It's all so NEW!

I've been taking lessons from Kris Ciesinski this summer... and I'm amazed at how much we've accomplished in just 5 lessons. What I've realized is that I don't know ANYTHING. How did she say it? "It's not that you have BAD technique, you just don't HAVE technique." So I'm back at square one. It's what I've been looking for this summer... returning to instinct... returning to the beginning and starting fresh.

The rest of this is music mumbo jumbo that I've been learning... if you're interested... read on. These are just mini lists of things I've learned. It doesn't even begin to touch the change it's made in my concept of sound. 

The Three Rules of Successful Singing

1 - The secret of singing is keeping the diaphragm engaged. 

2 - The goal of singing is consistency. 

3 - The mastery of singing is air flow. 

The Steps of Learning a Song 

1- Understand your Context (era, composer, lyricist, larger work, where in the opera you are, what's happening on stage, observe the musical markings). 

2 - Understand the Language (poetic, literal, emotional, IPA and the symbolic language of the music, also begin speaking the text in an imitative style). 

3 - Learn the music (first - rhythm. second - register and notes. Third - rhythm, register, notes and language). 

4 - Memorize (If previous steps are followed, it should practically learn itself). 

5 - Polish (staging, body movements, performance practices). 

Your diaphragm is a muscle. Just like when you lift weights, for the most effective use of your muscles, move them slowly and consistency in "eccentric firing" of your muscles. The muscles between your ribs are called intercostals. They also are able to be controlled. The ribcage should ALWAYS BE EXPANDED WHEN SINGING. Collapsing the ribcage when expelling air indicates the diaphragm is not engaged.  Abdominal breathing doesn't exist. We don't breathe with our abdomen. We breathe with our lungs. Our abdomen moves when breathe with our lungs indicating movement of the diaphragm and a change in the volume of our lung capacity. 

Our bodies are instruments. Singing takes the acuity and practice of a string player. LIKE ALL INSTRUMENTS THAT DON'T JUST PLAY PARTIALS, Shape must accommodate pitch. Instruments change pitch with physiological changes, your voice is the same. The greatest range of effective motion can be achieved by moving the jaw and tongue, NOT THE SOFT PALATE OR LARYNX. 

YAWNING does not imitate the feeling of a lifted soft palate. Instead, talking like you have a plugged nose is actually a lifted palate. Want proof? A lifted soft palate will block air from escaping the nose. 

Consistent sound WILL NOT FEEL CONSISTENT INSIDE. What you hear is completely different from what's produced. Often people over-darken sound because they like to hear a round sound in their Eustachian tubes. Hearing is not entirely reliable. FEELING is reliable. 

Singing Opera is not as natural as breathing... Singing opera is like pole vaulting. A complex, physically demanding activity, made of natural movements. 

The woman's voice can be separated into 4 registers: Chest, Low-Mid, Passagio and Head Voice. Each register has a distinct feel. 

- Chest: will be shallow and come from chest. 

- Low-Mid: will be bright, forward, WIDE (accomplished by widening lips, not raising them) and shallow inside the mouth. 

- Passagio: will be round sound, round more open mouth, CORE, every half step will seem larger than in  lower ranges. 

- Head Voice: will have NO core. Don't feel the core. Don't hear the core. But it's there, outside of your head. 

Now...   keep in mind, all of this has happened in the context of lessons. I've tried to best write what I've understood and what's working in my brain. I'm sure that teachers before have said these things... I'm sure I just wasn't listening or having problems interpreting what they were trying to say, or lacked the tools to interpret it.

But these are the things that are helping me "open my sound." I've been told that I've sounded "trapped" or like I'm "holding back," after I've tried and tried and tried... thinking that there's nothing trapped, I'm giving EVERYTHING.

Maybe they'll help you. Maybe you had to be there. Either way... that's what I've been working on. :)

Editing...

Most of you know I'm working on another blog, the ISU blog. I'm about going crazy because I have to go through an editing process. I'm quite positive that I would be writing more if I didn't have to. It makes it very difficult to be the "cynical student" when I'm told I can't say certain things or that the blog needs to be "fun." Sometimes it's not fun being a student and I think to say otherwise is a downright lie.

Then there's this blog... where I feel like I have to edit to prevent worry or obsession or offending or being misquoted or being plagiarized by music peers and family. Man, Nanette, life sure is tough. I've been thinking of creating a completely anonymous blog... hmmm or a JOURNAL. I just get tired of feel like I have to create something semi-artificial in order to avoid making waves. Is leaving out information still being honest? I'm in a transitional place and I just don't feel like it being watched... but I understand it's important to document, at the very least for myself. 

Now, before you freak out (mom). I'm happy. I'm enjoying my two jobs. One allows me to watch netflix. One allows me to be creative... to an extent. It's been very challenging to do my work and then detach and hand it over for editing - movies and blogs alike. I keep telling myself that nothing is perfect. The only thing constant is change. If I want to be an "artist", take constructive criticism. I remind myself that my job is to create, it's the editor's job to edit. So don't worry about self-editing (as it severely impedes ability to let go) and let the editor do their job. 

This summer has been revolutionary as it's the first summer I didn't have to unwind and teach myself to relax. I've been so good at enjoying doing nothing that the current struggle is getting myself in motion. Writing, singing, drawing...   I get to return to those things now. I'm taking a summer reading break. Last summer's 36 books were plenty enough for a little while. Though it makes me feel guilty that I'm known as "the reader" and this far into the summer, I've only read facebook status updates and the first 10 pages of a David Sedaris book.

loves, Nanette

A Boise Weekend...

Well, I made it to Boise this past weekend. I stayed at Gma Ison's. I love that as soon as you walk into her house you know where you are. Even after a couple floods in the basement and getting some floors redone, grandma's house still smells like grandma's house... Like years of good cooking and hard work.

Grandma is now 96 years old. She has...
- lived through breast cancer
- lived through a recent hip replacement.
- out-lived her husband.
- stayed in her own home (with some assistance).
- lived through wars, Iraq, WWII and some of WWI.
- lived through the depression.
- raised six daughters.
- buried one.
- sat in a room, thus enabling four generations to be in one place.
- done everything by hand, quilts, clothing, cooking, farming, decorating, moving, building.

She's lived quite a life already...  it's a shame that she's starting to forget. we had conversations three times in a row on a couple of occasions. Other times she was very surprised to see me in the room and asked how the travel was after I'd stayed there over night already. She's left the bathtub running. However, at 96, I still feel like these are all very small things.

She's still pretty capable of conversation. She asks questions that make sense. I told her I'm moving to NY next June. She wanted to make sure I had contacts out there... that I've been saving money... that I have contacts out there... are they from your neck of the woods? how do you know them? do you have contacts out there? Do you have a job? How do you get a job? do you have contacts? Are they from your neck of the woods?

I'm not a very patient person. I'll own that. So this weekend was a little difficult. On top of the repetitive questions, her hearing is less than pristine. Mom lost her voice shouting after the first day. I'm sure that Grandma knows how frustrating it can be for those talking... because after you repeat yourself a couple times... she'll nod and pretend like she understands and knows what you've said.

By the third day I had run into cousins, Emma, Chanel, Arielle. They offered much solace from the constant reminder that my amazing grandma is slowly deteriorating.

By the fourth day of Boise, my face had erupted. The tooth that's broke a little while ago got infected in a bad way. I had an amazingly swollen jaw for many of the photos taken. I took a couple pills of the stronger sort from a person who shall not be named...   and it got me through until I could get back to pocatello.

On monday, Uncle Kevin had called in a favor from a local dentist for penicillin and a painkiller. Problem was, they called it into a pharmacy that was now closed for memorial day. So I took another two pills of the stronger sort and floated home in the car. I contacted my childhood dentist and he called in a prescription for me to walgreens in pocatello and I finally got put on some antibiotics.

Tuesday...   I got a phone call from the family dentistry place... they could squeeze me in. An emergency visit will cost $100. So I had to pick up my paycheck first. I went to the cashier's office like normal. They said that my check had been sent to the registrar as per request. I sure didn't request it...   I'm on the verge of tears, very painful tears, not ready to have the campus run around on top of this cartoonishly swollen jaw. After the mini breakdown in the registrar's office, someone comes out to tell me that yes, they have my check. They were trying to get payroll to re-release my check after they tacked on another $200 for singing the national anthem for graduation. Originally, that was not a paid gig. Apparently they liked what they heard, if they're willing to pay for it... stingy ISU is willingly separating with non-contracted money! :)

Anyway... dentist...   I wound up opting to have this troublesome tooth pulled. So yesterday I was a swollen, high, mess. Today...   I'm just swollen and high. I'm sure glad they gave me those pain killers though. I'm looking at getting a bridge put in later this summer.

Stress be gone!

I am so excited for this semester, nay, year to be done. My immediate reflections...  

Giving up choir president... feels like a burden has been lifted. The year always starts out so well. So motivated. Camp is the most satisfying organizational experience of the whole position. It's setting up the year by creating community... or a choir family. But as the year goes on, drama happens, people segregate into different groups, people get unhappy, people start siding on issues... eventually the family feeling disappears. It's so hard to be neutral. That's a pressure that comes from myself, nowhere else. Neutrality... needing to be beige so that other people can express their thoughts and opinions, so you can represent them or try to understand them. Needing to see the "problem" from empathetic angles in efforts to resolve. Sounds complicated? It is. Also, it is not my problem anymore. I don't have to care. I don't have to be anything for anyone anymore... the social lubricant, the offerer of apologies, the organizer, the leader... and that is LOVELY.

Giving up choir... is an unexpected relief. No more lunchtimes practicing chamber parts. No more part tests. No more choir dresses. No more worrying about blending. No more irritability about egos. No more being a disappointment as a poor sight reader. I will regain at least 7.5 hours a week. I will miss it, I'm sure, when the next choir concert comes. It was the cause of much of my musical growth. It was a place for expression. It was a place for imagination. It was a place for inspiration.

I am an expired gallon of milk, sitting in our musical fridge. I'm useless. I need to be tossed. I need out.

The music faculty has offered me great opportunities. They've taught me a lot and I'm sure there's a lot more I can learn from them. But it is time to move on. To find my next inspiration. To find the next place to land and make a life for myself.

These words from our last masterclass resound "You must remain teachable." I haven't been very good about that. I have built up the worth of my own opinion...   beyond what it should be. I have closed my mind. I have stopped being detail-oriented. And while I want to call this life being cyclical...  I worry that this negativity has stuck. This summer, I need to correct some erroneous patterns in thinking. Find love for everyone and find a way to express it genuinely.

So often we reflect what we're surrounded by. I worry that I've contributed to the negativity of an entire department. I can only hope that the next place that I find myself... I can be a rock instead of a mirror. I can take a crappy situation and make it work for me. I can productively change my world in a positive manner and let go of the negative people, thoughts, and habits.

And with all the business going on...   5 more credits next fall and I'm done! Wahoo!!!   But for now...I'll get back to work.

Until Further Notice...

I'm still in Idaho. NYC is absolutely where I want to be right now. This is no secret. If you know me and are reading this, you've probably heard all the adventures and heard my laments upon returning to Idaho.

I left...
... feeling wanted.
... feeling talented.
... feeling that dreams are within reach.
... feeling fresh and invigorated.
... diversity.
... good shopping.
... the ability to live independently without a car.
... a job offer.

I returned to...
... an unfinished degree.
... a shitty relationship.
... a community that doesn't value the same things that I do.
... financial responsibility (thoughts of student loans).
... the dissatisfaction with my academic situation from the prior semester (have to take form AGAIN).

Is it a wonder that every morning I have to give myself a motivational speech? One day closer to graduation, Nanette. Do your homework and you can go to NYC. Get your recital done and you're one step closer to moving. If you don't buy this... you can put that money into a savings for moving.

Enjoy where you are while you have it. Enjoy the cheap cost of living. Enjoy the personal space. Enjoy not having a housemate. Enjoy the friends. Enjoy the safety. Enjoy the quietude. Enjoy the mountains. Enjoy the stars. Enjoy living this close to family. Enjoy the last moments of "student life" before entering the "real world" you've been so warned about.


I cannot wait to return to the "real world." Full of work. Full of responsibilities. Full of new challenges. Full of new stories. Full of adventure. Full of different.

Bull McCabe's - an great little pub on the east side.

Street view of the Met Opera House... maybe soon there will be backstage photos to show. 

Values.

I keep having this discussion. I dare say it's become a universal theme. "If you don't believe in a specific religion, nanette... what do you believe in?"


I believe in honesty. I believe in being the kind of person you want to be around. I believe in not contributing to world suck. I believe in being respectful of other's boundaries, decisions and ideas, even if I don't agree with them. 


honest |ˈänist|adjectivefree of deceit and untruthfulness; sincere : I haven't been totally honest with you.• morally correct or virtuous : I did the only right and honest thing.• [ attrib. ] fairly earned, esp. through hard work : struggling to make an honest living.• (of an action) blameless or well intentioned even if unsuccessful or misguided : he'd made an honest mistake.• [ attrib. ] simple, unpretentious, and unsophisticated : good honest food with no gimmicks.
I'm quite liberal in the idea of what is right and wrong. I have my own opinions about things. I understand that not everyone has the same view. I express myself and can be at peace even if no one else agrees with me. I can listen to others and weigh what they say and make my own decisions. I like having the security of having weighed each of these values to my own liking and finding security in my own moral code. 
I find that most religions don't disagree. "Love thy neighbor as thyself," and "Reap what you sew," in Christianity. Karma, the law of causation, in Buddhism. "The Oneness of Humanity," says Islam. Even science says "for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." 
What we do. How we handle conflict. How we treat one another. OUR CHOICES AND ACTIONS AFFECT OTHER PEOPLE. We each have the opportunity to make that positive or negative. However, it's very difficult to always see into the future HOW these decisions will come to fruition. So instead of predict...   (predetermination forces people unfairly into boxes) one can only make decisions with clear intent. Look inward. What is the motivating emotion or feeling? I try to make my decisions based on positive (purely subjective to each person's beliefs) motivations... I like to believe that's what we all do. 
I like to believe that people do not maliciously meddle or try to cause problems intentionally. I like to think that when I've been offended, that was not the intent of the offender, for how often, REALLY, do we make decisions with the intent to hurt another person. I try to extend empathy, or sympathy, to those that I've had conflict with, only to hope that I'm offered that in return. Mother's wisdom, "you'll always hate what you don't understand." 
I might not subscribe to a specific religious set of beliefs. But in my definition of good and bad people...   is that a good person does not aim to be venomous... and does not aim to belittle another ... or tear someone down for the sake of vindication. A good person lives life in a way that is beneficial for themselves and tries to minimize their negative output into the world. 
So let's all try to get along. Play nice. Be honest. Be Empathetic. Maybe be a little more open-minded. And accept the consequences of our actions with humility enough to admit when we were wrong, and have courage enough to stand up for our opinions and bravery enough to apologize when it's needed. 
Utmost sincerity,Nanette

Life in many parts...

Part one. Dad.

I love my dad. Really do. Which is why I was absolutely furious to hear that after he broke his foot, he wasn't following doctors orders, he was putting weight on the damaged appendage... and why I was absolutely furious to hear that his diabetes is so out of control (checked into the E.R. with a blood sugar count of 400). Okay... I'm not really mad. I'm something. But I don't know what it is yet. I'm concerned. I'm expecting some radical changes soon. He could be losing a foot... amputation. But this is all potential. Teetering on the brink of a family disaster.

Part two. Apathy Monster.

The Apathy Monster hides in the corners of your life... and when things are going downhill (lawyer guy, dad, social life, grades, etc) and you really need to get your priorities straight THAT is when the Apathy Monster pounces. Kicked while you're down. Hopeless to fight. And once the Apathy Monster has you, it devours you. At that point... no matter how much kicking and screaming and ranting and raving and punching and protesting you do, it's all fruitless.

I'm in the belly of the beast. Homework is piling up. Music to learn. Papers to write. Stuff to analyze. Favors to complete. I haven't been here for a couple years. I hope that this Apathy Monster has been eating it's fiber and I will exit naturally and quickly.

It was purely luck that dear friend, Z, saw me get eaten by the monster. He's been whispering encouragement from the outside.

Part three. Creativity.

The Art in me has died... well maybe it's just in critical condition, a coma? Partially due to Part Two, however, could entirely be rut-ville. Trying to get out of rut-ville. Trying to step away from the formulas. Trying to step away from what I know. Trying to not try? It's not really working. But I'm quite sure it's almost time for Thanksgiving Break. It might not happen soon enough to save The Art. Hang in there. I hope it's a coma... and when it comes to, it will see that I waited for it this entire time.

Renana Kishon (L) poses next to an art installation depicting former Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon lying comatose in a hospital bed before it's official opening at her gallery in Tel Aviv October 18, 2010.

Part four. Editing.

Life is too short to be constantly editing. I'm guilty of this even here. Where no one is reading. Constantly riddled by the most clever way to be vague, instead of saying exactly what I mean. Shall practice that, must unlearn this bad habit.

Done for now, Loves,
Nanette