Department of Practice

Many of us study or work in schools of music, or departments of music. At McGill, I work in the Department of Performance which is just one department of the larger Schulich School of Music of McGill University.

We call ourselves that, I guess, because we are performing professors who teach about performing to future performers.

Or do we? Is it all performing all the time? Certainly it looks that way with over 600 public performances given each year in our various venues on and off campus. (That's a lot, mind you.) Each of those performances represents hundreds of hours of preparation, score research, listening, active learning, studying with mentors, and - especially this - practice.

"Practice makes perfect" or my favourite (NOT): "How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice."

Both of those famous quotes are truly not true. Far from it. Research has shown that too much practice focused on achieving perfection oftentimes does not give one perfection. And really, what's perfection? Totally unattainable outside of a few Olympic gymnasts or divers, (or Julia Child's recipe for boeuf bourguignon.) As well, getting to Carnegie Hall is pretty easy nowadays. Put together some money, gather your forces, and rent the hall. I know lots of people who've performed at Carnegie, but I can tell you honestly that very few got there just by practicing.

But practicing is a huge part of a students' world. When I was a piano major, I never practiced (I've blogged about this probably too much. It sounds like a boast, but it actually is my only regret in life.) There's a famous memoir "I really should be practicing" by the great pianist Gary Graffman. The title speaks deeply to many instrumentalists during their student years, and it really spoke to me as it was my mantra at Simpson. I'd say it late at night while painting a set, or I'd say it later the same night over shared Dominoes Pizza with others who should've been practicing too.

Nowadays, just like in yesteryears passed, students stress out about practicing - either they're risking injury by practicing too much or ignoring the pile of music on their desk. It's stressful just typing about practicing!

I think what might be adding to this stress is that, through social media, we are now teaching young people that learning itself is stressful. Because, you see, stress sits very close to the feeling of being uncomfortable. Stress is now being seen as entirely negative, which is too bad because stress is not always a negative force. Uncomfortable, yes. But not always a negative thing.

"Stress kills!" read the headlines. Then there are all the medical sites, with their "stress and high cholesterol", "stress and depression", "stress and binge eating", etc., etc., etc.

Depending on what motivates a musician to practice, the stress is magnified or lessened. Deadline to memorize a movement of a sonata looming? Good stress. Accepting a gig at the last minute that causes you to have to learn gobs of music overnight? Good stress. Taking on too many gigs while starting a new program of study and a new job bartending at night? Not the best kind of stress. Forgetting to translate your texts until the day before stagings begin? Shame on you!

Practice is not solely a sole activity. Collaborating with others is what most musicians do as the next step beyond their own practice. And collaboration can be difficult. Everyone in the room seems to have done more research than you, prepared more dutifully than you, had more coachings and lessons on their role than you. And they're all skinnier it seems and wearing cooler outfits in order to impress their new colleagues (why did I choose to wear the tight jeans today?) The stress of collaborating, especially with new colleagues, is like the stress of a blind date. You know the name of the restaurant (La Boheme), and the name of your date (Marcello), but you know little else and have to wing it, even though you've prepared for your date simply by living your life. Preparing for the first rehearsal of an opera takes a lot of practicing, a lot of preparation. Everyone is nervous and trying to impress, so everyone is stressed (and don't you hate the person who knows everyone else and is running around kissing everybody on the cheek?!) Why have sweaty palms too?

Collaborating is the big step towards being able to perform in public. It is a courageous act. It is also a joyous and wondrous communal act as well.  Collaborating is the reward for practicing. A lot of times, I think young singers misunderstand that rehearsing is practicing. We even use those two words for the same activity (particularly in high school when your parents would say "how was practice tonight?") But practicing is really something that happens before collaboration and rehearsal, and those two things are continuations of actual practice, to be sure. For most of us who do this long enough, collaboration is usually pure joy.

If one doesn't feel some sort of joy in the activity of practice or feel mostly joy while learning something new, collaborating on it, and then performing it, perhaps one shouldn't be encouraged to study music.  Music schools think they teach performers, but it is a misnomer really. We teach "practicers", because that's what we all do 'till our own song ends.

Practicers are who we are, really, because it's what we spend 98% of our time doing.

Practice doesn't make perfect, but it does make performers.

A Serenade to Shakespeare

Most of the big Shakespeare celebrations have come and gone. In case you missed it, 2016 is the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death. Just a few years ago, we were celebrating the 450th anniversary of his birth (a date not quite as fixed as his death) in 2014. If the math fails you, that's 1564 - 1616 for good ol' Will Shakespeare.

I spent a whole year back in 2014 celebrating the 450th. Productions connected to Shakespeare's works on the stage: Giulio Cesare, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I Capuleti e i Montecchi, a huge scenes program featuring excerpts of both the Shakespeare plays and their operatic treatments: scenes from The Tempest, Othello, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Romeo and Juliet, and The Merry Wives of Windsor with the opera versions by Hoiby, Britten, Gounod, Nicolai, and Verdi, and a special evening of "Songs and Sonnets" focused on songs with Shakespeare texts by Tippet, Finzi, Quilter, Korngold, Thomson, and Vaughan Williams (his Serenade to Music was the finale.) We documented the whole year via the talents of videographer Anne Kostalas. The documentary, which is fascinating in all that it encompasses, is viewable here (highly recommended!): Shakespeare at Opera McGill

This year, I missed the big celebration in London, England (by just a few days) put together by The Globe. It looked amazing and I hope it was a huge success. Here's a link to that site: Shakespeare400 at the Globe

There were, are still, many more celebrations ongoing. One of them is happening toward the end of July at the Toronto Summer Music Festival. Again, another link: July 27th Shakespeare Serenade at the TSMF

This is a combination of the Shakespeare scenes program and the evening of songs and sonnets from the Opera McGill 450th celebration and I'm really looking forward to putting these two evenings together for a Toronto audience. It's such a huge program that I couldn't play the whole thing, so I invited the wondrous Michael Shannon to share the program with me at the piano. It's all happening at the University of Toronto's Walter Hall on July 27th. Check that link out for ticket info and don't miss it!

Putting this program together has been a rather huge challenge. There are 16 singers involved, most of whom live in the Greater Toronto Area and are leading very busy lives this summer. The scenes program is slightly easier because it involves a trio or a quartet of people -- that's easy to schedule. The Serenade second-half of the program, however, is staged with all 16 singers moving about as individuals. There's only one way to do this and that's to have everyone present in order to make the interactions work. We're basically doing it in one night, so wish us all luck.

Not that I'm worried because the talent of the performers is huge, as is their experience. These singers have graced Canadian stages from Vancouver Opera to the Canadian Opera Company to L'opéra de Montreal as well as performing in hundreds of opera productions at their schools (yes, the majority did go to McGill but, hey, I wanted to work with my former students again!), summer training programs throughout Canada and the United States, and Indie opera companies like Opera5, Compagnie Baroque Mont-Royal, and Stu&Jess Productions. Michael Shannon, who is also a former student, has been spending his time learning his operatic trade at places like the San Francisco Opera and the C.O.C.; not too shabby!

It's a concert inspired by the Bard, with a traditional kind of opera scenes program yet with the twist being that the audience will first watch the singers act the original Shakespeare scene and then watch and hear what it looks like when adapted for the operatic stage. Truly a unique way of presenting these scenes and one that informs both the Shakespeare and the operatic version. It's also quite challenging for the singers to act the Shakespeare!

The second half is a non-traditional approach to a song recital. Normally, a singer walks out onto the concert stage with a pianist in tow, bows to the audience and then sings through a cycle of songs by someone, with the emphasis being on the text and the music. Dramatic energy and action is typically frowned upon (god knows why…) by many who view the recital as something quite conservative and stolid for, um, serious people. The audience sits in silence and reads translations of texts while they listen. (Sometimes I think I might as well be listening to a recording at many of the recent recitals I've attended.) When taken to its extreme, a singer can take away any original perspective on the piece, giving up any sort of personal stamp on a set of songs in order to give, I don't know, some sort of justice to the purity of the composer perhaps? This drives me crazy because, of course, with the great recitalists that is the last thing they do.

Well, this second half won't be like that at all. There'll be over a dozen singers on the stage, casually drinking and listening to each other express their love, anger, betrayal, dismay, or hope via the most amazing texts by Shakespeare set to music by some of the greatest composers of the 20th century. The idea is that these people onstage have just left some sort of summer dinner party and have entered the garden to enjoy more of each other, while some are inspired to recite poetry (via a number of the Sonnets) and fall in and out of love.  It all ends with all of the singers performing the magical Vaughan Williams Serenade To Music, which if you've never heard it sung by soloists with piano accompaniment is sure to please. In fact, my favourite song - ever - is featured on the evening's program and I can't wait to perform it live!

And make sure to check out the other amazing evenings at the Toronto Summer Music Festival. Here's the link to their home site: Toronto Summer Music Festival website

Toronto's Opera Scene!

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Toronto Blog

I’ve been in Toronto the last two weeks rehearsing J. Strauss’ Die Fledermaus with Opera5, one of the many new, “indie” opera companies that have sprung up over the last five years in this, the 5^th largest city in North America.

Yes, 5^th largest city. At over 6 million, Toronto is bigger than Miami, Philly, Dallas-Ft.Worth, Boston, Houston, or Washington, D.C.

So there should be a viable operatic community here beyond the Canadian Opera Company.

And in my short time in Toronto, it is clear that it is thriving.

I arrived the weekend that Against the Grain Theatre (AGT) closed their critically acclaimed “translaptation” of Mozart’s Così fan tutte re-titled to “A Little Too Cozy”. It starred three McGill alumni: baritone Cairan Ryan (a former L’opéra de Montreal Atelier young artist), tenor Aaron Sheppard (currently a member of the Canadian Opera Company’s young artist program), and mezzo-soprano Rihab Chaieb (who just finished up her 1^st year at the Met’s prestigious Lindemann program). It was presented in an actual TV studio (it took place in a reality show setting, fyi) and was directed by the crown prince of Indie opera here in Canada, Joel Ivany.

Then a few nights ago I went to see the world premiere production of Tapestry Opera’s Rocking Horse Winner, based on the short story of D.H. Lawrence. The creative libretto, which included the character of the “House” (sung by a quartet) was perfectly set by the amazing Scottish composer Gareth Williams. In fact, I sat there thinking that this was the 21^st century’s version of The Turn of the Screw. Orchestrated for string quartet, piano (and toy piano at the end), the voices of the “house” were perfectly blended into the tense, lyrical strings which provided both an harmonic tapestry as well as becoming a character themselves during the horse racing scenes; Britten would have been proud to have written this score.  I urge everyone to check out this composer in more detail. Mr. Williams website:  Gareth Williams, composer 

Tapestry Opera's website is located here: Tapestry Opera Website

The cast was terrific! The "House" was sung by Sean Clark, Aaron Durand, Erica Iris, and Elaina Moreau; the Mother, Ava was given a sensitive portrayal by Carla Huhtanen, Uncle Oscar was Keith Klassen (who looked and sounded like a Broadway star), Bassett was Peter McGillivray, and the most amazing performance I’ve seen in quite some time was by the young tenor Asitha Tennekoon who sang the lead role of young Paul. This young singing actor gave an exceptional performance, artistic administrators should get this guy’s number and contract him now before others find out about him.  I was also most impressed with Michael Mori’s restrained but spooky direction, and the whole wondrous production design (particularly the set by Camellia Koo). The opera was conducted by the young and preternaturally talented Maestro, Jordan de Souza. He’s off to Europe to take a position with the Komische Oper in Berlin and at the Bregenz Festival in Austria.  I expect Mo. de Souza will take over the operatic world any day now. If you've never heard of him, check out this site: Mo. JdS website

The reason for my stay in Toronto is to conduct Opera5’s very broad and unique take on Fledermaus. It is an “immersive” production, meaning that the audience and the actors will be in the same space, literally dancing and interacting with each other. The 1^st act is being designed and given in a “2D” set, then for the 2^nd act the idea is that the opera jumps off of the stage and into full “3D”. Added into the mix is the Toronto-based drag queen Pearl Harbor as an MC of sorts, plus cabaret acts including a Burlesque dancer and an aerialist doing her moves literally within and above the audience! Although I wonder if all of the ideas inherent in Fledermaus work easily into this concept as the piece is still about a philandering married couple who blame the evening’s transgressions on the “champagne” – although in this production’s case there is a beer sponsor, so free Steam Whistle beer is being served on opening night throughout (yes, throughout!) the opera. We’ve changed all champagne references to “Steam Whistle”, in a blatant advertisement for this Toronto based beer.

If I can generalize what makes these sorts of Indie opera ventures different, I’d say that Against the Grain sets to manipulate conventional opera into new pieces entirely, tossing out the da Ponte libretti to Don Giovanni, Le Nozze di Figaro, and Così fan tutte and replacing them with all new characters and plots while keeping Mozart’s musical score. Eventually, they may run out of things to adapt and retranslate, so it’ll be interesting to see where the company goes. They are certainly venue-based and have exceptional PR here in Canada, plus have good taste in singers. The production of A Little Too Cozy was accompanied by string quartet and piano, which was also the orchestration for Tapestry’s recent world premiere. Yet Tapestry’s opera was actually scored for string quartet and piano, Mozart’s operas are for much more than that, usually. Tapestry seems to be much more of a “real” opera company (sorry to even suggest that moniker) in that they have a budget that can produce opera in a very polished and professional manner. Rocking Horse Winner looked like a Glimmerglass production, and could easily hold its own against many productions I've seen at much larger opera companies. The production values didn’t seem in any way “indie”, and so I wonder what Tapestry Opera might be able to do if they had even a portion of the COC's annual budget.

Opera5 is the upstart company, at least that’s the feeling I get from talking with many young singers here in Toronto. They are the plucky, “let’s-put-on-an-opera-in-my-barn” artists who are faced with the challenge of how to put on professional opera (with many artists who are Equity) with virtually no infrastructure most opera companies have: a paid staff, for instance, an office from which to sell tickets, a development director to raise funds, or regular rehearsal spaces. Opera5 is headed by the artistic vision of stage director, Aria Umezawa and Rachel Krehm (Opera5’s “general director” but really she’s a one-woman opera administration team.) Both are former students of mine. Frankly so many of the people involved in the Toronto Indie Opera scene are former students that there really is a mini-McGill community working inside these companies and on their stages! Check out Opera5's website: Opera5

[Make sure to read to the bottom to see a bunch of bonus links to HILARIOUS videos produced by Opera5!!]

Aria’s vision for this Fledermaus has been taken on by our co-director Jessica Derventzis while Aria moves to San Francisco for the summer to take part in the prestigious Merola Opera young artist program. Aria was my assistant director for over a dozen shows at McGill during my early years there and I couldn’t have built the program without her. She has a unique artistic vision, quite her own. I’m looking forward to seeing what happens after the wider world gets to know her. Jessica herself has produced numerous operas in Montreal under the team name of "Jess&Stu Productions", so she represents yet another indie opera company involved in creating found space, or venue-based,opera productions. 

Here's an interview with Aria: Interview on schmopera.com

Here's Jessica's site: Stu&Jess 

One of the things that does seem to make Opera5 different than the rest is their commitment to presenting operas with fuller orchestrations. Granted for this show there isn’t room in the space for a full orchestra. I think the dozen musicians we have in this reduced orchestration actually make a lovely sound that combines quite nicely with the voices in the room. For all of act 2 and 3 the singers are behind me, which is a challenge in a musical score that has multiple fermati (moments when the music is held in suspension from a time perspective) that normally are controlled by everyone watching the conductor. It reminds me of a number of musicals I’ve conducted where the orchestra is behind or, in some cases, in completely different rooms, than the singers. It can totally be done, and quite easily. It just takes rehearsal and planning (and flexibility from everyone involved!) Needless to say, it takes exceptional players to play a reduction and make it sound spectacular. These players are some of the best I’ve ever conducted, so it makes my job so much easier!

If there is a future for opera beyond the endless Boheme remounts, it is in the smaller opera companies and venue-based operatic productions springing up in New York City, Toronto, San Francisco, and Montreal. In fact, Michael Mori, the artistic director of Tapestry Opera has founded a group representing a dozen independent opera companies in the Toronto are: Indie Opera T. O.  I wonder if Opera America and/or opera.ca (the Canadian wing of professional opera companies) are thinking about how to include these smaller opera companies in the wider discussions happening about the future of the art form?

If any of my readers are interested in supporting these companies, or finding out more about them, I urge you to check out their websites that I’ve provided along the way. Opera5 could really use your support, so if you are in the Toronto area on June 8, 9, 10, or 11 buy a ticket and come to the show. It certainly will NOT be your grandma’s Fledermaus, and you might find yourself enjoying the sonic boom of hearing an Adele sing her famous Laughing Song 4 feet away from you while a chorister sings backup literally standing next to you! Here's the link to buy tickets: Tickets for Fledermaus!

And as an added bonus, please check out Opera5's famous "OperaCheat" videos. They have over 100,000 views on YouTube and really shouldn't be missed. I've linked the latest OperaCheat video here: OperaCheats!

The Secret To (My) Success

Recently, an article made the rounds on Facebook about how creative types succeed (or don't succeed) based on their abilities to network. I agree with much of the article, particularly the sentence about Luck playing an important part of success.

Here's a link to the article:

The Unfair Truth About Why Creative People Succeed

He references a terrific writer, Mihaly Csikszentmihaly, who wrote a book that was pretty influential back in the 90s. I heartily recommend it: "Flow".

Here's the wiki link about Mihaly:

Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi wikipedia site

Go ahead, click on those links and read away!

Now that you've read some bits from the above links, we can move forward.

According to Jeff Goins, the author of "The Unfair Truth…", there is a systematic approach for creative types who achieve "success" (let's not even discuss what that word means!)
These steps are:

1. Individual
2. Field
3. Domain

"First, an individual must master her craft in a given domain (art, science, mathematics). Then, this person must offer the creative work to a field of influencers in that domain who are trusted experts. Finally, the gatekeepers decide if the work is worth being accepted as authoritative into the domain."

I see this very clearly when I look back at my "path". Of course there's no PATH out there (I've blogged about that one a few years ago) it just seems like there's a path when one turns around and sees where they've been and how they got to where they are now.

But this Systems Approach is an interesting way of looking at How To Succeed In Creative Fields By Trying. There's some great stuff about needing a network, moving to find a better field, and talking about the idea of 'gatekeepers'. 

Let me explain by using my life as an example. Then, at the end of this blog, I promise to reveal the Secret To My Success!

PJH's "Systems Approach" history -- in an extremely truncated version!

INDIVIDUAL: 

Yes, I mastered my craft pretty early on. I was playing Beethoven sonatas in Jr. High and playing them well (Op. 2 No. 2 is not a sonata that most 13 year olds start out on, considering the leaping left hand 10ths.) I got noticed and found myself playing Chopin Ballades and the big Romantic concertos before I was even in high school. I discovered musical theatre and used my talents for faking dancing and my bass to tenor range (none of it all that great) to get me into school shows as well as community theatre. Because I could tap dance (sort of), I found myself in a community theatre show where I met a guy who was putting together a show in Omaha and they needed a pianist/music director. So at the ripe old age of 17, I got my first pro job as an MD for the "musical" Trouble in Tahiti. It was the perfect operatic start -- Bernstein courtesy of my musical theatre network (and my tap shoes!)

FIELD:

I offered my "artistry" to many trusted experts, from local stage directors wanting to take me out to bars with names like "Neon Goose" in Omaha's Old Market when I was barely 16 (welcome to the world of theatre…), to  Drake University piano professors who thought I was too distracted by musical theatre to be a "serious" pianist, to my teacher at Simpson College, Robert Larsen who opened up a literal whole new world for me at Des Moines Metro Opera during my first years as a wannabe opera coach. One person in this new operatic field was the DMMO apprentice program director, Stewart Robertson (who later became my boss at Glimmerglass and Florida Grand Opera.) My "Field" opened up considerably when I moved to NYC to accept a fellowship at the Juilliard School's Opera Center. All of a sudden I was playing for Marlena Malas' best students (including Troyanos on occasion), and playing repertoire I'd never gotten my hands on in Indianola, Iowa or Kansas City, Missouri. Seemingly overnight, I found myself playing on the Met stage (Levine in the house) for a soprano whose audition repertoire that day included arias from Lulu and Die Walküre. WHAT?! SERIOUSLY?! And on an upright piano, no less!

My Field had become the Opera World.

DOMAIN:

There were many mini-gatekeepers along the way who helped me move forward and opened doors. (Actually, I ran into many who thought they were THE Operatic Gate Keepers but I quickly was able to steer clear of their egos for the most part.) But there were three exceedingly important Gatekeepers in my life, two who intersected one day in line for coffee and the third I met because of the second Gatekeeper.

Yes, my success was really about standing in line for coffee in NYC with one Gatekeeper as he ran into an old friend, the other Gatekeeper. It is called LUCK. Here's the story (I wish I could animate it like the story of the three brothers in "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows"!):

It happened in my second semester at Juilliard -- Luckily, I was assigned to play rehearsals for a 20th century scenes program that was being presented by The Juilliard Opera Center during my first year as an Opera Fellow. The director was the legendary Frank Corsaro and the conductor was a rising young American, Hal France. Hal was, at the time, the husband of the amazing soprano Sylvia McNair and he'd later go on to be the artistic director for Opera Omaha. But for me, back then, he was what I wanted to be: an opera conductor. Yet I really had no idea how to go about becoming one. I had practiced the literature for the program and it was HARD SHIT. Berg, Stravinsky, Floyd, Walton, Bernstein, and some others. Maestro France seemed impressed, but he was there to coach the singers before stagings began and that was his focus. We were up in his Julliard apartment waiting for a singer to show and, as LUCK would have it, the singer didn't show. Hal finally said, "Do you want to go get a coffee or something?" I said, "Sure, would you like me to bring back something for you?" (I didn't even think he would go with little old me) and he retorted with "No, let's both go and we can talk about you."

Really? Talk about me? What was going on here?

You see, back in 1992 we didn't have "mentors", nor did we even describe our mentors as "mentors". That just wasn't in the vocabulary really. I was hoping to just not get fired, let alone find a "mentor" who could offer advice.

So off we went. We walked into some place across from Juilliard (no Starbucks in NYC then) and waited in a long line. 

Lady Luck smiled that day…

The guy in front of us heard Hal and I talking and he turned around and said "Hal?" and Hal said "Donald? What are you doing here?" and then Donald said "I'm auditioning pianists" and Hal said "You should hire this kid." Yes, that's a true story!

Long story short, Donald did hire me. He hired me based on Hal France's recommendation that happened in line in a coffee shop because a singer had forgotten to come to a coaching that I was playing because I was pretty good (frankly, fucking brilliant) at playing 20th century scores because I had no fear of opera because I had gone to Simpson where a great man, Dr. Larsen, had taught me that opera was something to never be afraid of, and that I met Dr. Larsen because a friend of mine in High School had gone to the Simpson College summer music camp and recommended it to me because she and I had studied with the same wonderful piano teacher in the 70s and 80s in Council Bluffs, Iowa (Berneil Hanson) because I had lost my first teacher when she and her husband moved out of the state.

If that first piano teacher hadn't moved out of town, I would not be typing these words now.

So Hal France was the first Gate Keeper.

The 2nd was the freaking god of all opera gods: Donald Palumbo!

You see, I had no idea who "Donald" was at the time I was standing in line waiting for coffee with Hal. In fact, while he asked me questions, I kept thinking "who is this guy, and what job am I up for, and how embarrassing it was for me that I had NO CLUE!"

In case you might not know who I'm talking about, here's a great NYTimes article:
NYTimes on Donald Palumbo

So my first big gig after leaving the midwest and getting to The Juilliard School (one has to capitalize the "T" in "The" when one speaks of The Juilliard School, fyi) was at the Lyric Opera of Chicago.

Lucky Dog!

I played 15 operas under Donald Palumbo, who at the time was the chorus master for the Lyric Opera of Chicago (now he's working his magic at the Met.) Cosi, Wozzeck, Trovatore, Traviata, Boheme, Le Cid, Susannah, Don Quichotte, Tosca and others.  From Maestro Palumbo I learned that it was possible to be the pickiest musician alive and still get astounding results. I learned that if my ass wasn't on the piano bench 15 minutes before rehearsals began, I'd be fired. I learned that I would have to start at "Rehearsal 1" a thousand billion times in one night because the men couldn't get their first entrance in act one of Traviata to an acceptable level. I learned that there was no such thing as good enough. I learned that you had to insist on perfection in order to gain access to perfection's universe. I learned how the Boheme chorus goes, every last syllable of it. I learned how to redistribute choral lines in Tosca the way Toscanini did because that's the way Palumbo's mentor, the La Scala chorus master Roberto Benaglio, did things. I learned that the art of being a great operatic chorus master was a rare art and that Palumbo was the Michelangelo of opera chorus masters.  

But boy did he scare the shit out of me every single rehearsal that first summer. During the first month of rehearsal, I would wander home at night and my wife (we'd been married 6 months by that time) would ask "how'd it go" and I'd say something like "I missed a few notes in the Tosca and Maestro gave me the look of death but the Verdi went better, only a dozen or so notes missed". Later, I started to focus on what he was hearing, how he'd react, how he was fixing things or drilling certain sections, and I'd think to myself "he's going to stop for this". And guess what, slowly and surely, I was there. I was understanding his process and his expectations. His ears were simply the best in the business!

I learned so very much from Maestro Palumbo, and I'm certainly indebted to him for not firing me, and for rehiring me for the next season of rehearsals because that's how I met my 3rd Gate Keeper.

In the middle of June I think, Maestro Palumbo turned to me at the end of a rehearsal and spoke to me. I was stunned. He didn't really speak all that much to me, in a direct way, about anything other than "2 before rehearsal 45" or the occasional "don't drag". Come to find out, he'd recommended me for an assistant chorus master position at Pittsburgh Opera. Really? I practically cried on the L going home that night. I was elated. I had been recommended by my operatic god! For a job!

SO --- I prepared my audition (Storm scene from Otello, Komponist from Ariadne -- no problem there, it was my party piece as I sang it up the octave in my best dramatic counter tenor voice, "Salut!" aria from Faust, and the opening of Rigoletto and probably Carmen quintet) and was flown to Pittsburgh one fateful July 4th weekend. The audition was an awful experience. A dour chorus master who did not appreciate my fabulous high Bflat at the end of Komponist said "please play it again and sing down the octave" with a face that said "please die and leave my space".  I had knocked that Strauss outa the park, thank you very much.

I didn't get the job, but I had met Tito Capobianco and a few others there, and somehow I'd made an impression (in my youth, I was rather charming.) Side note: Three years later I was hired by Pittsburgh, probably because of that impression. Anyway, I was back at Chicago and my contract was coming to an end. It was August and it was hot in the city. My time at Juilliard was at an end and so I was looking at trying to struggle through being a freelance pianist in Chicago. Not. An. Easy. Thing. To. Do. In 1993…

Just as I was contemplating looking for a real job selling watches, I got a phone call from the third Gate Keeper. It was Michael Ching.

Michael had been up at Pittsburgh Opera doing an onsite evaluation and so had known that Pittsburgh had just pulled in a few young guns to audition for their assistant chorus master position. Michael called up Tito at Pittsburgh because he was looking for a rehearsal pianist in Memphis and asked him who his second choice was. They gave him my name.

Michael is the third Gate Keeper because he opened up a whole new section of the operatic world for me. Michael gave me my professional conducting debut (a matinee of Gretry's Zemire et Azor,) He got me my job as Resident Conductor for Ash Lawn Summer Festival, where I conducted 36 performances of 4 operas and 2 musicals in just six weeks during my two seasons. Later -- years later -- he would hire me back to direct an Orpheo in Memphis and then yet later -- a few more years later -- recommend me to David Hamilton (Fargo Opera) who was looking for a stage director for Fidelio (FIDELIO! I GOT TO DIRECT FIDELIO!) But more importantly, vastly, he reconnected my operatic DNA to my musical theatre DNA and allowed me to realize how I had ignored my musical theatre background while pursuing classical music. This ultimately led me to Ithaca College, btw.

Oh -- Michael's second in command was the operatic prodigy Karen Tiller. We were put together as the artistic team for Opera Memphis' The Turn of the Screw and loved working together. Later Karen would hire me to be the Music Director for the Opera Festival of New Jersey for which she was the general director at the ripe old age of 16. Okay, maybe not 16, she was in her 20s I bet. 

In New Jersey I got to conduct Bartok's Bluebeard's Castle. BLUEBEARD'S FREAKING CASTLE!! My favourite one act of all time! In Hungarian! With the players of the Chamber Orchestra of Philadelphia! And did I get a good review? I got a freaking awesome review from a Pulitzer prize-winning critic that used the phrase "pyschosexual angst" in a sentence talking about my conducting! 

And, in New Jersey I learned about treachery first hand; but that's not part of this blog, that'll be part of my book.

BUT back to the present day -- Here we are now in 2015, I'm living in Ontario, Canada, still teaching at McGill and still freelancing down in the states. After years at Ithaca College and lots of summers at Brevard and a few daring, daunting years at Florida Grand Opera, I'm returning to conducting this January. It'll happen at the end of January, 2016 -- Opera McGill's production of L'elisir d'amore in Pollack Hall. I'll be sure to blog about that process, and it's being webcast in HD so anyone reading this blog can watch it.

So, as promised -- the Secret To My Success!

We have to go way back to the summer of 1984. There I was, pouring a gin and tonic for the director of the DMMO apprentice program, Stewart Robertson. I was at DMMO because of LUCK. I got the job this way -- I was playing a voice lesson for a student of Doug Duncan, DMMO's general director, and he said something like "you wear nice clothes, how would you like to work at my opera company?" "Um… sure… I guess…"

So I was a house staff member for DMMO that summer (hearing my first Nozze, Dialogues des Caremlites, and AIDA!) answering phones, sharpening pencils for bitchy NY coaches, taking notes at Dr Larsen's feet during orchestra rehearsals, moving xerox machines and pianos on and off trucks, and tending the bar in the lobby of the theatre. But I also tended bar for private receptions and I found myself speaking with the wondrous Stewart Robertson.

Back to Stewart and his Gin and Tonic -- Stewart, in his very dashing Scottish brogue asked me if I was a student at Simpson. I said "yes." He asked if I was a singer. I said "no, not really, although I do sing, I'm a pianist." Then we talked a bit, I don't remember anything specific. I do remember saying to him something about how I loved playing Trouble in Tahiti in high school and how I loved playing Hansel and Gretel my Freshmen year but that there were too many notes and how frustrating piano reductions were. I was desperately trying to say something that was impressive.

Stewart's a nice guy, but he had people to see. So he ended our little talk with this nugget: He leaned in and said "Next time, don't try to play all the notes; just be careful to choose which notes to leave out." And he turned and walked away. There should have been mist. He disappeared into the mist. I sort of remember the moment with mist...

That's the secret. Don't try to play all the notes.

I've left out hundreds of thousands, if not millions of notes over the years. There's simply no way to play them all. That's been my secret.

But I'm not just talking about notes on the piano, or notes in an operatic score. There are other notes.

These notes are all around you. They are distractions to learning your craft. They are ugly people in your face saying ugly things to you or about you. They are your inner demons keeping you from focusing on your dreams. They are also your family, the people who love you, the people you love. They are the wonder of the world and its beauty. These notes connect us all to the past and give life to the present. They speak to the future as well - where we might go, what we might become. It is so important to remember that they are not all equal, these notes. 

Let some of them go. Forget about them, just as your right hand forgets about playing all of the octaves in a Verdi cabaletta. Let the bad notes go, for sure, because they don't belong in your opera anyway. Embrace the notes that give you purpose, that give you strength, harmony, and a backbone of rhythmic drive to get things done. 

Learn as many notes as you can, but know that you will not learn all of the notes. It is impossible. Even our operatic idols dropped a few, or more likely a million. Absolutely.

So go out and work on your CRAFT as an INDIVIDUAL. Then go out and share that art with others in your FIELD. Gravitate to those who are positive influences and those who help others become successful, or at least help them along the way. When you get to a Gate, say YES and know that you are ready to move forward.

And most importantly, don't forget to help as many others as you can. 

But most of all, learn to pour a really good Gin and Tonic. Be generous with the Gin, make sure the tonic is fresh, not too much ice, and the lime: juicy.