Tuesday Chapter Two

Sometimes, you just don't want to walk up the stairs.
Like when it's 11.30, you're tired and have to pee, haven't really had dinner, and there are seven flights of them.
You'll all be proud to know I did it! I used my feet for the entire day, and when I needed to get somewhere fast (work), I jumped on the subway.
For this week, that's fine. But I think I wouldn't choose this particular issue to be militant about. Sometimes, it's OK to take the elevator, you know? But I stand firm on gas-guzzlers.

I saw a concert tonight -- a great little Baroque orchestra that reminded me a lot of Tafel -- the 5 euro ticket reminded me of them too -- and 3 singers, performing the two cantatas that Handel wrote in Italian. It was a long concert, about 2.5 hours, but it was really well-played. It took place in the Conservatory's massive Verdi Hall, which puts VKH and Walter Hall to shame, but not Roy Thomson -- it is acoustically excellent but a bit less comfortable than RTH, and smaller, of course. It might seat about 700. It's actually a really nice hall and I have enjoyed everything I've seen there, as the sound is always great and I am always able to find a seat with an excellent view.
Anyway, the three singers -- it was interesting to hear some very dark voices singing repertoire that we normally relegate in our singer-brains to light voices without the power to cut a bigger orchestra. Well, these voices were dark, but definitely rough around the edges and though they were all excellent artists, there were some technical problems with each of them. Isn't it funny? If you can't sing opera, sing Baroque. What a shame, that this mindset/stigma/whatever exists, however subconsciously, in singers' minds. I think this is especially true in Italy, where large, rich voices are prized.
Though the concert ran long, I enjoyed it. It was conducted from the clavicembalo and the violinists and winds stood; I think the energy this brings makes for a more intimate, engaging performance for the audience, not to mention the performers.
If you don't know Tafelmusik, you should... take a second and check them out.

Anyway, I want to tell you something else. Before this concert, I had to teach my class from hell.
Colin Beavan maintains that living no-impact makes you a happier person. Is it possible that this can rub off on other people? My class from hell was not the same class today. I couldn't believe the difference -- they acted like humans, sat still, listened, spoke English, answered questions, and did their homework. Was it because I came in with more positive energy? Maybe it was because we finally had our textbooks -- kids like structure, and they feel like they're in class with a book in front of them. I'd like to think it was the former, though.

Some things just take time, I guess.

So far, this has been a week of victories, and I am glad I can say that after being turned down for the masterclass. Everything bad can be made good; everything old, new; everything used, re-used. This is the lesson!

Oh, and I did it -- I carried my snot around today and it wasn't half bad.