My relationship with opera music has been somewhat ambiguous. The reasons were plenty, the most important of them being that I've been an opera singer for a major part of my life. I grew up listening to this kind of music. Later I had studied it, loved it, lived it.
Yet, I have never regretted my decision not to pursue this career.
"Don't look back!" was a motto I lived by.
Although I hadn't stopped singing altogether, I rigorously cut back on it. For a long time I did my best to avoid music theatres. Apparently it was way too close to home and I was at home.
Now I'm cautiously groping my way back to the path I once explored with such fervour, it nearly destroyed me.
I took it easy at the beginning: went to some recitals, took a couple of lessons again, and worked on technically tricky things– just for myself, without any pressure from outside.
Last year in September I ventured out to Metropolitan's Lucia di Lammermoor". It was great, yet I left feeling uneasy: my throat felt tight as if I had spent tree hours competing with Natalie Dessay. In my mind I stood on the stage again, carefully forming tones and phrases, reliving something I always aspired, but never came really close enough to. I was taken back with surprise and also annoyance.
I guess I wasn't ready then.
But Sunday afternoon I went to small theatre in the neighbour town to hear Giulio Cesare in Egitto.
It was a nice performance with a superb young singer, from whom I'm sure we'll be hearing a lot more in the future.
And for the very first time in ages I thoroughly enjoyed it.
At last I was just a spectator.
I guess I've moved on.
Here is an (unfortunately) curtailed vesion of " V'adoro, pupille", sung by the one and the only Tatiana Troyanos.
Why the fuck?
5 weeks ago