It's Real?

Sometimes I have wondered why I work so much doing something that doesn't always come easily to me. Singing is fun...sometimes. Other times it's exhausting and every time I have to relearn something because it's gotten out of place, I wonder what I'm doing. Being in Salzburg, taking lessons twice a week, I can already see that I've learned a lot. As all of my voice instructors would tell you, I have a bit of a mental problem; my mind gets in the way of my voice. I've been standing on one leg while I sing this past week, and I wish it were appropriate to perform that way - it adds strength to my voice by engaging muscles in my abdomen. I've been bouncing on my toes and inhaling deep breaths upside down before singing. Crazy stuff.

But after every lesson I feel invigorated, not down. I know I have a lot to work on. It's not the work that scares me, it's the fear that, despite all that work, it will not be enough. I don't mind working, it's just failing that's difficult.

The other night we took a tour of the Fortress and wandered around the city. We were going to grab some dinner, but I heard loud, dramatic voices drifting through the air. There is a huge projector set up for the festival, and every day they broadcast performances that are going on indoors for free. On the screen I saw Diana Damrau dressed in a huge green outfit, and I knew she was Queen of the Night, the evil queen in Mozart's "Magic Flute." I couldn't believe it was her, that she was here in Salzburg performing as I stood outside and watched. And I knew it was coming - the famous Queen of the Night aria in the second act. We stood and waited, some of us knowing what was coming and others wondering why we were taking the time to listen. And then she opened her mouth and the words flew out. I've listened to this song a hundred times, whether on youtube with friends, on a cd, or in class. And even though it was on a screen, I knew Diana was in there, singing right then, and I remembered why I do this. Sometimes at school I have felt there's no point to this. No one actually performs these operas. No one goes to them. It's like a fairy world that we study because it happened once, but it has no relevance today. Yet here in front of me was someone who had studied for years and years, who had been given a gift, and who now was performing in front of a packed house. So it's real. There is something so powerful about the voice; all of that sound was coming OUT OF HER BODY. It was all her. And it was theatrical and strong, and as I watched I felt overwhelmed by her artistry and by the beauty of music. I felt it in my body, and, not too surprisingly, I started crying. I couldn't help it. I will never be Queen of the Night, but that doesn't mean I can't have a part in the history of music.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvuKxL4LOqc

Take a listen - even the lines are amazing.