Ramblings on moisturizer

Clinque All about eyes: one of the best investments a girl can make. Lol! And at under $30 bucks, it's not that bad considering all you need is a teeny-tiny bit for each eye!

I'm in love with this thing. Seriously.

Rablings on one of my dad's quotes - Rule #47

Stellan Skarsgård as Gregor 1998's Ronin, one of my favourite films

Dad's Rule #47: "Watch out for the quiet ones."

Meaning: Don't worry too much about the ones that boast about what they know or what they can do. Keep them in your radar but they rarely prove themselves as a threat. The ones that you should concern yourself with are the ones that are quiet. You know, the sort that don't say much, keep to themselves and always observe from the corner. Why? Because you never know what they're thinking. They're unassuming, polite and low-key... until they're not.

The character Gregor in the film Ronin is a great example. Team player, helpful but unimposing, follows the rules... until he caps half a dozen people and double crosses his entire team and three countries. Okay, fine, that's a bit extreme and totally fictional but seriously. People get hit in the back of the head (figuratively and/or literally) by the one person they never thought would even dream to harm them.

Sounds paranoid, does it? You'll thank me later! ;)

Ramblings on Learning an Opera Role - Part III AKA Ramblings on Rossini's charms

My homeboy!

I'm a huge fan of mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato. No, really. I'm a HUGE fan. I want to be like this woman so much. I own ever CD she ever recorded and I literally cried when I couldn't make it to her performance as Rosina in the LA Opera's production of The Barber of Seville. I'm still really bummed I couldn't go...

But anyways! She's also brilliant when it comes to photography and has a link to her flickr page on her blog (and yes, her blog is seriously titled Yankeediva. Isn't it awesome??). Midst the beautiful pictures of European architecture and gorgeous red and gold performance halls, I came across a low-key picture in her gratitude album.

The picture is of a quote said by one of the stage directors at the Lyric Opera of Chicago, Thor Steingraber. Someone had typed it up and posted on a bulletin board in the rehearsal department. The quote was this:

"I'd like Rossini better if there were more repetition."

I quite literally laughed out loud at this! Rossini is the king of repetition. Hands down. I'm sure the cast members of our Spring opera production La Cambiale di Matrimonio would all agree with me on this. It's not enough that he loads his music with tongue twistery words from the libretto; he makes us sing it over and over again, faster and faster with more spunk that we knew we had in us!

I think this is one of the great beauties of Rossini. He challenges us to be creative. We, as singers, are forced to come up with something new, different and exciting each time a musical theme or the same words are repeated again and again. We're forced to look beyond the external, seemingly mundane repetition and figure out why our characters would say it more than once.

The best Rossini singers know how to make every repetition count-- how to make each one special and meaningful. There's nothing more frustrating when I'm listening to a recording or watching a performance than a singer who just trudges through the repeats like a kid being forced to eat his/her peas and broccoli. It really shouldn't sound like a chore!

Rossini is a joy and a true privilege to sing. "Medicine for the voice" as the late and great Beverley Sills once said about Bel Canto. I'm constantly reminded when I listen to great Bel Canto singers such as Beverly Sills, Joan Sutherland, Juan Diego Florez and Joyce DiDonato that we must savour every word and phrase and make each of them a little gem of their own!

P.S. Puccini might have hated mezzos but Rossini actually preferred mezzos over sopranos. :P

Ramblings on one of my dad's quotes

Dad's Rule #29: "Think like a lawyer."

Meaning: Think about all the different aspects you can of a situation in order to be ready for anything. The good attorneys think about both sides to figure out counterarguments before they ever set foot in a courtroom.

Ramblings on the upcoming holiday!

I'd like to leave my heart here this time.

So, it seems my dad has been organizing a family holiday to San Francisco! And, unlike last time, it won't be with a travel service. Oh lawd, that was miserable. I felt like a herd of cattle. And the tour guide was this Korean guy who "used to be" an English teacher before he emigrated... and he had his American history ALL wrong. I'm a history geek so it really, really bugged me.

A few things that I've learned from the last time I was there:

- It's freezing so take warm clothing.
- No, seriously. It's freakin' cold.
- The clam chowder at Boudin's is possibly the best thing on Earth.
- Alcatraz is badass. I should've done a walking tour.
- Don't eat Chinese food from that one place the tour guide took us. It was atrocious.
- Don't buy souvenirs from that one store near Pier 39. It was a bloody rip off.
- Take motion sickness pills with you.

That's it for now. I'll be taking my Macbook with me on the trip along with my camera so expect a few new pictures on my flickr stream. :D

Ciao!

Ramblings on Happiness - Part I

("Being happy doesn't mean everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond its imperfections." ~Unknown)

It seems that I'm feeling rather philosophical today. Philosophical about happiness. Which is rare, mind you. The moment someone asks me or I ask myself whether or not I'm happy is precisely the moment I become unhappy. Dwelling on thoughts of what life ought to be is pointless and frankly exhausting! But, once in a while, sifting through that corner of your mind is healthy and cathartic.

When I was younger, my dad told me something that I had ignored until just a few years ago. It seems to happen to me a lot, doesn't it-- ignoring my dad's wisdom then realising what a fool I was for not noticing it's value!

I had come home from a day of hopeful, scientific "one day's" at school. One day, we'll cure cancer. One day, AIDS will be a thing of the past. One day, world peace will be realised. One day, world hunger will cease to exist. Then we divulged into what had to be done; theoretical speculations. It was quite an educational afternoon about what we hoped to be our bright and shining future.

So, naturally, I brought this up during dinner. He said to me, "Rachel," in a resigned sigh-like voice. "We're tiny. We're nothing."

At the time I just thought it was him talking about us (human beings) in relation to God; which, is indeed, a formidable comparison. I don't think this was a wrong interpretation. We are, in fact, teeny-tiny compared to the Almighty Lord. We are, indeed, nothing compared to His majesty (yet loved and cherished by Him. What grace!).

But what I came to understand a few years ago was this: accepting this fact is the key to happiness.

What he wanted me to remember was that out lives are merely a blip in the grand time line of this Universe. Even the greatest deeds accomplished by mankind are simply pin pricks. My dad didn't mean that we aren't capable of great things. We are quite capable with the help of God. He didn't mean don't try. We must try. We owe it to God to do so. He didn't mean that life is inherently pointless. Our point in life is to serve the Lord in whatever way he wishes.

What he was saying was that once you build in front of yourself twenty Everests, you will 1) be unhappy and 2) never achieve your goals. Tiny people take tiny steps. Once you attempt to take giant steps, you'll rip your pants.

'Get rid of that chip on your shoulder because you're not important enough to have one' is essentially what my dad was saying. Realise how little and unimportant you are. Surrender yourself to greatness of reality and be content with what 'little' you were designed to do. Know that whatever you end up accomplishing through this humbling realisation is more than what the other, arrogant people have tried and failed at.

I'm not under the delusion that I'll change this world with my life. I'll touch a few lives and I pray everyday that the lives I touch will be influenced for the better. If, in the end, the world decides that I did change it for the better, that's just icing on the cake.

Changing the world isn't up to me, you or any mortal being. It's up to God.

I hope this didn't sound like some sort of cop-out because I didn't mean it that way. Thinking yourself as too important is, apart from being a symptom of narcissism, a recipe for unhappiness. That is all.

Thoughts? Comments? Dissent? I'm game!

-R

Ramblings on Natalie's Post

(The stage at The Royal Opera House. Gorgeous, isn't it? I will sing on it one day... I swear it!)

This is a response post to a post my friend Natalie made. Hopefully it'll make sense to even those you haven't seen her post.

There are two ways I see this: in a religious and non-religious way. Both of which, I feel, are relavant and necessary in seeing this in an objective light.

First, the non-religious.

Call me a cynic but I'm a firm believer in this: people do things because of selfish reasons. Selfishness isn't bad at all if it brings out good things in us, no? the people who go over to foreign countries and leave everything behind to tend to the sick, the poor and the dying do it because it makes them feel good. Sure the flies, mosquitoes and crappy food suck but they know what they're doing is changing something for the better; ergo, it makes them feel good; ergo, they do it. Now, I don't say this to minimize their sacrifice or make it any less significant. I merely wish to point out what I feel to be the truth of the human condition: We're selfish little bastards who do great, amazing things that create beauty and spread love through the world in order to quench out thirst for fulfillment.

Where it's building orphanages or screaming Tosca at the top of your lungs for three hours, it really is all the same. Does it fulfill you? Are you doing something good for the people around you? Are those people influenced positively by what you do? If your answer is 'yes,' it doesn't matter whether or not you're doing something for selfish reasons.

Now, the religious.

If you're doing what God called you to do, whether it seem selfish or not, you're doing God's work. And God's work is never selfish. Why? Because, then, you're a tool, an instrument. An instrument is never selfish. It merely does what it was made to do. It is inherently incapable of being selfish. When was the last time you saw a violin say to itself, "Bloody hell! What I do is selfish and unimportant! I'd rather be a defibrillator in a hospital because saving lives is more important than squeaking out Tchaikovsky all day"?

You and I, we're His instruments in more ways than one. Every note we sing, every step we take as we walk on stage into the blinding stage lights, every role we learn is an offering. Whether we're singing sacred music or Rossini, it's an offering, a living sacrifice, a testament to his mercy and unbound grace-- of what He can do with absolute rubbish like us. As long as we don't forget this, we're not selfish. Selfish in the sense that we love and enjoy what we do? Sure. Absolutely. But selfish in the sense that what we do is all for us and no one else? Of course not. We do it for our audiences. Much like looking at a breathtaking piece of art or tasting an amazing dish. That feeling you get when you look at a Bernini sculpture or a Van Gogh painting-- the feeling of breathlessness and standing there slack-jawed and dribbling, gasping out a senseless 'Oh, my God'... that's all because you saw a glimpse of God. Beauty is an earthly interpretation of God. It's the highest form of praise. And artists? We're the makers of that beauty. Thus, artists are conduits between the ugly mortal world and the unimaginable, unfathomable beauty of the divine. We translate, with our gifts, in what ways we can, the absolute and all-consuming wonder of God. Some through a paintbrush and some through their voices.

Musicians bring entire concert halls full of people just a little closer to God. And, i that sense, we're not just singers; we're Angels.

So, don't think for a moment that what you do is any less important than what anybody else does. Dont' think for a second that you're not serving God by studying music!

Well, that was by two cents. Thoughts? Comments? Dissent? I'd love 'em all!

-R

Ramblings on Learning an Opera Role - Part II

"Do it right or don't do it at all."
"You're never really done with anything you start."
"There so such thing as over-preparation."

(I've been hearing those three quotes from my dad since I was a little girl. Those along with dozens more that I've been writing down lately. The list is seriously about a mile long!)

Just a few more things I've been realising as I learn new music.

In learning anything, it's not completely learned until you can do it perfectly at any given time.

I test myself by going over music at random times. That one line or phrase that I thought I had down cold? I make myself sing it right after I wake up or when I'm waiting for my toast or tea. If I can't do it perfectly on the first try, I need more practice. Completely mastery of the music is so crucial in opera because once you get to rehearsals, music should be second nature so you can concentrate on staging, acting and your character. Singing your role should be like breathing by the time you're done. I'm getting there and it's really exciting!

Also, if I can't hear all the other characters' music in my head while I sing my own, I need more work. And in that sense, I'm not just learning my part; I'm learning everyone else's as well.

Wow, I didn't realise how obsessive I am with this until I read what I just wrote down! I guess I did adopt a few work ethics from my dad after all.

Anyways! That's it for now. Back to practicing!

Ramblings on cameras Part deux

Okay, fine. My camera doesn't suck TOO much.