off again.

Excuses, excuses...

I got home on Feb 13 at 2 am and left for Baltimore on Feb 14 in the morning. I spent 3 days there, arriving home in the evening of Feb 17. I spent these days at home doing a big audition, going to a friend's wedding celebration, and gettin gover jet lag. I leave today for New York. I haven't really felt like, or even thought of, using my free time to blog... I've been sleeping, or reading Les Miserables.

In any case, here I am. My travels, at least for the moment, are nearly over. I said I'd write here more regularly but I haven't - I've been writing for myself, elsewhere, and I think I will designate this blog space as travel writings only. Blogs can run their course, as I told one friend; they can reach a point where what needs to be said has been said. I don't think I'm there with this one yet, as I am still digesting a lot of what I learned and experienced on the road, and so there will be some activity yet.

But I think when I decide what it is I truly have to say, I will create another space. I have a lot of opinions about music, opera, and art in general, and about a lot of other things that have already become famous blogs: Julie Powell finding purpose and meaning in a quarter-life-crisis; Vanessa Farquharson's Green as a Thistle that turned into a book about her exploits in the world of green living; Alex Ross and his really really good music and book blog, and La Cieca's incredibly funny Parterre Box, an opera blog for you and me and other snarky young opera goers, and Joyce diDonato's excellent blog on the life and times of a professional opera singer. So why add to the mix? I'm looking for something that's mine.

I'm spending the next week in New York, seeing friends and soaking in the city. I audition for Bard College on Friday and feel really strongly that it's where I am supposed to be, so send me your vibes, vibes of any positive sort, that afternoon. I'll be back sort of for good, on Saturday! I can't wait to hibernate in my parents' house for an indefinite amount of time. It seems that a 6-month trip leaves you with a certain deficiency in the "home sweet home" department ... who knew?

the best of all possible worlds?

On one of my very cold days in Berlin, I participated in the Lange Nacht das Museen, and one of the museums I went to on my unlimited ticket was the Deutsche Guggenheim. The Deutsche Bank does a lot of purchasing, and it was a very interesting museum for this reason. They had a special exhibit on utopian laboratories, as the curator called them -- art that either embodied a utopian ideal or sprang from an artistsì colony, or a society, that was built upon these principles, and for whatever reason (nazis closed it down, it was the soviet union, etc etc), "failed", or as the curator puts it, simply ended. The article is interesting, and I am going to reproduce it or find it on the internet so that you may read it if it interests you as well, but I'll highlight a couple of points that resonated with me. It was interesting that both the curator (Vivien Greene of the Guggenheim i nNY) and her interviewer, Susan Cross, herself an art historian and curator, noted that the Internet is both providing opportunities for utopian reality, perhaps nowhere so obviously as Second Life, the online alternate world complete with economy and government, but that these possibilities are being misused: instead of reinventing or transforming their reality to achieve the utopian life they crave, people replicate what they know elsewhere -- for example, in Second Life they may buy the big house in the city that they cannot own in real life, but this is still playing into the capitalist model.
I find this interesting especially after a visit to the Wagenhausen in Freiburg, where people are living literally in caravans without electricity, heat, water, internet, and all the other comforts of life, to try to live in harmony with nature and with other people as much as possible. The concept was interesting but I have to say I was shocked upon visiting, though I consider myself pretty open-minded. Just how far is too far, in search of some other life than the one that we have, which can be so unfulfilling at times?

Or -- completely fulfilling. I am writing this from the Paris airport at the end of the 6-month journey that our globalized society permits a person of some means to take. I am grateful for this, truly, because now I know how much knowledge and experience one might forsake in pursuit of a non-impact or less consumerist lifestyle. There are battles to be picked.

I shall have to recount the torturous tale of getting home in my next entry, which will be soon now that my internet will be reliable 24/7 (Imagine!! A life without 24/7 internet?!) But for now I will say how happy I am to be returning to my home.

becoming friends with berlin

For the first while, as I trudged around icy and snow-laden Berlin, staring up at enormous, boxy edifices that are miles apart, and looking acorss squares a kilometre in area, I asked myself, "What is it about Berlin that I am missing?"
Because Berlin is one of the world's top tourist destinations, at least in my age group. There had to be something I wasn't seeing.
Each thing I do here, though, gives me a glimmer of what that is. It turns out Berlin is just playing hard to get -- a lot like Toronto, actually, in that a first impression of Toronto isn't always dazzling, but once you get to know the city you realize just how much it has to offer.
Last night was a Nuit Blanche of sorts - all of the museums and many other attractions were open and accessible on one (cheap) ticket. I saw the Dom, the Guggenheim, and the Musical Instruments museum, where they were showing silent films with a man playing a historically accurate organ as accompaniment. Berlin is full of incredible museums and galleries; I wish I could have seen more.
Tomorrow I leave for Freiburg, where I hope to frolic in the Black Forest and spend some time with a new friend, a fellow singer I met in Arezzo. She's Texan! I think my hosts live in the hippie commune near Freiburg so I will get a chance to see exactly how green I can handle my life...

Ich bin ein donut!

The dust has settled a little and I have a few minutes to write something.
I arrived here on a train from Den Haag -- it still amazes me that only 6 hours can pass and I am in a different country -- on Wednesday, and was greeted by a Canadian blizzard that had decided to holiday in Germany this year. The next day was already a million times better, however, and I got the chance to wander around the core for a first glance at Berlin and see the New Museum, which has just been reopened following post-war renovations. I did spend about an hour wandering around looking for the music school at which I had an audition today (for the Britten Pears program) - Berlin is just SO BIG that it takes you forever to walk around buildings and get from one block to the next. Moreover, you never run into anyone -- the city appears empty because it is so spread out. Also, the buildings in their Cold War splendour rise up around you like humungous building blocks. It's an intimidating city.
I can't say just yet that it's my absolute favourite. There hasn't been a spark for me with Berin just yet, though I approached one viewing the information at Checkpoint Charlie and the markings showing the former location of the Wall. It more just makes me heart hurt than anything, though, that this city is so full of pain and suffering in its history, and the tourist attractions are basically grim recollections and testaments as if the inhabitants of the city have resigned themselves to reliving the horror each day so that it will never be repeated. I'm not saying that all tourist attractions are sunshine and rainbows, and certainly Italy has its share of pain and suffering in its history too, and many, many other countries, but this city has a different flavour. Maybe because the Wall fell in recent history, the atmosphere of the time still lingers in the air.
One thing I can say about Berlin -- opera, opera, opera!!! Literally -- there are three houses. I took my couchsurfing host to his first opera tonight -- Lohengrin (everyone marvel at the courage of this first-timer to take on such a beast as that). Ben Heppner sang the lead but I was also blown away by Ortrud, played by Waltraud Meier. She got the biggest shout outs from the audience, too.
I'm spending the weekend here and I have an evening train to Freiburg on Monday. I'll be pleased to leave the snow but I know that I will be leaving Berlin with the intention of coming back.

I'm in Holland!

Forgive me. My internet access is dubious at best these days as I city-hop and roam for unsecured connections. Updates are therefore going to be a bit spotty, and in the case of this one, a little more uninspired, though there is much to be inspired about. It's more a question of time.

I stepped off the train in Amsterdam yesterday and nearly cried. What a shock after the terracotta and whitewash of Italy. The architecture of Holland, after so long on the peninsula, seems exotic to me, and the flavour of the city is significantly late 17th and early 18th century, and smacks of the affluence the Dutch bourgeoisie enjoyed at that time. Holland was incredibly successful on the international markets and culture thrived; there is no shortage, surely, in Amsterdam.

I find myself now in the Hague for a couple of days, which is a city of smaller proportions but great international importance. The Peace Palace against the sky at dusk takes your breath away. The city is home to over 100 other international organizations, as well as the Dutch Parliament, and the city centre is full of gorgeous 18th century buildings.

The snow has stopped so it has been truly enjoyable to walk and gawk. Tomorrow I tour the Conservatory and meet some teachers -- the fun begins!

Pictures will come.

Postscript:
Remember the shoe drama of Italy? Well, I think I have learned my lesson... NEver buy Italian shoes if you're made for comfort, not fashion. The only shoes I ever bought in Italy gave me grief. I have either extreme strain, a stress fracture, or arthritis in my right big toe on account of the boots I wore all fall and winter... and they were good boots. They are living with my Milanese family now... good riddance.

I think a post every other day is a much more reasonable resolution..

I head off on my epic adventure tomorrow, so I thought I would post my itinerary in case anyone was curious or had TIPS or THINGS TO DO so that they can live vicariously through me.

16-18 Jan -- Arezzo
19-22 Jan -- Avellino
23 Jan -- Amsterdam
24-27 Jan -- The Hague
27-30???31???? Jan -- Berlin
end of Jan -- 5 Feb -- Koln, Mannheim, Heidelberg, Freiburg
5 Feb - 10 Feb -- Basel, Genève, Lausanne (with detour to French countryside)
10 Feb - 12 Feb -- Berlin

I come home with great pomp and ceremony (that's a lie) on 12 Feb and arrive in the late afternoon. I leave shortly thereafter for Baltimore to do an audition at Peabody Conservatory, and then I spend a week in Toronto before a few days at Bard College, where I am auditioning for their Masters in Vocal Arts.

On my epic adventure I have several teachers to meet for lessons, schools to see, and operas to attend, but part of it is soaking in the atmosphere of a place. With the exception of Berlin, where I have auditions and will thus be staying in a hotel, I want to couchsurf with people who are actually living in that city and can help me get a sense of what it's like.
So if you have any friends, let a girl know.

I can't wait to unleash my three sentences of German on their unsuspecting populace... they will never know what hit them.

a wee tribute

I came back from London in December sick and was relieved of my final responsibilities to my classes. I didn't renew my contract, and am therefore finished working for the school, and it deserves a little send-off.

My first lesson of the day on Thursdays was in Bicocca, a little "suburb" that has sprouted around one of the numerous university campuses here. The tram drops me on campus, and I walk through a series of buildings that are all the same, coloured a specific shade of burnt orange and really really square -- hey must have been built in the 70's; they have that look about them -- to a piazza that is literally an outdoor mall and food court, complete with escalators and picnic tables, "paved" with something that looks like tile, where my students live in a really nice 10-or-so-floor condo. The buildings are tall for Milano and rise up all around you. They are still constructing in this area -- it's soon to become even more of a hub, with its own metro line. It's a vibrant area, or at least has some life about it -- the students pour out of the buildings at lunchtime and line up for kebab or a slice of pizza, and sit all over the piazza. Part of the reason I love going here there and everywhere to teach is getting to discover these new areas of the city, not necessarily beautiful in the same sense as the Duomo is beautiful, or the Foro in Rome; but each face of the city lends it its own flavour and deepens my understanding of its people.
I taught the majority of my lessons in Piazza Aspromonte, a 15-minute walk from my apartment. My walk to work will be a nice memory, if banal. By now, the row of kebab shops, restaurants, knick-knack stores, and cafés is as familiar to me as the row of houses on the way to the corner store where I grew up. OK -- maybe not quite as familiar. But it only takes something as small as a daily walk or other mundane routine to instill a sense of home.
My students were all Italian. Some were children, and some of those children were insupportable, but I am going to miss the little girls who drew me pictures. I'll miss the determined university students working towards proficiency exams and the Spanish-speaking Italian businessman who went crazy for Dire Straits. I won't miss the many cancelled appointments and the students who didn't try; these taught me patience, though, and which things to get stressed about and which to let go.
As for working for an Italian school, I think the well-oiled machine that was my Toronto job spoiled me.

I'm done with the school now, my contract having expired as I said; I've chosen to not renew it and spend my last six or seven weeks travelling and focusing on my personal and artistic development, and enjoying myself. My itinerary is up in the air, and more on that will come later, but I am looking forward to an extremely productive couple of months.

Happy 2010!

A few friends of mine are doing "daily" challenges for 2010 - one (Pratik) is writing 100 words a day, and one (Katy) is taking one photo a day. I think it's a valuable exercise; at the end, you have a record of your year in real-time, as the thoughts and images put down embody the moment in which they were put down. A good reminder, perhaps, of how far you can come in a year.
I think I can manage an entry a day, don't you? My entries to this point have been epic in nature, because I have so much to say and I say it so infrequently. Doing an entry a day may mean that some of them are less earth-shattering than others, which I can guess is probably OK with you. Some may border on inane, and for this I apologize.
It's probably for the best; over the vacation I read a book called "On Writing Well" by one William Zissner, and it changed some things I used to think about writing, specifically mine.

It's January 5, but everyone knows the year only starts on the first Monday of January, so I have only missed one day. Today will therefore be a two-entry day (and maybe other days will be too, if I feel the need to make up Jan 1-3).




My latest existential struggle was brought on by the arrival of another rejection letter, this from the Royal Academy of Music. After a long day of breast-beating and forswearing of the art of song, I've decided to take charge. I've made a list of the major European conservatories that interest me, and I'm busy researching them for submission deadlines and teachers that catch my attention for whatever reason, and from this, plotting some kind of itinerary by which I will endeavour to meet said teachers and have a lesson. That way, I will have an "in" when I go to audition. I think this would have helped me immensely in London. Being unknown in a sea of similarly-skilled light lyrics and soubrettes with no leverage of any kind is a lost battle before it's fought.

One. The Hague, Netherlands...

..it's going to be a long day.

a Trittico à la Danielle

I was in London twice this month, and my timing was impeccable, as I was able to catch a concert version of Otello (Verdi) with Gerald Finley as Iago!!! with the LSO on Dec 3 and Der Rosenkavalier at the Royal Opera on Dec 13.

While Finley's interpretation of Iago was pretty much revolutionary and well-matched by the masterful playing of the LSO with Sir Colin Davis at the helm (and would we have expected anything different? The LSO IS RAD), I am sad to say his colleagues paled in comparison.
Otello was actually a pinch singer, whose name I am embarrassed to forget (the program is safely packed away in the suitcase heading to Canada with my mom) and I forgive him for any indiscretions (ie vowel modifications) he committed during the performance. I bet he'd gotten off the plane that morning; these things must be considered.
Entrances were made during the music, as it was a concert performance; Ms Tufano, who had 3 lines as Emilia, sashayed onstage with as much ado as she could muster during a very dramatic bit of Otello's, completely upstaging him, in a black strapless number that left absolutely nothing to the imagination from my seat in the rafters. She took her seat and proceeded to drink water, play with her hair, and rifle repeatedly through her score before completely botching her miniscule bit in the ensemble near the end of the first(?) act. I was unimpressed.
Anne Schwanewilms as Desdemona left a little to be desired as well -- absolutely not artistically, though, and I am sure she had a pretty voice, but I couldn't hear her at all for a good 90% of the opera. Good thing the orchestra was making pretty sounds.
As I mentioned, Finley absolutely stole the show. His Iago was ruthless and technically impeccable. The colours he achieved -- at one point subsiding to barely a whisper that was audible in every corner of the hall -- brought shivers and the notion that here was a man who had not a good bone in his body.

Der Rosenkavalier was certainly more polished, well-balanced, and overall, enjoyable. It boasted Sophie Koch (who is DROP DEAD GORGEOUS) as Octavian, Lucy Crowe (young and up and coming and really quite charming) as Sophie, and Soile Isokoski (no idea who she is, but a nice light lyric) as Marschallin, and the three made a very very dynamic trio. The cast included Thomas Allen as Faninal, which was a treat, and Peter Rose was an excellent Ochs. The production was a revival of the 1986 Covent Garden production , for which I give them props: the dress the Te Kanawa is wearing on the front cover is worth the price of admission (£12.50, I stood) alone.
I left the theatre that evening feeling as though I myself had done the opera: drained but wired, as you often are after a show, and craving human contact. I ended up writing something like 6 pages in my journal. I felt as though the performers really took me on a journey; I was inspired as I am not very often inspired after a night at the theatre. I can't say much more about it because some things you don't have words for.

The third opera of my Trittico is Carmen, here in Milano, which I have gotten sneak peeks of by way of my obliging colleague who is singing a supporting role. Sitting in on rehearsals of the opera that will open La Scala's season and chatting with JONAS KAUFMANN (who should be People's next Sexiest Man Alive, if only because he's SUUUUCH the Gentleman) is certainly how I like to spend my Friday nights. Tomorrow I will stand in line for one of 140 10-euro gallery seats to see the finished product. This is Emma Dante's new production which has gotten a lot of hype; from what I saw in rehearsal, there is a good deal of Roman Catholic imagery, as well as many allusions to the Sicilian mafia. It isn't really updated, though; it seems as though it will be suspended in time as more of an allegory than anything.

Stay tuned...

London: Round One

the hyde park christmas MONSTER!

My first trip to London this year was early in the month of December, when it was just beginning to get chilly, and got dark around 4 pm.
(Europe in the winter never ceases to surprise me -- for example, the idea of temperatures so high as to allow rain all winter is such a novelty. 4 pm darkness would be something I was accustomed to if I were from Edmonton, but I'm not.)

A guy butted in front of me in the boarding pass line, I think without knowing he was doing it; his belated "so sorry, sorry" immediately tipped me off as to his provenance. When I spotted his passport I asked where he was from exactly; turns out we are from the same province, same city, same PART of same city.. and.. SAME HIGH SCHOOL. It is a truly small world.

Aside from a minor broken-boot incident that resulted in a day and a half of sopping foot in incessant downpours, the trip was really lovely. I stayed with an old singer friend and saw another few friends from school and my travels here; I was refreshed by the sight of familiar faces even in unfamiliar locales. London isn't that unfamiliar to me, as I spent three weeks exploring it in 2007 when a good friend was living there. So that probably helped too.

I finally ticked Brick Lane off my London bucket list with a soul-searing curry and a good friend from university. My soul was revived by a rambunctious and truly uplifting production of La Cage aux Folles. Who doesn't need a little drag in their life?

While I haven't been offered admission to the Royal Academy, I was placed on the waitlist for the final round of auditions for the Aix-en-Provence summer residency for lied and contemporary repertoire. A small success, but a pertinent one: the audition was a true learning experience. I went in to that audition about as cold as I could have gone into any audition; they were running early and I was running late, having got lost in the maze that surrounds Waterloo station. It was cold and I had walked for half a hour. I went in and the first sounds I made were.. well.. honks. But I am convinced that there is nothing I do better than contemporary repertoire and art song, especially if it's Hymnen an die Nacht, and I swear to you, there is nothing more valuable than your strongest warhorse on a bad day. That piece has pulled me through I don't know how many auditions. It's not just that though; we all have to enumerate our strengths and play on them, and one of mine is being myself on stage. (It's when you ask me to be a character that I freeze up.) And who better to be singing something as outré as Hymnen an die Nacht or as intimate as, say, An den Mond?

Lessons learned...

London-town, endless rain, and facebooking around the planet...

Remember how I said the sun was back out? I lied. That sentence was written in a freak moment in which I looked out the window and happened to see light, and promptly turned back to the screen, thereby missing the sun's rapid escape into the nebulous abyss...

Only kidding. But it rains a lot here! No more than it does in London, I am sure, which is my next destination -- I leave Saturday afternoon for a 5-day trip. Apart from my audition at the Royal Academy, I'll be auditioning for the residencies at the Aix-en-Provence festival and hopefully having a voice lesson, if I can get the scheduling to work out. Some cultural highlights? Well, a staged Messiah at the ENO; the LSO doing a concert performance of Otello; Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park; an Auerbach exhibit at the Courtald Gallery; all kinds of curry on Brick Lane; and let's not forget that Britain's museums and galleries are FREE.
I am also pleased to be able to meet up with some good friends from UWO and one I made earlier on my sojourn here, at an audition. I'll be staying with an old friend from a summer program; how wonderful that I can rely on the people I have met over the years. They are still accessible thanks to things like Facebook.

Let's face it -- Facebook and other networking sites have brought global communication to a new level. I am finding Facebook an extremely useful tool, and it's actually enhancing my experience by allowing me to share my experiences in practically real time with people at home, keep in touch with friends I meet in passing on my travels and keep track of where everyone is. I am currently considering an extended trip through Germany, Switzerland and maybe France and for sure the south of Italy; as I look at the possibilities I realize how many people I actually know here and how many couches I could potentially surf, and how many people I have connected with briefly that I may have never seen again, but now have the chance to develop relationships with. I would hope to be able to offer the same hospitality to them and to others when I am settled into a place.

There are networks such as couchsurfing.org that are set up specifically for connection-hungry people. The main function is to set up adventurous spirits on the move with couches to crash on, complete with a host, where there is ideally some level of mutual interest and a potential friendship that could develop, or just a few days of excellent company and hopefully some stuff learned; there is also an option of meeting someone in your own city, or the city you happen to be in, for coffee or a drink, to do a language exchange or discuss your mutual passion for yoga, or pork dishes, or whatever, or show each other around to your favourite restaurants and art galleries.. the list goes on, but the interesting thing here is that we don't just have sites for keeping in touch anymore, we have sites for facilitating meetings with new people as well. Look at internet dating -- still has a huge stigma attached, but lots of people are taking advantage and quite happy with their results. These sites simply widen our pool of possibilities. It is such a paradox that in a world of infinite possibilities we are increasingly limited by our daily activity: commute, work at computer, send text messages, interact via IPhone, watch Tivo. Life is easier every day, but more solitary.

It won't be long now before I leave Milano. A few trips planned -- two to London and a hiking weekend in Cinque Terre -- and then a week in Florence and Rome with my mom, and a short week after that, I move out. I'll miss it, but it's time, I think.
It's been difficult for me to make friends here. I am hoping that a little couch surfing with friends and couchsurfing with fellow couchsurfers will enrich my final month here in Europe. I am still waiting on audition dates but once they start to come in, the month will take shape.

In the meantime...