freelance life

He Lives in You (06/24/11)

from The Lion King

Today we have a very practical song-of-the-day - I have to play this on Sunday for a rehearsal workshop. An unsuspecting group of travelers who have tickets to see the show will be coming to this workshop. Someone from the show (usually a member of the ensemble) will be there to teach an excerpt of choreography from the show, and I will teach the vocals.

***Note 6/30 - I ended up doing two of these workshops. The first was a group of high schoolers from Australia. The second was a group of bankers, most of whom were from South Africa or Zimbabwe. Yeah. I taught Swahili to Africans. What!?!?!?

Flowers, Chocolates, and Booze

Tonight was the final concert for a chorus I play for. Before the concert, the conductor winked and indicated the bottle of liqueur she'd slipped into my bag. After the concert, the choir members presented me with a box of chocolates and an enormous bunch of red and white roses.

It was a pretty casual concert - dress code all-black with just a hint of bling.  On this side of town, a few blocks east of the theater district, people don't immediately take me for a performer. Lone passersby shot me looks of envy; happy couples nodded and all-but-cooed (gross) in knowing comprehension. Two teenage girls on the subway kept pointing and eyeing my humongous bouquet until I finally assured them:

"Oh, this isn't from a boy, it's from a performance."

"Do you dance?" asked one of the girls.

I explained I was a pianist. "But it's fun to pretend they're from a boy. And the keep the riff-raff away while I'm shopping." And, wouldn't you know it, all three of us mimed holding the flowers out like a cruxifix.

Who says there are no perks to being a musician?


Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack!!!

Newly reinstated Don't Panic reminder
Two minutes later...
That is the sound my brain makes when I have to learn music quickly.  Actually, it used to be my inner monologue anytime I played music, because it never felt secure.  Fun thing about not having technique.  But since I've been working on it, the panic only sets in when I have to learn something really fast. 

Yesterday, I had to learn a couple scenes from a new opera for a last-minute rehearsal gig I picked up.  Because of that, I have to play catch-up on Ray Charles today, because, heaven help us, Arthur and I are going to record tonight.  Ack ack ack ack ack!

The problem with "ack ack ack ack ack" is that the panic gets into your muscle memory, and while music may sound frenetic, it should never feel frenetic to play it.  A few months ago, I printed out an image of "Don't Panic" from Hitchhiker's Guide and taped it to my piano.  Then Diesel ate it.  He's also a fan of post-its and corrugated cardboard, though not so fond of veal cat food which is the only flavor carried by the ghetto bodega next door.  I ask you, who feeds veal to kittens??!!? (It was a cat food emergency.)

But I digress.

I was pretty happy with my work yesterday - I stopped panicking long enough to get it semi-under-my-fingers, and to analyze which parts were important to nail and which parts, not-so-much (rhythm and cues notes for singers = important; getting every note of a series of 5-note tone clusters = not-so-much), and I was not the total disaster I feared in rehearsal (I don't dip my toes - or fingers - into the opera world very often).

So.  Back to the piano to hang out with Ray.  I printed out another "Don't Panic" sign for Diesel's eventual nibbling pleasure. Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack!! Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic...