Riggy, I Can't See You!

Rigoletto was back at the Portland Opera for their final production of the ’08-’09 season. Or as some of us say, “welcome home, Riggy!” Why? Because returning to perform the title role was Mark Rucker who sang in the previous production of Rigoletto in 1998. I must say I was very proud to be a part of the opera chorus at that time and singing with one of the world’s premier Verdi Baritones is not something that another baritone takes lightly. In ’98 I was able to observe Mark in every aspect of his character integration with the show. I say ‘integration’ rather than ‘development’ because Mr. Rucker had performed the role countless times even then. I’m sure he’s got a few dozen more under his belt in the last 11 years. But watching him work behind the scenes was amazing from the first music rehearsal to just before the final curtain when he cries in agony over losing his precious daughter, Gilda. Well, cut 11 years and I’m now in the audience ready to enjoy Rigoletto from an audience perspective on a $20 ticket (thanks to PO’s new policy of “padding the house” on certain days and sections). One thing I will say about this new production is that it was not well lit. After performing a number of operas where the lighting designer throws lights from all angles from the rafters, downstage, and offstage left and right, (and becoming near blinded in the process) this show had minimal lighting. Unfortunately, the beautiful, multi-functional 2-level set was drenched in darkness, and all the wonderful colorful costumes were just so-so in the drisly trickle of illumination. So I say to the lighting designer, "may a thousand points of light sting your eyeballs so you can know what light looks like!" The sound, however, was astounding! Rucker…yo, what can I say? He’s da BOMB! But one thing that stood out this time around was the last scene. Remember in "Godfather III" when Michael Corleone is on the steps of the opera house after his daughter was shot, and he gave that looooong silent scream, then suddenly inhales and wails in dispair? Rucker's wail was like that. Chilling to the bone and heartbreaking. And Gilda, sung by Sarah Coburn, brought the house down with her “Caro nome”. I’m not usually a big fan of twittery coloraturas, but Coburn made me swoon. Peter Volpe was Sparafucile and if there ever was a bass that I want to be when I grow up, it is Mr. Volpe. My favorite memory of the show is in Act II when Sparafucile tells Riggy that he’ll be at the same place every night if he needs him, and walks offstage singing a low F – still resonating in the back of the house! Gotta love a great bass! But by far I am most proud of the men’s chorus. The men’s chorus in Riggy is tough. I mean machine gun, ratta-tat-tat type of patter singing that is not easy to coordinate with 20 men, a 40 piece orchestra, and a baton. But the men were DEAD SOLID PERFECT! I have never, even in recordings, heard the chorus so spot on. Brilliantly sung. Bravo, men! Now the season is closed and we look forward to yet another production of La Boheme in September. I think it’s the 4th time in 15 years that they’ve done this show. Hmmm…must be a moneymaker. I’ll be looking for my $20 tic for this as well.

Regarding CATS

The two lights of my life, Goonie and Bobo, were born into a musical and operatic family. Both their parents are professional stage performers. Their grandfather is a 35 yr retired drama teacher. They are bombarded on a daily basis with parental singing (sometimes yowling on a bad day), or musicals and opera on CD. They really have no choice but to appreciate and become singers themselves someday. Either that or truck drivers. They can sing along with The Wizard of Oz. They even know all the lyrics to “We’re Off To See The Wizard…”, although it took me well over 30 years to figure out that patter. One day I went to pick them up and they met me at the door all excitable about this “new” show that has a bunch of cats singing. They described how the cats live on a big trash heap and jump around the stage while singing about their curious 9 lives. “CATS?” I asked. “CATS is your new favorite musical?” “YES!” they squealed with glee. Now most everyone I know despises the musical CATS. It has no redeeming value as a musical other than hot dancers in colored tights and fur. They think that Sir Lloyd Webber’s music is simple and non-creative (read: it sucks), the plot is non-existent, and they could better spend their time doing three hours of sewer maintenance than watch this show. I’ve had the complete CD for 20 years, however, and a fan for even longer. I know what a Jellicle Cat is. So I joined in my daughters exuberant joy and promptly ripped and downloaded the CATS soundtrack onto my iPod. We listen to it every time we’re in my car together. We celebrate the mischief caused by Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, we hum along to the magic of Mr. Mistoffelees, and rock out with Rum Tum Tugger. We listen to it again. And again. and again……. I’m finding that this musical has no redeeming value without the hot dancers in colored tights and fur. I’m believing that Sir Lloyd Webber’s music is trivial and consists of clustered notes tossed together like a salad. And dammit! Where is the plot? I think I hate this musical.

Broken Chairs & Broken Platforms

Hell week. Day three. Dress rehearsal on top of another tech practice. Complete bedlam backstage and in the dressing rooms. "Where's my corset?" "Do I wear this on our head?" "Five minutes to places, everybody. Five minutes." "Five minutes? I don't even have my underwear on yet!" "Do these pants make me look fat?" "No, but you sure got a bad case of camel toe happening there, dude!" As you can see, the real entertainment happens backstage, people. You pay for the magic onstage, but the best seats are backstage where all the drama really happens. Tonight our rotating platform slipped its chain. Imagine a bicycle with a 24 foot diameter gear shifter. Imagine a chain that is inches thick wrapped around the gear powered by an electronic motor with at least 1/10th horsepower. With such unbridled power under our feet we spin at a sprinting speed, sometimes clockwise, sometimes counter-clockwise. We never know. It's always a surprise. Well, maybe not as fast as a sprint, but at least a bear crawl speed. Anyway, during a clockwise spin the platform chain slipped. Total breakdown. This needed to happen. You see, since it happened during tech we can reasonably be assured that it won't happen opening night. But hey, you poor suckers who purchased opening night tics for this Friday may be in for a treat! Also, will someone please tell the greenhorn that YOU DON'T SIT ON THE BREAKAWAY CHAIR! Especially after it's been placed onstage for the next scene. I must admit, that was one of the funniest foul-ups I ever did witness onstage. Thanks, Brian, for the good laugh.

Don't Touch My Heine

Four hours of tech. Four more hours of orchestra sitzprobe. Add on another two hours spent at church rehearsing and cantoring. I'm one pooped singer! Usually we singers prefer to only rehearse or perform no more than three -- maybe four -- hours tops per day. We're such delicate creatures. And we must preserve the voce so that we are able to access only the prime vocal quality at all times for our ever-adoring public. Yeah. Though the previous statements are based in truth, they certainly are far from reality. The exertion and energy expended today is tough on a singer, but it is something we must endure. And though we do prefer to be able to access our "top voice", the only time we hit the prime vocal quality is usually a moment in the shower or automobile or some other totally inaccessible location where no one hears us. The other 99% of the time we are struggling to sing through some sort of vocal malfunction. Samples of said vocal malfunctions can be caused by any of the following: 1. Waking up. Any singer who tries to vocalize right after their alarm clock shatters their slumber will find that portraying a sick frog is more likely be the only role available. I prefer not to even hum a note before noon. Mostly I'd rather not sing at all until after 3 pm. Ok, let's say I'd just as well sing around midnight. That's when the voice is probably warmed up best. 2. Alcohol. Sure, we singers like to drink the beers after a rehearsal or performance. But we pay dearly the next day when the post-alcohol dehydrated vocal chords go on strike. But again, when are we ever at peak performance anyway? Let's drink up -- and don't touch my Heine! 3. Breathing. Yes, simply breathing can knock the voice onto the disabled list. Dry air, moist air, dust, pollens, errant gnats that get sucked down one's throat. All these are detrimental. As I said, our poor voices are delicate instruments. 4. Having relations. You've heard that "sex weakens the knees!" But we don't need our knees! However, after an enjoyable lusty romp in the sack I find that my vocal range drops about an octave. Great for if I need to sing something out of the Russian basso-profondo repertoire, but usually I'm hired to sing something on or above the bass clef. So there it is. I'm pooped and ready for a full day off tomorrow for rest and rejuvenation. In that case, pass me that Heine! Prost!

Here Upon These Tiles We Will Build Our Barricade

Les Miserable opens in nine days. Yesterday we were warned that rehearsal may be extended since we had yet to block some of the smaller, yet very important scenes. The warning was blatant, but when we were requested to provide our own pillows and sleeping bags we knew they meant business. So we all trudged to the theater before rush hour was officially over and began setting up the scenes. One important scene is the opening of Act 2 where Enjolras informs his loyal followers that "here upon these stones we will build our barricade!" Dutifully, his loyal subjects run offstage and are supposed to return with a stack of books, or a box, or a marble - anything to add to the barricade. But as we did not have our set props to work with we practiced building our barricade using the only sacrificial objects we had - ourselves! Yes, actors can be so creative at times. At the end of the short scene, however, we remove the boxes and marbles and take them away as if to say, "ya know, let's build it down the street a spell." Using our one day off on Monday, the set builders successfully raised the stage with the turntable. This uses the same technology as the actual Broadway & tour shows. So after we became weary of piling onto a human pyramid in the rehearsal room, we moved onto the stage to practice some ballroom dancing on the rotating platform. Now I have danced in shows before. I have even waltzed and jitterbugged. But never have I done any movement while the stage rotates. Imagine yourself in a beautiful Viennese ballroom twirling and waltzing around the room in a race with 20 other couples. Then imagine the floor spinning to add double the speed. It's a bit nauseating and I'm sure during at least one performance the audience will enjoy a barf-fest during the wedding scene. And true to their warning, the director and stage management kept us late, threatening to thwap us with clipboards should we try to escape. So now I write this on my laptop on stage, snuggled in my sleeping bag using Wi-Fi to post to the blogosphere in hopes of hailing help from some local source in Portland. "Help! We're just poor actors being held captive in the theater until we 'get it right'! We need food! Substinance! Please bring donuts!" Maybe we'll 'get it right' Wednesday and will be allowed to go home to our own beds and loved ones. Pray for us...

My Baby's A First Grader

Today my oldest child, my firstborn, my baby, the Goon, is officially graduated into 1st grade. How can this happen? It seems like only yesterday my baby was 4 and visiting Disneyland for the first time. And only the day before she was 2 and on an Alaskan cruise. A year of Kindergarten has passed like the wind blowing the snow on Mt. Hood as I speak. (WAIT! -- did he say snow? In June!?!) Yes, I said snow. Record cold temps in Portland and low snow levels have extended the skiing season in to the summer. WTF!?! I split from Montana 13 years ago to get away from cold, freezing temps and snow. Now I'm smack in the middle of winter in JUNE! So all you freaks in the northeast having a heatwave, just bite me! And you know who else can bite me? The geniuses proclaiming the "Global Warming" effect. Yup, that's right...bite me with those cold, chattering teeth! Ok, ok, you might be figuring that I'm a little grumpy right now due to the weather. That may be so, but my grumpiness is offset by the joy of rehearsing Les Miserable. After six days of rehearsal we're nearly finished blocking the show. We open in 17 days so you can bet we'll be getting bi'dness done here this week. Our Jean Valjean is a veteran of the Les Mis stage, having previously toured the show. He sounds awesome! I'll disclose more about him later. Maybe tomorrow I'll show y'all my new 19th Century French student revolutionary sideburns.

At The End Of The Day

Joe Theissen, Wade Willis, and some of my other fellow cast members prepare for rehearsing, At The End Of The Day for Les Mis. Very busy first few days, and all we've got to show for it is the first 10 minutes of the show ready to go. I think I gushed a little in yesterday's post about how excited I am to be a part of this show. I remember seeing Les Mis for the first time in '92. It was a tour production performing at the 5th Avenue Theatre in Seattle. I was on tour myself doing a children's theatre show and my tour partner had a college friend singing Cosette in the show. She graciously came & talked to our kids, giving them a thrill at talking to a "real actress!" We saw the show that evening and afterward she gave us a backstage tour. I was only 22 and in awe of the size of the stage and set pieces. She proudly displayed her wedding dress costume for the final scene, revealing that it cost in the neighborhood of $10,000. We were also invited to the opening night gala with the cast of Les Mis in a nice lakeside restaurant in Seattle. I met the young Jean Valjean who I remember told me he was 25 or something close to that age. He was a fabulous Valjean and sounded great. I couldn't believe he was so young! I also met the Eponine (ooh la la!) who I think had a crush on me after a few drinks, but I never got her number. (Gah! I hate being shy!) I also remember Chuck Wagner, who played Inspector Javert. He was outstanding and remembered I wanted to meet this great baritone. However, he wasn't at the party. I did finally meet him after a performance of Jekyll & Hyde in Portland about six years ago. Still one of my favorite Broadway actors. Ok, so enough gushing already! Let's get to work and do this thing! Tomorrow we get to work on being poor beggars -- well, it's not just a clever title!

Do You Hear The People Sing?

After a few days of intense music rehearsal the cast of Les Miserable got on its feet tonight for the first staging rehearsal. This was such a wondrous occasion and personally exciting as I have loved this hit musical for over 20 years. It's been one of those "actor dreams" to be cast in this show in a professional theater so well managed and produced by Broadway Rose Theatre Co. At the helm of this production is Robert Hunt, who has been performing in Les Mis for years, and most recently as the principal character, Javert, on Broadway. Rob was here in Portland four years ago to perform the title role in Jekyll & Hyde, and it's great to have such a talented and experienced actor directing this show. I was privileged to be stabbed by the Jek on a nightly basis when we ran. (Isn't it every actor/actress's dream to be killed and die on stage?) By the way, if you look on his personal web site on the Photos page you will see photographs poasted of him rehearsing Jekyll here in Portland. The photographer? Yours truly. :-) It's an honor to have my creative work help promote Rob. The rights for Les Mis were released for regional theater for this year (2008) only, and only 24 contracts were issued for performance. Our Broadway Rose certainly displays its merit for being one of the few to obtain this precious permission. And almost 250 actors & singers came out of the Northwest woodworks to audition for this crowd fav. 31 were cast. Whoa! Dont' I feel lucky? (nods) So, my faithful readers, and those who happened upon my blog by strage and disgusting searches, I'll be blogging about this show for the next few weeks as we prepare for a four week run. Hope to see you at the show!

Brother Can You Spare a Dime – or The Unemployed Singer

Recently I’ve revised and updated my accounting resumé in order to try to acquire full time employment and I’ve noticed a distinguishing contrast with my performing resumé. Whereas a business resume (accountant, admin asst, etc.) likes to have little or no signs of unemployment or job skipping, a singer’s resumé works best when littered with numerous jobs and multiple companies. A sign of multiple unemployment is a positive sign that an actor/singer is in demand and has acquired years of experience with different roles and various composers. I’m proud of the multitude of roles and companies listed on my Curriculum Vitae, and am often saddened when I’ve acquired too many credits that some old work has to go. For instance, my first role ever in a musical was Mendel in Fiddler on the Roof performed for a small company in Montana. When the time came to see it drop from the list I took a moment of silence, then ordered another beer in celebration of more recent successes. So if you’re an unemployed performer don’t be gloomy. Put away that cardboard sign that says, “Will Sing For Food.” Keep auditioning and your next (and the next and the next, etc.) gig will add up to a healthy-looking resumé. Oh, by the way: WILL COUNT BEANS FOR FOOD! Gimme a call, eh?

You mean people actually read this crap?

I've been informed by certain power panty wearing blogger(s) that I haven't updated my personal blog in a while, and, under incontrovertible and irrefutable bodily harm I had, "better GODDAMN WRITE SOMETHING OR ELSE I'M COMING TO PORTLAND AND SUPERGLUEING YOUR FINGERTIPS TO THE KEYBOARD!" First, let me thank my limited and mostly likely disillusioned reader(s) for stopping by to check on me now and then. I am alive. I am breathing. And no, I have not been trotted off to jail for triggering a mass killing spree. (yet) I admit, I have for the last three or so months lifted an upturned nose at my keyboard as I saunter past thinking, "no one reads the crap I write." Coupled with a dose of lonely bachelor depression, and a corpulent and zaftig blue collar operatic daily schedule causing much exertion on my hoary bohemian body (not to mention the delicate voce), I have neglected my writing duties. In fact, I was quite thrilled and gratified to be singing full time and not have to count the proverbial beans for "The Man", at least for a partial year. Resultantly, I was away from my humble abode for about six of the last twelve weeks, touring the wide expanse of Oregon and SW Washington. That seemed a good enough excuse to avoid posting details of my vapid life, at least through my eyes. Now my contract of over. I'm home again. Permanently. Jobless. Now I have nothing else to keep me occupied so you're stuck with my pointless drivel and inconsequential scribble. WELCOME BACK, EVIL BARITONE!!! By the way...anyone need a good Bean Counter?

Those La Boheme Nights

Puccini has a way of getting under your skin, and invading your dreams. For the past few nights I have bolted wide awake with Act I of La Boheme going through my head. When singing Puccini one must count and listen like mad in order to hear a que and sing at the exact moment. This is not symmetrical form music like my beloved Mozart composed. Alas, Puccini liked to write rather unsymmetrical ensemble dialogue and arias in which he fancied lietmotifs and mood enticing scoring. in Act I of La Boheme Puccini introduces the four main guy characters, Marcello, Rudolpho, Colline, and Shaunard, all who are poor starving artists of some variety. The complain of the bitter cold and starvation until Shaunard enters with some money & food earned from a British Lord. The sound que's are tight and sometimes sycopated, or off-beat. Repitition, I find, is the best rehearsal regime. And thus, with so much repitition the subconscious just loves to take the opportunity during REM sleep to repeat those queues just one (or ten) more times. Yes, for the past week I have suffered an acute case of PPSD (Puccini Production Stress Disorder) and insomnia is my enemy. Almost to the minute I will wake up at 3:30 am with the lines of Puccini rolling past the scrollboard of my mind. When will it end? Hopefully soon 'cause we gotta get to learning how to deliver improvised opera next!

Benefits of learning new roles

Day 2 - Thursday Rehearse rehearse rehearse. 7 hours of staging and reviewing. Gotta get this little opera on it's feet ASAP! I have performed Boheme before as Schaunard in Italian. I have filled in last-minute for this project to perform Colline and Alcindoro in ENGLISH. It's certainly a different learning curve memorizing an opera in English that once was completely learned in Italian. Performing Colline is a bonus to me, I feel, because as a Bass-Baritone I get to utilize the nice low notes, and have yet another role under my belt for this popular show. Later we shall be performing a concert version of our La Boheme in Italian with orchestra, so having another role memorized in Italian is bonus.

New Year, New Life, New Project

Day 1 - Wednesday Here we are and here we go! Today I begin a new adventure as a member of Portland Opera To Go (or, affectionately labeled "POGO"). Met and gret the 5 other cast members of POGO's Boheme and proceeded to get down to business. We have a talented cast with varying experiences. The soaring music of Puccini resounded in the rehearsal studio. Ah, Puccini. A performing artist who is fortunate to listen to Puccini all day for a living is truly blest indeed. After a few hours of music rehearsal we spent a good 5 hours staging acts I and II on our portable and compact set. As a seasoned performing artist I can tell you that staging that many hours at once is exhausting. I went home and after a quiet meal I fell asleep by 8pm. An early night for me.

I Attended The Tale Of Sweeney Todd

First let me say I’m a purist. I don’t often enjoy “concept” theatre. Opera or musical. The last worst concept piece I walked out of was a Rambo gun toting, black shades wearing Julio Ceasare. For my pure heart, I enjoy a piece as it was written. But one must step back and separate the magic of theatre and the magic of cinema. First, Sweeney Todd does not work on the stage without the Greek chorus. The music is sublime and powerful and I WANT to hear about Sweeney’s pale skin and his odd eye. But, cinematic magic can sufficiently remove the need for a Greek chorus and move the plot and tell the story through images that are impossible for the stage. For that I will forgive Heir Burton the removal of that important part of Sondheim’s masterpiece. On the same level of purity, Sweeney should be a virile baritone, not a rock star tenor which is Johnny Depp, and Mrs. Lovett should be a frumpy older bug-eyed homely maid, not a hot chick with chiseled features like Helena Bonham Carter. But type casting aside, this movie works extremely well. The acting is superb in Tim Burton’s interpretation of the Demon Barber. Johnny Depp, though resembling a shade of Edward Scissorhands with his pale skin & wild hair, gives us the right amount of brooding and need for revenge. His temper is restrained but snaps at the right moments. We are provided a very satisfying climactic revenge with Judge Turpin, played hideously well by the master of brooders, Alan Rickman. There is hushed talk that Johnny is “too young” to be portraying Sweeney Todd. But as someone who recently sang the role myself I say he is not too young, but just the right age! Let’s analyze Sweeney’s proper age: Sweeney was a new father of 20-ish when we was whisked away to the prisons of Australia. He returns 15 years later when Johanna is 15 years of age and Sweeney would be proper to be 35-40 years old. The stereotypical grandfather image of Sweeney is, in my opinion, a wrong casting type and I applaud Burton for casting an age appropriate revengeful father. Bonham Carter shows us a simple but doting Mrs. Lovett. Her entrepreneurial spirit is enhanced by her biting wit and pushy A-Type personality. She has the biggest laugh in the show when Burton splits from his usual monochromatic palate of dirty London and jumps to a Technicolor world “Down By The Sea” with Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney dressed in vintage horizontal striped bathing suits strolling along a sunny seaside beach. Brilliant. Burton fills the secondary cast mostly of unknowns but stellar none the less. Toby, played and sung by they young Ed Sanders, is the epitome of a Dickensian orphan boy. Anthony, played by Jamie Campbell Bower, is an almost too young strapping sailor who looks more like a cabin boy than a deckhand. Pretty little Johanna is Jayne Wisener who is a perfect 15 year old ward of the state. Lucy/Begger Woman is Laura Michelle Kelly, who’s role was practically slashed for this movie. The Beadle is Timothy Spall who we remember as Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, in the Harry Potter series. Above all, Tim Burton paints a dirty 19th Century London with monochromatic black and white, which gives stark contrast to the blood red spilled liberally throughout the movie. The traditional Sondheim story is all there regardless of the cuts, and is stunningly shown in gory detail. Don’t bring the kids to this big screen masterpiece, soon to be a traditional holiday favorite! Big thumbs up and you can be sure I’ll be owning this one on DVD.

Plop Plop Fizz Fizz

Ok team, it’s two days before another op’nin of another show! You’re singing a very exposed 4-part harmony for a two hour show. You suddenly realize after the last rehearsal that DOH! you’ve caught a cough, a sniffle, Ich werde krank! What do you do? Do you punt and head for the sideline? NO! The show MUST go on! I’m about to start eight performances of a high energy, tight harmony, LET ME ENTERTAIN YOU holiday show. And what was a snot filled nose a few days ago has its crosshairs aimed straight for my throat & chest with “Bronchial Infection” flashing in neon. Only once have I completely lost my voice due to laryngitis, and it was for about five straight days when I was a cruise director and entertainer. Yeah, my job was to talk all day and sing at night and I could do neither. Bummer. Even my best remedies didn’t work then. But 98.4 out of 100 times these remedies work and I swear by them as a performer. Effective immediately I shall be doing the following: WATER WATER EVERYWHERE! Never stop drinking water. Always keep a bottle of water in your hand or in arms reach. Flush the body with water. Go pee. Then drink and flush some more. Water keeps you hydrated and is like a flash flood in your body clearing out the viral and bacterial debris. DRINK IT! AIRBORNE I’ve discovered this seemingly simple effervescent potion is a great metaphorical dam stopper. At the first sign of a sniffle or cough I start plopping these pellets at least twice a day. The sudden turbo boost of vitamins and herbs to the immune system usually knocks out an oncoming cold dead in it’s tracks, and in my belief is the cure for the common cold. And the best part? It tastes like Tang! One word of warning!!! Don’t repeat my mistake! Chewing and swallowing Airborne pellets is not recommended! Drop into a glass of water first! ECHINACEA My next favorite immunostimulator. C’mon, who doesn’t like to eat flowers? Echinacea is the purple power coneflower that fights off formidable infections. OPEN WIDE AND SAY AHHHHH This remedy may be a wives tale and sound more like a witches potion but, hey I’ll try anything to keep the vocal folds moving. Pour a tablespoonful of honey. On top of the golden yumminess sprinkle a liberal dose of Cayenne Pepper, also known to be in the Nightshade family. Count to three, then shove the spoon into your mouth upside down so the pepper coated honey runs off your tongue and down your throat. Helps soothe sore and scratchy throats. These are but a few of the witch’s brews I have in my pagan home remedy cabinet. I’ll save the best ones for the book I shall publish entitled, The Discordant Singers' Guide to Quick Fix Counteractive Herbal Elixir Solutions (or Double Trouble Croaky Singer Fuddle).

The Thespian Life

This is what a first stage rehearsal really looks like. We spend four weeks rehearsing music, dialogue, blocking, and hours of choreography in a crowded tool shop, then move suddenly into a real theatre with curtains and chairs and lights and everything. One can assume correctly that the spacing in a tool shop is quite a bit more cramped. So the first day on the stage set we all tend to stand around, look at the set, look at each other, look at where the audience will be (we want to be sure we can be seen at all times), then generally conclude that everything we did in a cramped toolshop has to be redone. So then we stand around looking at the director, who looks at the performers, who look back at the director, who yells, “quiet on the set!” because the set construction crew is still constructing the set as we stand on it, but the set construction crew ignores the director because the dudes really in charge are the set and lighting designers. So the director and performers mill around the stage in between the construction crew and the constant hammering, continually fearing for our lives as extremely heavy light trusses are dropped inches from our heads. We laugh, we joke, we comment that we wish the incessant hammering-sawing-drilling would cease, but to no avail. After a while we shrug our shoulders, agree that everything will work out, then go have a beer. I love the theatre!

Applause and the Blahs

How do you get motivated to do a performance on a day you wish not to be there? Happened to me on Wednesday. At 8:00 sharp the curtain rose for COLE, I looked at the audience, 600 pairs of eyes stared back at me, and I just could not find the motivation I needed to give them an uplifting performance. I was tired. I had low energy. My voice was being a pest and would not warm up. Not to mention the pesky distracting blister on my heel. So I switched to autopilot and after curtain call I felt I gave a robotic performance. Mid-weekday performance tend to be a little low energy anyway, and there are tricks for getting prepared and getting through an unmotivated performance. Was I so robotic that the audience did not enjoy? Not at all. I sang well, but realized my vocal limitations and know I can do better. I felt like lying down & taking a nap, but I danced my little dances with the obligatory wide smile. So how does one pull off a professional performance when none of the right elements are in one’s favor? Here are some tricks from the Evil Baritone bag: 1. Drink water. Constantly! Water is life. You must stay hydrated. Start drinking water at least 2-3 hours before the performance. Water is great for keeping the vocal folds from becoming inflamed and irritated. And the subtext of this statement is: a.) Avoid alcohol & caffeine. These dehydrate the body, working against your optimal performance mode. I failed to do both before the performance. I didn’t drink enough water & consumed coffee, soda and partook of the free beer provided at the summer company picnic. My performance suffered. Oh, and since you drank so much water, make sure there is a toilet close offstage – or just pick a pack of Depend underwear and simply get onstage and “just go”. 2. Stretch A few minutes of quiet meditation and stretching the poor, tired achy muscles will help prepare the body for it’s journey the next few hours. Of course this does nothing to help the aging and creaky joints of a weary thirty-something. I can usually be heard in the back of the stage bending my body and complaining that “I’m too old for this shit…” 3. Be prepared That means know your stuff! Inside & out! Your songs, arias, dialogue, character, whatever, need to be ingrained and rehearsed so that they flow freely from your mouth. Being completely able to immerse yourself into a natural performance is better than the stress of thinking, “oh, shit, what’s the next word/phrase/dance step?” When switching to autopilot this is essential. 4. Focus Number 3 above is no good without focus. Sometimes in situations when you are unmotivated on stage you need to focus even MORE! Focus on your next entrance. Focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Focus on keeping distractions at bay! Sometimes, as I did for a moment last night, I see an audience member wearing odd apparel such as a scarf, earmuffs and goggles. Distracting? You bet! But realize quickly that if you don’t drop it right away you are likely to make an embarassing slip in the lyrics to “Let’s Misbehave.” 5. Smile! Look at my face….I’m dancing! That’s a non-dancer’s mantra. I’m not a trained dancer. Never had a tap/jazz/ballet class in my life. But I move well and I have rhythm. But to keep an audience from realizing my lack of grace and an occasional moved caused by two left feet, a toothy smile is the best thing to let them know I’m having a great time, even if I’m unmotivated. If you’re having fun, the audience has fun. If you’re not having fun, let your professionalism take over and smile anyway. 6. The show MUST go on! Your fellow cast, tech crew, directors, designers, not to mention a paying audience all are depending on you to do your part. It’s a tremendous responsibility. Don’t blow it! Or you may end up never working for that company, or in that town, again. How’s THAT for motivation? Ok, be my guest to leave your tips & tricks for getting through an unmotivated performance. I’m too unmotivated to leave you with anything witty so I’m gonna have a beer & pass out on the recliner.

Don't Sing, this is a MUSICAL!

A quote and words of wisdom from our director, Sharon Maroney, while discussing a few final stylistic notes before opening night last Friday. After three weeks of intense music, staging and dance rehearsal Sharon imparted upon us before going onstage the importance of “showmanship” over musical quality when performing musical comedy numbers. Sharon is a brassy, loud and fabulous character performer and belter with years of New York stage experience. Mix in her deep Wisconsin dialect and scatterbrain train of thought, and she makes for one very amusing, confusing and diffusing director. But me? I’m too legit to quit. Ah, the fate of the classically trained singer. In fact, I think one Sharon’s quotes to me during a rehearsal of this charming Cole Porter musical review was, “you’re so goddamn TRAINED!” Thanks, Sharon. I’ll take that as a compliment! Besides, it was my “training” that had the audacity to interpret all those little black & white notes, rests & time signatures on the musical staves as music. Cole Porter wrote MUSIC along with the words, right. Cole tells a great story, and his clever word play and play on words make great songs. But my training instinctively informed me that Monsieur Porter added the music for a reason. So if I end up singing my way through this musical review, I’ll just say, My Training made me do it!!!

Who The Heck is Father Knickerbocker

And does he have anything to do with the stylish yet comfortable baggy knee trousers I’m wearing? The answer is…yes! Read on… In a little Cole Porter number I’ve been rehearsing for Broadway Rose (opening Friday for a limited engagement – seats are selling fast!) I sing the lyrics: “Due to landscape gardeners gifted, Father Knickerbocker’s face is being lifted.” The line is from Porter’s song, “Please Don’t Monkey With Broadway” written in 1940. Being the intellectual performer, and ingrained with that classical signer trick where I must know and understand every word and phrase I sing, I did some research. First I asked all five other cast members, director, choreographer, stage manager, costumer and two random schmucks passing by the theater on Durham Road, and got the following possible answers: A famous restaurant in N.Y. Inventor of Knickers http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knickers Owner of the NY Knicks #10 Walt Frasier of the Knicks A Manhattan hotel A statue in Central Park A grilled sandwich with ham and Gouda cheese on Dutch bread served with a Heineken. No. No. Nope. Wrong. Wrong again. Incorrect. Sounds delicious, but not the correct answer. BZZZZZZ!!!! Thank you all for playing. We have some lovely parting gifts. If you think that’s one of those had-to-be-there lines, you are probably right. Back in the 1809 Washington Irving, famous for this penning of Legend of Sleepy Hollow, wrote a fictional history of Manhattan describing the Dutch inhabitants of New Amsterdam. Irving wrote A History of New York as a fictional autobiography with the pseudonym of Diedrich Knickerbocker, a socialite and ‘descendent’ of the Dutch settlers. For years New York residents believed Irving’s historical Dutch tale as truth and began affectionately calling him “Father Knickerbocker”. They also began calling the short men’s trousers remnant of the Dutch style as Knickerbockers. 19th Century New Yorkers began referring to their city using the historical allegory of “Father Knickerbocker”. The name stuck for many years, even through the age of Cole Porter who used the term as simply an allusion to the city of New York much the same as it is today called the “Big Apple”. Now that you’ve had your history lesson for the day, please pass that hot ham & cheese sandwich, and don’t touch my Heine!

When It Rains It Pours

It seems a plethora of bad news has been trickling in regarding bad news of famous and well regarded opera singers such as Regine Crispin and Beverly Sills. Today I learned of another, Tenor Jerry Hadley, now on life support after an attempted suicide yesterday at age 55. Tenor jokes withstanding, Jerry was one of the few tenors I enjoyed listening to, with many of his CD's on my shelf. My favorite is the Famous Opera Duets sung with baritone, Thomas Hampson. "Au Fond du Temple Saint" from The Pearl Fishers strikes a deep chord within my operatic soul. It is simply beautiful music by Bizet and admirably performed by Hadley & Hampson with graceful phrasing and superb blend. Another CD, The Age of Bel Canto with the English Chamber Orchestra conducted by Richard Bonynge, shows Hadley's lyric tenor roots with favorite Romantic era composers Donizetti, Rossini, Delibes, and more. A demanding, yet grand and gorgeous collection of tenor arias. Get well, Jerry. You have many years of singing left.