Fatigue

My feet hurt so so much. Stupid high heels. I had to dress up today to sing in class. It felt good, though. I felt prepared and a bit more together than usual. It's nice because every once in a while I get these flashes of self-acknowledgment ... I'll have this moment where I go "Hey, I can sing...I'm not so bad...I belong here in a conservatory." Those are good days. Today was a good day. I love love love my repertoire teacher. He's amazing. He's sarcastic, biting, sometimes even cutting, but he's also brilliant and caring and sincere. Pretty awesome. I like laughing and being inspired while still keeping my feet on the ground. It's good times in his classes. I'm working with him one on one this year; this scares me but it's also kind of thrilling. I want to see what I can achieve with his help.
So now I'm reeling from a busy day and a horrendously long (and ridiculously taxing) train ride yesterday. Dear God. I was stuck with a fellow passenger who was more than annoying and had no concept of personal space or social graces. So my feet are tired and my brain is tired. I know, boo hoo, I live such a tortured existence, right? I have to sing in class and be nice to people on trains. Wow. Ha ha. It's just the business of living that makes us tired I guess. It's all normal perfectly reasonable stuff but it often knocks us off our feet and makes us totally fatigued.
Incidentally, I went home to see Ian McKellen in "King Lear." This was such an important production for me to see. I was all set to go to England to see it, but then they happily announced it was coming to the US. I felt like I was witnessing history. Somewhere, years from now, someone will ask me "What's the best performance of 'Lear' you've ever seen?" and I'll be able to say "I was present at Ian McKellen's performance" and there will be awe and admiration. Hee hee. Well at least this is how I envision it in my head. It's been said a million times but he's phenomenal. I so want that from my own performances; the sense that everything, every line, note, whatever, comes out of something real and necessary...not out of something on a piece of paper. Sir Ian never reads Shakespeare off a page, you know? You get the sense that he's internalized it to the point that its second nature, so organically a part of him and his character. I'm sure this has been said about all great actors and one point or another, but it's no less true. The research and the understanding has to be there, but there also has to be passion and intention. That was the topic of my lecture in class today. Must....be....more...passionate. Too academic, Len. Start feeling in your music as well as in your life.
I never much liked "King Lear" it always seemed so sad an unnecessary to me. As a daughter who loves her father I always have such trouble with that play. The relationship between the father and his daughters is so dysfunctional and indicates such a lack of communication that makes no sense to my 20th/21st century mind. And yet, there it was, real and heartbreaking and fabulous. I love drama...I love the gamut of emotions it takes us through. Sir Ian's "Come, let's away to prison" speech was so beautiful. It was one of those moments that makes you believe that love between two people (filial, romantic, platonic, whatever) is enough in the face of anything. So lesson #2: The love is enough. The love is enough and the music is enough. Astoundingly simple. I'm really a deep thinker, aren't I?
So yes, Ian McKellen is my God. He and Helen Mirren, Judi Dench, Lindsay Duncan, Renee Fleming, Olga Borodina, Frederica von Stade, Dmirti Hvorostovsky, Ramon Vargas, and the incomparable Luciano look down from my own personal Mt. Olypmus.