I know that the lexicon is filled with terms that detail the grandiose ego of a soprano: prima donna, diva, starlet, b%$#!, etc. However, I must admit, I haven't encountered many in the real world. To me, they are creatures of legend. I don't deny they exist, I just question the truth behind the description. What I do find, however, is sopranos (and most singers) to be quite hard on themselves. And the bigger the role, the bigger the fear (I know I have insulted Zerlina before--and my apologies since I do love the gal-- but seriously, I am 50% fearful of her, 60% fearful of Susanna, 70% fearful of Gilda, and 80% fearful of Violetta, 90% fearful of Lucia....). Insecurity abounds in us, and thus, certain behaviors follow which may make it appear that an ego is large, when in fact, it is an indication to the contrary. We have two main things stacked against us: 1) the expectation of perfection 2) the fact that our body is our instrument. Thus, as compared to other instrumentalists where the actual instrument remains a constant, the added 'body-as-instrument' factor adds, in my opinion, an exponential increase in potential to flub. Didn't sleep last night? Hormones out of whack? Ate too much weiner schnitzel? Sat next to that guy chain smoking Marlboros? Those factors affect BOTH a singer's ability to play AND the instrument itself. Yet, standards remain virtually analogous to instrumentalists in terms of production-perfection. (Okay, instrumentalists, I do know you have bones to pick from bad memories of singers in music theory class, but don't let those disasters speak for all of us. Some of us were instrumentalists first...mine was piano. There. I said it. But even though I can sightread Bartok at the piano, doesn't mean that I can necessarily get my note in a complicated ensemble on the first read. We are human...And on the piano, I can SEE what note to hit (;). And there it goes. Insecurity. Justifying. Apologizing. Telling people: "really, I know how to read music" or "jeez, I got this section perfectly at home"  or  "please, don't smoke next to me, I have to sing tomorrow" or "waiter, I asked THREE times for water now WHERE IS IT???". Diva? No. Just an insecure singer needing to take care of their instrument. And their fragile ego. (;

So last night we had our third and last musical rehearsal. It was to touch on some of the things we missed. There were some of the familiar duets, arias, etc. as well as what I call the 'seams'. I find it ironic that in many operas, the familiar tunes that everyone remembers are in fact the easiest to both learn and perform. It is the transitions, the in-between parts of rapid fire action and dialogue that are a bear. Recitative in any opera can be a challenge, and in Verdi, with its mix of need for accuracy, poignancy, emotion, complexity, yet set in sometimes a not-so-obvious harmonic way make them a challenge to learn (okay, the recurring C's are the exception...we can ride on those (:). To serve my own ego, I shall justify it to say I learned them on my own, out of context successfully. As I said in my earlier blog, I don't rely on recordings to learn a role, and even though I have heard Traviata countless times, those 'seams' are not what stick in my mind, nonetheless accurately. But I thought I had practiced them well enough to enter the rehearsal with confidence. And of course, as Violetta, I believe expectations are higher. People assume you will have it nailed. Just think of sopranos who would love to do this...who have sat for years learning the role just for this moment. Okay. Don't say it. Don't think it. I know I am lucky...(;

But in one fell swoop: a missed entrance here, a wrong note there (come on, Heidi! Germont JUST sang that b-flat, what is SO hard???), the confidence tanks. Apologies abound (I think I counted 20 'sorrys' on my recording of the rehearsal). I felt like I knew nothing. I was beaten. And tired. True, I had a long day, less sleep than usual (toddlers like to creep up in the middle of the night these days), so alas, my instrument AND mind just were not up to task. I went to bed frustrated. Fearful. Worried.

Today, as I listened to the recording of the session, I, in fact, heard things in a much better light. In truth, I didn't do so badly, and in fact, there were some very nice moments. I had to be thankful that this early in the game, it was in good shape. No more mea culpas.

The seams seemed okay after all.