of Irish coffees and got into some deep conversation. Then we just wanted to go home. Neither one of us was in a party mood. We put on pajamas, and watched live from Lincoln Center like the music nerds that we are.

The biggest event of this past year is of course the birth of my nephew, Tobias, who fell asleep in my arms yesterday for the first time. It was glorious. I didn't want it to end. Neither did he. He was not a happy Schmoog when he had to leave the soft and warm for the cold car seat.

If the next year is anything like the past couple of weeks has been with my friends and family the most I would hope for is just more of the same.

One of my friends cornered me once and said, "Becca, you've changed religions more than anyone else I know." To an outsider that might be apparent. What I had to explain to him was this. My relationship with God knows no bounds. He will reach me through any means possible. Sometimes he communicates through Buddhist texts, sometimes through Christian. Sometimes through a greeting card. You think I'm kidding. It really happened. Often He communicates through people and circumstances. I converted to Catholicism at one point. In many ways I was lead through that entire process. Everytime I had a question, it would immediately come to me via circumstance. I would read it or hear it said. But as I took my vow, I realized that I could not hold to it. I simply didn't believe everything that the Catholic Church taught even though I saw a great deal of beauty there. There are still some of the teachings that are bouncing around in my head. My first confession was one of the most cleansing experiences of my life. I was glowing afterwards, but I couldn't stay. Not in good conscience. I knew that to stay would be dishonest. My journey has taken me through many facets of spirituality. Now I'm finding myself confronted with situations that are forcing me to really define what I believe. People want a definition. They want to know where you fit. I simply don't. I love God and that's about it. I can understand the Christian perspective. I honestly think that Christianity has aspects to it that other religions do not. It takes steps that others do not. It requres that you love your enemy. That is a huge demand. Thich Naht Hahn breaks this down, and he's a Buddhist. He says you can only love your enemy if you understand your enemy. This is truth. What is love? Understanding, loving kindness, forgiveness. To love your enemy is to take your enemy and turn him into a friend. So this is my religion. We are here to love each other and to love God. I went to mass last night and the priest said some things that truly moved me. He says that God wants us to be in love with Him. That he sees us and loves us with no limitation. Why is it so hard for people to trust that? Why is it so hard to recieve it? We either live in relationship with him or we don't. There have been moments when I have needed Him most that He is the only one who is there. His love overwhelms me and fills every hole that might have been there previously. These are not isolated instances. But we must be willing to recieve. It requires willingness. He does the rest. At least that has been my experience.

So I've had some flattering attention from my family lately. We had Christmas at Granddaddy's on Monday night. We had eaten dinner and opened gifts. We were all sitting around the living room when my Aunt Jean said, "Kelly (my father, tenor) sing 'O Holy Night.' " My dad said, "Becca should sing it, she's in voice for that. I'm not." So I did. I hurt my Uncle Rohn's ears! Oops, too big a sound for the space. (cringe) This led to a nice little group sing between my mom, dad, my cousin Abby, and I. I took the alto at that point and started creating harmonies.

Then tonight at Grammary's, Grammary asked me to sing "The Lord's Prayer" for our grace before the meal. My dad said, "Remember the space your singing in. You don't have to fill up the room." To which my Aunt Jean said, "I want her to fill up the room, when she fills it up she fills me up." That, my friends, brought tears to my eyes. That's my whole goal. That was the best Christmas present ever.

So this movie is not something that I ever thought that I'd fall in love with, but I have. Mostly for the following monologue by Nicholas Cage:

Loretta, I love you. Not like they tell you love is. And I didn’t know this either. Love don’t make things nice. It ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren’t here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us. We are here to ruin ourselves. And to break our hearts, and to love the wrong people. And die! I mean the story books are bullshit! Now I want you to come upstairs and get in my bed! Come on... Come on....

He is so passionate in this moment. He's a piece of work. But she's more than equal to him. She goes, of course. The whole movie takes place over the few days of a full moon. Not to mention the score of Puccini's La Boheme that forms an incredible back drop to this story. That music moves me everytime I hear it. It has some genuinely funny moments. Olympia Dukakis is fabulous as usual. Her husband is cheating on her and she knows. Anyway, this is how I'm spending my evening, and I've gotten to the scene where everyone starts being honest. I love it.

I sang tonight on a Christmas concert. It was a big night for me vocally. I'm finding my true voice. But more than that, I was unaware until tonight that all the donations taken up at the concert were going towards this organization. I have engaged recently in some arguments against Arkansas Initiative 1. I feel like it is a way to keep gay couples from adopting. I just think that if a couple is committed enough to want to take on the responsibility of raising a child, they should be allowed to do so. However I also saw another battle worth fighting in all of this. There are children out there who are stuck in the foster care system and are being abused and neglected. This organization is an advocate for those children. So I thought I'd spread the word. Gay marriage is a battle of conflicting ideologies. It is an important one, but there are people out there who are suffering, and I want more good people to be aware of where to contribute their time or money to help stop that suffering.

I overslept this morning. I set my alarm for 8:30 intending to get up, shower and warm up for a rehearsal for a Christmas concert with the orchestra at 10. I'm singing the solo on Jessye's Carol. I turned my alarm off instead of hitting snooze. I woke up at 9:57. That was a big "oh shit" moment. I threw on some clothes and a little make-up, brushed my hair and teeth and flew out the door, vocalizing the whole time. Luckily, the church is practically in my back yard. I was only 5 or 6 minutes late. The conductor calls for my solo as the second number to rehearse. Argh, I'm singing over brass in the fifth verse. But I did it. Had no real problems that were noticable to anyone else. (I knew that I wasn't managing my breath as well as I could have.) Hit the high B natural after being awake for about, oh, 20 minutes. I do believe my technique is getting solid. Damn. That is a good feeling. Something Pearl, my opera teacher from SMS, told me once echos in my head from time to time. She said, "You could be the greatest mezzo soprano in the country someday, but I don't know that. That's entirely up to you." I had no idea that she saw such potential in me. I certainly couldn't see it in myself. I think she saw a lot more than she often let on. BTW the concert is tomorrow night at 6 at FUMC. That's First United Methodist Church. I know I'm horrible at keeping people informed of my performances. You have to call the church office to get the tickets, but the tickets are free.

I have attended the Stone Soup Tango Festival for the past two years, but I didn't get to go this year so I'm living vicariously through these videos. Anyway, we usually do this thing called flash mob tango. We plan our festival for the first weekend of the month, because KC has an art walk the first weekend of every month. All the galleries open their doors and people converge on the Crossroads district. The tango dancers will disperse themselves through out the crowds in the galleries until someone (usually Korey) turns on a tango, and then we all find a partner and have a spontaneous dance party right there in the gallery much to the surprise of fellow onlookers. The music stops and we disperse again and disappear as mysteriously as we came. Then we go out into the street and cause this kind of mischief:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyODNSn97Zg
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This is a milonga. It is the happy version of tango for the lack of a better description. I'm on a tango watching kick. It brings me joy. This dance is purely improvised. They are having a conversation. He's leading and she is responding to him and the music. The steps are secondary to the connection between the partners. I once had a lead say to me, "There are no steps. There's only the music connecting you and me." Never will forget him. 

Also I'm singing in a quartet tonight, and I'm getting excited about it. I found out that the soprano can play some really good jazz piano. We played around with "The Christmas Song" today, and it completely made my day. I love spontaneous singing and dancing, it seems.

Well, the semester is almost over. Finally. I have one more final tomorrow, and I am looking forward to the break. I still have more singing to do. I perform tomorrow and on Sunday. That won't stop until Christmas, but the amount of rehearsal time will be drastically different. I am feeling a bit down actually, very deep and heavy. I feel weighted. Do I just need rest from all the stress? Maybe. Probably. Heh, yes. How does happiness work? The body has to be cared for, and the mind, and the emotions have to be allowed to be what they are. This body is tired, and this mind has been overwhelmed. And these emotions always are what they are. I need to laugh.

I did, however, get a hug from a seven year old today. That was awesome. Teresa is her name, and she is a little Guatemalan spit-fire. She's one of my students, and I get the hugest kick out of her. She's precocious and full of attitude. She offered to teach in my stead yesterday, and I seriously think that she believes that she could do it.

The students were wild tonight. I felt like I couldn't get anything done, and my patience was very thin. How in the world do you teach a child to think for themselves and to instill a discipline for learning? More than that to instill a desire to learn? Is money the only motivator that there is in this country? In this world? We use a system of tokens at Sylvan. The kids earn tokens and can purchase things in the Sylvan Store. I had a classic class clown at my table tonight and she used every method of distraction that she could think of to cover the fact that she couldn't do basic subtraction. She was funny. I couldn't reward her for this. She left my table only earning a dollar. I hope that I get another chance with her. She needs to be told that every kid at Sylvan has a gap in his or her knowledge somewhere. That it doesn't make her stupid. These kids think that they are stupid because they have somehow fallen through the cracks, and haven't aquired the kind of foundation that they need. And then there are those that say things that have a degree of insight beyond their years. They always make me stop and think. These kids amaze me.

Heh, I've always wondered about this. It's very interesting to have it in a number.

 Another piece just fell into place. Does this ever happen to anyone else? I went to church this morning. I walked because I live really close, but it was starting to rain, so I got a ride home with Dr. Kyriakos. Dr K (as I like to call her) is the newest addition to the ASU voice faculty. I started talking about my life decisions that I'm currently dealing with. I told her about Philadelphia and she said for me to let her know if I decided to go there. She knows a good voice teacher and has connections in that area. I came home and told my roommate. Kitty said that it was like the universe was saying, "go to Philadelphia, go to Philadelphia." I agreed. When the universe speaks, I usually listen. It hasn't steered me wrong yet. I've had this kind of guidance before. 

Last weekend, my friend Valerie came to Jonesboro to sing for the Messiah Sing. We were hanging out at my house the night before, when we got on the subject of future plans. We found out that we were both thinking about moving to Philadelphia. We got really excited and talked about living together. Her friend that she is moving up there with has already started looking for places. I’m hesitating. For many reasons. Sometimes, actually often, I feel like my path is walking me rather than the other way around. Philadelphia would be good in that I have some of the family that I am closest to there. The other “Craft” girls are there, my sister and my female first cousins, Andi and Abby who are more like sisters to me than cousins. There would be more opportunity to work as a musician in a place like that. It might also be easier to get serious voice students. I just wonder if I’m ready. I feel like my resume needs to be built. I feel like there is still so much that I need to learn. Perhaps that is what will happen. I certainly don’t expect for things to happen quickly career-wise. I don’t really want them to. 

 

I’m in Philadelphia right now, sitting in Andi’s living room watching James Bond with my sister and Abby on the couch next to me. We’ve just finished Thanksgiving dinner. I’m really enjoying myself. I know that living with Valerie won’t be like this. It’ll be fun and well, crazy and full of drama. I don’t mind the fun, but the drama might be a bit draining. 

 

On to Family news. My sister and her husband call the baby “The Shmoog.” I find this hysterical. Funny little sister thing. I asked my brother-in-law about the spelling of said nickname. He spelled it as above. I said, “what, no German spelling with a “c” ?(Schmoog) He said that he and Jo had that conversation. Ha! ....typical. Actually she hasn’t yielded the “c’”. This came from a satirical expression of terms of endearment aka Shmoogums. That was Joel’s doing of course. Now its just “The Schmoog” and a few derivatives. Hang on, I’m quoting my sister directly, “adjective form, Schmoogy, also can be used substantively [as a noun, for the non-language nerds]. Schmoogish which is the pure adjective form. Schmoogishly, the adverb. The verb form, to Schmoog. And his songs: my favorite is to the the tune “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt,” J Schmugenheimer Tobias. It doesn’t fit perfectly, but it’s funny. More songs: "Who is that Schmoogy in the Window" and "No Schmoogity."  

Okay so Mom, Dad, Abby and I have just rewritten Joel's version of the Jingleheimer song. Tobias Schmugenheimer Schmoog fits much better. 

 I'm in Philadelphia right now, and I was talking with my cousin and her husband tonight when she told me about this story that she had heard on NPR. I thought I'd repost it here. I just hope for more states' supreme courts to rule like this one did. 

 I just took a personality quiz, and it claims that I am no longer an INFP (as I was when I was 17), but am now an ENFP. The difference being the level of extroversion. According to the quiz, I'm pretty damn extroverted. Who knew? Well, I have had a few experiences that brought me out of my shell. And a few that drove me back in for awhile. Here are the details on my personality. Quite a few ring true for some of my more recent years, but the question in my mind is will they remain consistent over time. Probably not. I think that I will have differing levels of introversion and extroversion based on my experiences, and how I'm responding to them.