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Changing Your Mind

Thinking a lot about revisions. Preparing the talk on Tancredi for Washington Concert Opera, looking at the wildly different ending Rossini wrote for the second production. In short, the premiere opted for a happy ending, one that focus groups, had they existed in the early 19th century, would’ve surely approved. Certainly it was what audiences

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Vitamin D

Spring at last. At least for today. I’m not a sun worshipper – my northern European bloodlines don’t allow me to last long out there. But a small dose on a March afternoon was just what the doctor ordered. Lowering My Standards When I started blogging, I was told that you can spot the newbies

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Technology as Metaphor

“This server is currently experiencing a problem. An engineer has been notified and will investigate.” I haven’t posted since Sunday and was starting to feel seriously negligent, but my desperate midnight attempt to blog was met by “server problems.” It’s a Sign.An omen. A metaphor for the rest of my life at the moment. The

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Here We Go Again

Audition comments are back. Mostly because blogging is taking a back seat to my actual work, on which I am woefully and almost irretrievably behind. Photo at the left from a break during Friday’s chorus auditions, which went very well, thank you! Comments are excerpted but unedited, randomized so that they’re anonymized. (I know that’s

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Aviaries and Tuning Forks

Maybe it was turning the calendar over to March that did it. But it’s all about the birds today. The robins have come back to the bird feeder outside my office window. The cardinal that spent the entire winter bashing himself against said window has mysteriously and thankfully moved on. And the woodpecker that marks

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"Young" Artists

Fresh from Friday’s Discovery Series solo recital by Cliburn Silver Medalist Joyce Yang. It’s going to take me weeks to get up the nerve to touch the piano again. Kidding, of course, but this young woman did give us an evening of music to remember. Bach both passionate and transparent, Romantic barn-burners (no pun intended;

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Exit Right

Prior to this winter, I’ve only blogged during the high-drama portions of our annual cycle – namely, the summer performing season and the autumn audition tour. The idea to continue writing throughout this winter was born of a desire to provide some continuity and to demonstrate how critical the rest of our operation is. You

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Warsaw

Once again, the Sunday New York Times was a source of amusement and amazement, this time in the form of James Oestreich’s diagram for Finta giardiniera. After all of these years of embarrassment over my anal-retentive plot and character diagrams, I can finally hold my head high, knowing I’m in distinguished company. I’ve been working

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These people would love a good wipeout.

Somehow, the confluence of the Olympics, American Idol, and my bedside reading now makes sense. I was reminded a few weeks ago that I hadn’t yet dug into Richard Powers’ Time of Our Singing, in spite of the fact that it’s been on my shelf now for a couple of years. I think it was

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Flooding Therapy

I mentioned a few days ago that one potential response to critical audition feedback is Flooding Therapy. An oversimplified definition: Take whatever frightens you and immerse yourself in it until it loses its power. This afternoon brought a new application for flooding when the beautiful bag of Valentine candy (sent by one of our most

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