Nervous Nellie

Hello: long time no post!

I have been recuperating from my latest adventure and rite of passage: my first solo vocal recital.

I'm not a recital virgin anymore. Hooray!

If you weren't there, here's how it went down:

Like in many rites of passages, I ran the gamut of emotions: from joy to despair and back again. I was well prepared for this concert, having planned to perform it back in October but postponing it due to a cough. I knew the rep. well, since I had lived with it for well over 6 months. All of the pieces, however, would be debuts for me, since I had performed none of them before (!) (other than one Faure, and one Schubert, which I performed the last time as a teenager). As you can see, I faced a daunting task.

Warming up in the hall before the concert, I noticed my high notes were not quite spinning, and my vocal chords were not as flexible as usual. Which is odd, because I am typically the queen of flexible singing. To a fault. I fretted that my voice felt locked and dry, but I attributed it up to nerves and tried to ride it out.

During the first piece, I could tell that something was wrong, but the voice was still coming out, and I was not yet in danger of completely bombing the concert. The dry, pinched feeling increased as a continued to sing, piece after piece, even after taking breaks between sets to speak about the program and sip some water. I remained perplexed. Fearing that everyone in the audience was picking up on my trouble and therefore hating this concert and hating me, I started the Faure set. At this point, danger descended upon me. Apres un reve, the one piece I had performed recently, and possibly my favorite on the entire program, was brutal. I could not sustain the breath through those long passages, and by the time I got to the low note at the end, my chest support collapsed and I barely squeaked out the final low note of the piece. I was mortified and wanted to run away. I thought, I'm going to have to leave the stage and possibly cut the rest of the program short. Then, a voice inside me said, just take a sip of water and a deep breath. It's going to be ok. So I did, and before I could start freaking out again, I was talking about the next piece, and I was on my way to finishing up the concert.

The final set of the recital, De Falla's 7 Spanish Songs, was the highlight, for both myself and the audience (I think), as somehow I finally managed to relax and be myself. Whatever I was struggling with, I was out of the woods, and I became centered, physically, emotionally, and vocally. In the end, the audience loved it, and I even had to come out for a second bow.

Whew!

Next project: learn how to freakin' relax already during a performance. This may take some practice.