La Vie, Day 53
A friend of mine told me today about a director who expressed his concern about her blog, believing that posts of a more personal nature might prevent her from getting hired for gigs. I agree one must tread a fine line and not do anything to compromise her career such as air grievances, spread gossip, or badmouth directors, colleagues, and conductors with whom she might want to work; however, I also believe in the importance of journalistic integrity when posting reviews and, in many cases, in the benefits of having a controlled setting with which to let people see the person beyond the performer’s facade. Over the last several weeks, many of my friends and contacts have taken the time to tell me about specific ways in which my blog and new lifestyle have inspired them. Believe me, that both shocks and delights me to no end. Literally to the point of almost falling out of my chair, I laughed out loud when my good friend today called me a “go-getter.”
After today’s rehearsal for Scenes from Goethe’s Faust, I clumsily traveled rather unsuccessfully to Brooklyn, certainly using up any ounce of bad subway karma I might have previously acquired. Finally arriving at Leat Klingman‘s apartment and art studio, I rested in the space of a person who knows me well, opens her soul to me in friendship, and assumes the best from me and others. By opening up her home and studio to allow me to help her with her art of puppetry, she gave me the gift of a new experience and an unexpected new acquaintance. Her friend Heather, a sculptor, also provided some incredibly thought-provoking conversation and the prospect of some fascinatingly fresh artistic experiences, such as attending an iron pour with her in the city in the future.
During our time in the studio, Leat, Heather and I discussed the struggle involved in understanding others and helping others to understand us at least as much as art and music and languages, all of which we value immensely. Later at tonight’s Obliterati party, I saw some friendly faces and met great new acquaintances with whom I connected regardless of their profession. On my way to Sweet and Vicious for the Obliterati get-together, I didn’t think about those friends and as yet strangers; rather, I thought about the likelihood of seeing my most recent ex-boyfriend for the first time since our breakup and walked surprisingly slowly to the door.
Because he couldn’t attend the party, I didn’t have the first friendly meeting for which I’d both hoped and dreaded to begin the real work of closure for me. Thankfully, my friends empathized with my occasional distraction and as I slowly changed my introductory title of “opera singer” to “classical singer and blogger” for this party, I felt less like a misunderstood commodity and more like a human being to meet and with whom to connect. Yes, I work for the Metropolitan Opera and daily thank God for that. Yes, I have sung with and continue to perform with incredible directors and conductors both chorally and as a soloist and actor. When I cried with my dear friend tonight at La Crêpe Parisienne about my recent loss, none of that mattered to the stranger who made me a free mini crepe and delivered it to the table for my consolation. I thought about what truly matters on my way home tonight and realized that as much talent and intelligence as I have, I want people to know remember me for my essence and heart too. Then, I held the door for a stranger with her bike who smiled back at me. Entering the same building a block and a half later, I smiled back at the neighbor I have yet to meet and had no doubt about what really matters.
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