Talking interspersed with some singing

Yesterday, I was on the phone with my best friend Georgia at about 5:30 in the afternoon, and we had been chatting for awhile about what we had been up to that day before I casually mentioned, "You, know, I should probably think about warming up soon because I have to leave for an orchestra rehearsal in like 40 minutes." She laughed and said something about how relaxed I had been on this gig about singing, and how I had been focused on a lot of other stuff - like eating and making videos. And it's true - I have been having a very entertaining time here in Portland, and haven't been feeling a lot of stress. I don't want to say this out loud for fear of superstitiously jinxing myself, but I will anyway; All the problems I had been having with Rosina in the past seem to be finished. I haven't had one cack or blip in rehearsal that has caused me to worry, plus I've come to a place of acceptance with myself that acknowledges that even if every note isn't as perfect as I want it to be, I can still accept the contents of the whole with much more peace and serenity than before. And I know for a fact that this attitude serves me well, because when I am relaxed and not all uptight about every note, I sing MUCH better. So, I guess it's safe to say that Portland agrees with me.

On Wednesday, I had a day off from rehearsal, but I managed to sneak in a coaching of The Golden Ticket, which seems to be coming along. It's one of those scores that sounds very accessible to the person listening to it, but it has a lot of tricky rhythmic sections, where the time signature goes from 5/8 to 12/8 and then suddenly is in like 245/872 or something. But I feel confident that I will be ready for the first rehearsal on May 17th. After my coaching, I participated as a panelist in the OperaNow! podcast, which streamed live, so I was inordinately nervous for the first 15 minutes we were podcasting. I have heard myself in certain live interviews, and I always think I either sound super hyper, or like I'm stoned because I'm trying too hard not to sound hyper. But I listened to the podcast, since it has now been posted on the OperaNow! website (it's the most recent - #105) and on itunes, and I wasn't too horrified by myself. And I was very impressed with Oliver and Michael, the hosts. They manage to be both hilarious and informative, and I think their take on opera does a lot to demystify it, and get rid of the typical stuffiness. In the last 30 minutes of the podcast, we talked a lot about regional American opera, (as the result of discussing this article in the Orange County register about the demise of Opera Pacific), a topic I think we should all be considering for the future of the art form in this country. If you listen to the podcast, please leave reviews for them on itunes, because it helps them to get the word out, and what they're doing is unique and important - we need MORE stuff like this to keep opera alive and kicking.

And now, for some rehearsal photos that I took during one of our last rehearsals before we went to the stage. Except the photo of me, which is courtesy of my darling Count Almaviva, Nick Phan. The photos, from top to bottom are; Chris Mattaliano, (the director) Steven Condy and Arthur Woodley (Bartolo and Basilio), Daniel Belcher and Nick Phan (Figaro and Almaviva), Nick, Danny, me, Danny.

Eating our way through Portland

As I might have mentioned before, most opera singers I know are slightly obsessed with food. I don't mean that as a euphemism suggesting that we're all overweight (as many people erroneously assume), but we do seem to have a healthy relationship with the appreciation of great food. And Portland is a fantastic town in which to find yourself if you happen to be a foodie, because not only do they have a lot of really great restaurants, but they have several food traditions which have developed, and which seem to be unique to Portland. The first tradition, which my colleagues and I have become slightly obsessed with is "Happy Hour", where almost every single fabulous restaurant has a deeply discounted menu (ranging from Burgers to Foie Gras) which they serve every evening for a few hours. My colleagues have been joking that I treat my Happy Hour guidebook like the bible, scouring it at every opportunity I get in order to find a fantastic new place to try.

So, Nick Phan, Danny Belcher and I were pleased as punch when the PR department at the opera suggested that we meet up with a prominent Portland food blogger named Brett Burmeister at the famous Portland Food Carts for a lovely lunch. Brett has a website; www.foodcartsportland.com devoted completely to this unique Portland phenomenon of small, portable trailers that serve fresh, fast, well made foods from around the world. I'm not sure how this began, but it has become a very important and interesting facet of Portland's food landscape, and one in which we were happy to partake. And I couldn't help it, I had to video Danny, Nick, and I gorging ourselves on Portland's finest offerings. Huge Thanks go out to the Portland Opera for suggesting and sponsoring this fabulous outing for us, to my friends Nick and Danny for always being patient AND funny in all my videos, and to Brett for showing us the ropes. Go Portland!!!



And on a completely unrelated note, I'm happy to announce that tomorrow evening, at 8:30 PM Eastern Standard Time, I will be a guest on the OperaNow! Podcast, which will stream live via the OperaNow! website (see link above) at that hour (7:30 Central and 5:30 Pacific), and will be available via itunes and on the OperaNow! website the following day. If you've never listened to the podcast, Michael Rice, Oliver Camacho, and various guests (tomorrow night will be myself and Matthew Garrett) discuss the news of the week in the world of opera. Michael has sent me the stories we'll be discussing, and I'm already excited to talk about what's happening this week in the wild and cuh-razy world of Opera. So check it out!

Bust-ed

It happens to me at least once during every Barber of Seville production. By the second week or so, we get to staging the second Act, when Rosina and the Count start all their canoodling. It usually begins in the lesson scene, followed by even more hanky panky in the quintet, trio, and finale. By the time we get to these rehearsals, I've usually gotten to know my leading man a little bit, (if we didn't already know each other) and we've probably already staged a moment or two where we have to be kissing or at least hugging, so we've gotten comfortable with each other. Add to that the fact that I am a total goof-off (a "just one of the guys" tomboy) who likes to make jokes, and by the time we reach the end of my second act aria, both the tenor and I have finished with all of our significant singing, and are relaxed. Plus, the director usually has to spend a good long time with Bartolo and Figaro doing the shaving scene, and the Count and I are usually over at the Harpsichord, with the direction that we're supposed to be flirting with one another, so we inevitably start chatting.

And without fail, we totally get busted by the director for being disruptive in rehearsal, like two school kids who get caught goofing off in class. Either we get caught up in a conversation (at Opera Pacific, the tenor Brian and I were really into talking about food production in America and self sustaining farming, and Scott the director was always having to clap his hands and mutter, "stay with me people"), or more likely, I get the tenor into trouble because I try to make him laugh. Tonight at rehearsal, the director very gently made the universal symbol for two people who are yapping - his two hands in the air, talking to each other - and gave us a smile that said, "kindly focus on the task at hand, you two." I whispered to Nick, "BUSTED! This happens to me every Barber. I'm sorry! It's totally my fault."

I can't help it. I'm a goofball. My excuse is that I need to bond with the tenor so we can have good chemistry for the opera, but the truth is that I'm super chatty AND I really like to horse around. I am very rarely disruptive enough so that the director gives me the stink eye, but somehow with Barber, I always seem to get really goofy by the time we get to the second act. I think it's because Barber is such a comedy, and everybody gets used to being funny, so the jokes just start taking on a life of their own. I really think I would be happy as some kind of slapstick comedian doing Three Stooges skits all day, every day.

I don't want to paint myself as one of those people who doesn't take rehearsal seriously - that's definitely not the case. As I've written about in previous blog entries, I adore rehearsing, and find it totally stimulating and fun. Just sometimes, I find it a little too much fun. And while the director might shush us a little bit, he or she is usually not terribly annoyed, because they know that if a spirit of fun permeates rehearsals, it will make its way into the comedy, infusing it with that extra element of joy that brings all the jokes to life. So when Chris told us to quit yapping today, he did it with a smile that said, "I love you two, just shut up your mouths for a little second, would ya?"

So we did. But we learned a valuable lesson. The next time we feel the need to yap during rehearsal, we'll be smart enough to stand near Danny, the Figaro, so we can blame him.

Open mouth, insert foot

In the last couple of days, I've been having fun with my colleagues discussing the very worst thing anybody has ever said to us after a performance. Things like, "Wow! That sure sounded DIFFICULT!" or "It was great - but why didn't you hold the notes longer?" But I really feel like I have the best story about this, which I will share with you all now.

I was performing the title role in La Cenerentola (Cinderella) - a role I've done many times. Cenerentola is a really demanding role for the mezzo, and ends with a huge tour de force aria with enough high notes, low notes, and coloratura to fill a large truck. It is probably the most demanding role I sing, and after a performance, I'm usually pretty exhausted. I was at the after party of the opening for one of the many Cenerentolas I've sung, greeting the public and the donors from the company. I was flanked by my mom, who had flown in for the performance, and I was feeling pretty happy with how everything had gone. People were coming up to me one by one to congratulate me, to say brava, to wish me well. I was shaking hands and smiling at everyone, so when a wealthy looking blonde lady approached me, I turned to her, smiling, expecting a similar exchange to the ones I'd been having so far with various audience members.

So imagine my surprise when she approached me and loudly exclaimed, "What size SHOE do you WEAR???" (I should take a moment here to explain that in the opera version of Cenerentola, Cinderella leaves one of her bracelets behind, not a glass slipper, which is how the Prince eventually finds her. But in some productions, the words are changed so that she can leave behind a glass slipper instead, like the fairy tale people are used to. This was a glass slipper production). "Excuse me?" I asked the woman. "What size SHOE do you WEAR???" she asked again "Because those glass slippers looked ENORMOUS!!!! "Startled, I replied, "Um... nine?" "WOW!" she exclaimed, "I would have guessed at least ELEVEN!! Those shoes looked gigantic!!!"

My mom, standing behind me, felt the need to intercede, pointing out, "Well, she is 5'9" - her feet are actually pretty normal for her height." But the lady wasn't getting the hint. "Well. They looked Hewwwwww-MONGOUS. Good job though, honey!" and with that she was off.

Wow. I felt like I had been run over by a tractor. I had just finished the most difficult role in my repertoire, and I certainly didn't expect everyone to praise me, but I also didn't expect them to comment on my (apparently) outrageously oversized feet. Before her arrival I was wondering if all my high notes were even and brilliant. After she walked away, I was wondering whether I should consider having some of my toes removed.

Of course, I laugh about it now. In fact, I'm always really pleased to have that story to pull out when exchanging "war stories" with colleagues. But seriously? How big are your FEET? Wow. I almost wouldn't believe it if it hadn't happened to me. But you know what they say about girls with big feet...... big high notes. Thanks a lot lady - first you criticize my shoe size, then you force me to make horrible jokes. A curse upon your feet; May the shoe stores always be out of your size.

The power of music (and possibly rain)

Well, today was a rather weird day. Everyone is blaming the weather here in Portland, which went from gorgeous over the last week to cold, windy and rainy today.

I woke up feeling exhausted and as if the hotel bed was suddenly nothing more than a piece of plywood covered with a scratchy sheet. When Danny drove me to rehearsal, we were exiting the bridge that takes us across the river, when a driver in an SUV started pulling onto the bridge on the wrong side of the rode, and heading straight towards us, IN OUR LANE! Luckily Danny laid on the horn and the SUV swerved into the correct lane just in time, avoiding a head on collision. That was enough to wake me up. But apparently not enough to improve my motor skills, because soon after arriving at rehearsal, I managed to knock my reusable plastic water bottle (that the lovely, environmentally conscious, Portland Opera was so kind to provide for all of us) onto the floor, shattering it in a million pieces and drenching the newly swept floor with water and mezzo spit. Later, I was acting the hell out of a scene with Bartolo, when I threw my embroidery prop onto the chaise and snapped it into not two, but three pieces, causing yet another headache for the same stage manager who was forced to clean up my earlier water spill. Not to mention the fact that I forgot a lot of my blocking during today's rehearsal, which almost never happens to me. Some people were blaming it on the change in weather - I was almost hoping that somebody had slipped a roofie into my drink last night and I was still stoned today or something. At least that would explain my forgetting the blocking- the klutzy part isn't such a huge surprise for someone who can fall while walking UP stairs.

But all that aside, I did manage to have one coherent thought in the last day or so regarding how music affects people. All these wacky videos I've been making have been a lot of fun, but they've also been surprisingly educational. I would put all the scenes in an order, and cut and paste a few moments from here or there in a way that I thought would be humorous. Then I would watch the whole thing and giggle a bit at everyone's antics. Then I would overlay the Barbiere overture onto the movie, and suddenly everything everyone was saying would become totally hilarious. As a person would finish a joke, the strings and winds would crescendo as the laughter in the room would explode, and the music would serve as punctuation, increasing the effectiveness of the moment. Now, I'm talking about a dinky little homemade film I made in an hour, but it got me thinking about why Opera is such an appealing art form. Yes, watching a play can be hilarious or heart wrenching, but if you add music (good music - let's not get carried away) the emotional moment can take on an even deeper meaning. I was watching a tv commercial for the Humane Society this morning, and they were showing video stills of shelter dogs that needed homes. Heart-breaking enough on its own, sure - but with an added soundtrack of Barber's Adagio for Strings, I was about ready to cry my mascara off. None of this is news to me, of course, but it was interesting for me to discover it from a new perspective - that of "film-maker" (HA!).

Well, I guess I'd better tuck myself into bed now, to avoid any other accidents or incidents (I didn't even mention the red-light-running incident that just occurred in the car I rode home in), and hope tomorrow is a more coherent day. Or at least a day in which I don't break anything. That'd be an improvement.

Barber in 10 (take 2)

Hee hee! I was so happy with how my last video of people summarizing the plot of Barber in less than ten seconds turned out, I had to make another one with the rest of the cast. Just fyi - I never said "summarize Barber from your character's perspective" but that's what nearly everyone (myself included) ended up doing. Some for comic effect, or course, although I just talked about how and why everybody loves me. Typical only child. Enjoy!

Working hard or hardly working?

I think that's a question a lot of you might be asking me based on watching my last few videos. After I posted the video of our 10 second Barber summary on facebook, I got a comment from the wife of my Figaro, Danny (who herself is a director) that said "I think you guys need to rehearse more." and another comment from a fellow singer friend that said, "That was the worst Barber synopsis ever. You should have titled it "Hanging out in Portland and Drinking Beer." Even though they were both totally kidding around with me, they were of course, both somewhat right.

But in spite of what you might be lead to believe based on my new obsession with making videos, we have been rehearsing here in Portland as well. And after watching a work-through of part of the first act yesterday, I was struck by the realization that I don't think I will ever tire of doing this opera, because the possibilities for finding new elements are endless. I worked with Chris Mattaliano, the director, during my days at Juilliard as an acting coach, but I've never really been in a show he directed, except in the chorus when I was like 2 years old at Music Academy (and too young to appreciate it). As I was watching what everybody was doing yesterday, I was amazed at the fact that while he has been encouraging this very experienced cast to focus more on the text and the relationships between the characters rather than the traditional schticky jokes we've all become accustomed to, there is still so much humor to be found in this piece. But the humor is found in different pockets of the text that I haven't seen used before in quite that way. I have never before seen Basilio's "La Calunnia" performed while he and Bartolo are sitting down to a very polite tea service, but it's totally hilarious. I'm used to seeing Basilio careening around the stage with an umbrella or something, but watching him just sit there and deliver the text of the aria while politely stirring his tea cup was making me giggle uncontrollably. And the same is true for my aria "Una voce poco fa" - I have always written the letter during the musical interlude at the end of the first section, but in this version, Chris suggested a new and unique way for me to compose the letter that incorporates all my fioratura and ornaments into its creation. It's like a whole new aria for me - no small feat for an aria I've sung literally hundreds of times.

So yes, we are certainly enjoying all Portland has to offer, and I am really thrilled that I have some partners in crime to goof off and drink beer with, but it's not like we haven't done anything productive. Although the Figaro, who happens to have the day off today, called me in the morning to sarcastically wish me "a pleasant day of rehearsals" while he has a lovely time driving himself to the waterfalls. I replied "F$#@ you, and may you have a pleasant day yourself" and hung up on him. But it's okay, I can always take revenge on him by choosing an exorbitantly fast tempo for our duet since I'm the first one to sing. Watch yourself Figs. That's all I'm saying.

Barber in 10 seconds or less

A film by Jenny Rivera

My life (the reality series)

If I made a reality series about my own life, it might look something like this:



I really have to say gracias to my two co-stars who are being really good sports about becoming characters in "Jenny the opera singer, a reality show". Daniel Belcher doesn't have a website that I can link to, but Nicholas Phan does - and a blog. Thanks guys.

Video Blogging, here I come

This is my first attempt at a video blog, which I thought would be a fun change of pace. My buddy Danny Belcher sang the National Anthem at the Portland Blazer's NBA game tonight in front of like 20,000 people, and I thought it would be a good event to record for posterity. Here ya go:



Obviously I'm still pretty new at using the camera, and editing, but hopefully I will improve.

Special thanks to Chris Mattaliano at Portland Opera for bringing us to the game, and to my new buddies RJ and Curt from La Shaque de la Radio (that's Radio Shack if you're not fluent in French) for helping me figure out which camera I wanted to buy for this new endeavor. Peace OUT!