In the interest of weeding out

This fandom which is causing me no little consternation, all further AI posts will be found here: http://www.americanidol.com/myidol/blogs/list/?un=EmilyCAS.

In other news, I was called into sing a funeral this morning, which said funeral wanted (what else?) Schubert's "Ave Maria" for communion. I was a bit apprehensive since I'm rarely in my best voice at 9 in the morning (I'm rarely my best me at 9 in the morning!), and since I still have leftover emotional paralysis when approaching this particular song. I learnt it towards the end of my stint with June Li Applebaum in New Jersey, and she was adamant that I take no breaths at all between the "Ave" and the "Maria." But I've got, like, two Coke cans' worth of lung capacity and so that just iddn't ever going to happen. So, emotional scars, etc. etc. However, I have developed as a vocalist and so I put my fears aside, went in a half hour early, sang it through with the organist - glad that he put it in Ab! - and then found myself, when the time actually came, quite capable of caressing the notes.

It's funny - and here a little AI will slip in - but right around this season, I always get more sing-y. Maybe it's just the birds twittering and various Bambi-esque feelings within me, but I get genuinely anxious to perform. And so what a delight it was to sing this morning, in our high-ceilinged Immaculate Conception, from the balcony, with the microphone far from my mouth but there if I needed it, in the proper key, with the grace of peace upon me? It was delightful to stretch phrases, to really hit each note of a turn, to crecendo and decrecendo - and take that breath between the titular words and therefore make a lovely sound.

Oh, it's all silly. But I'd love to just...stay in a beautifully acoustic room and pour my heart out in song. "I'm Going to Go Back There Someday" has been running around in my head lately. But I'd like to share this gift - I'd like to share it - and I seem to have so few opportunities. Whenever I sing inside, I'm literally sent into another room by the family member to whom I am singing! (Because even my soft voice is loud. Gaaaaah! Made for the Alps! Made for the Aaaalps!)

It's all good. It's all nonsense. My brain's been one big poetic mush. I wish I could have gone out to the Irish Pub with the Emerson lassies tonight, but no such luck. Booooo to travel time and distance! C'est ca. Well...as it is.

Mood: Sleepy, dopey, doc
Music: The various bits of cranial flotsom
Thought: It's curious: this desire to be seen - and the fear of the same.

THANK.YOU.



Mood: I screamed. I screamed. I have voted for two freaking hours. I SCREAMED!!!
Music: Are you seriously unsure?
Thought: Holy.

Embracing my inner wordnerd

For those other fellow wordnerds - welcome! For those scratching your heads, I know nuzzing, I saw nuzzing!

So we survived four nights in Boston watching/taping the directing projects. Nights one and four I didn't have the monopod and so had to make do with my hands and trying not to shake the camera too much. Fortunately, I'm not editing anything - woohoo! Just download, upload, done.

And once more I bow down to my mother, to Ann, to anyone who's ever tried to film one of my shows. Good golly I move people about just a bit! Heavens! I did the worst cinematography on my own show - and I knew what to look for in that. Actually, I had some sadness about the reception of English (not about English itself, or how I directed it, or how the actors did - they were great!), but I had thought to myself something along these lines:

"Emily," I said to myself, "you are among fellow theatre geeks. Theatre geeks who read Grotowski for kicks and giggles. Theatre geeks who think madmen like Artaud are a nifty read for a rainy day - or a sunny day - except Artaud prefers the rain. Hence, Emily, you are among those who, as an audience, will likewise be quickwitted intellectually, who will immediately embrace absurdist theatre, and who will therefore Laugh Long and Loud at David Ives' wit.

"Emily," I said to myself, "you are among MA-earners, among Ph.D.-desirers, among the Intellectual Elite and the Financially Impoverished. To quote Eddie Izzard, you shall do well he-ah."

And then performance came. And the audience was...not really laughing. Oh, they were LISTENING. They were processing. But they weren't slapping their knees. They weren't guffawing like they did in other shows whenever "sex" or "white male oppressor" (blaugh - restrains self from ranting about the ridiculous of such an eponym!) was mentioned. I began to think I should have staged the whole thing a la the Three Stooges. I began to think perhaps the show wasn't funny. I began to think I'd failed the script, the actors, the WORLD, and my darling Will Shakespeare (just because he's always a commentator on my shoulder in all things theatrical). I should have gone for Apple Pie rather than a Jigsaw Confectionary.

So, I've decided that I Need To Go To England, If Only For Their Audiences. *bursting seams* *sigh*

Anywho, far too late and minutes to go before I sleep, and minutes to go before I sleep....

Mood: Scrunched
Music: Guess. Yeah. He's turned me into the fourteen year old I never was.
Thought: But "Hello" is just...just...yes.

I was stressing about homework

And then I found this:



Mood: Still stressed but....
Music: Mental Analog Heart
Thought: LURVE the lyrics for "Porcelain" from the above. Just as I LURVE the lyrics from "Porcelain Fists" by Ingrid Michaelson from her Slow the Rain album. And it strikes me that that is what the make-up should be like for Romeo and Juliet. Kewl.

Singin' in the Rain

Or at least taking a walk around the block in it. And getting happily wet. And enjoying the diffused glow of spring sunset. Rainbow weather. Fat, jolly drops. Scenic thunder and lighting - less a threat and more a counterbeat. Nope. I don't know enough to come out of the rain. And I'm glad of it!

I've realized that I really need to do homework after all, since it's only due Wednesday and whatnot. (It's a project-y-type-thing.) So, I'm being a good student and am only blogging here for a bit and then off to continue my project. Which includes pictures. Because all things should be prettied up if possible.

Cantored for Mass today. Did alright. But best of all, Father Mike had time for confession afterwards! Huzzah! Good stuff. Poor bake sale ladies (Mom's Bible Study ladies) though! They were rained on but apparently still did fairly well despite lacking a canopy.

Have put today to somewhat good use. (Yay!) Have done several loads of laundry (only because I'm being very good and separating by color, etc. - go me!). Am doing some light housekeeping. Cooked a scrumptious stir-fry for myself. (I don't cook, so go me!) And had a super time with Peter early this morning, coming up with rhymes and non-rhymes to "When the Saints Go Marching In" about everything and nothing. Much irritating Julie, who suffered us serenading her when she just came into grab her sunglasses. The lesson? Never leave lefties alone!

Am very grateful. Am striving to get Him back front and center. But for the grace of God go I!

Mood: Faaaaaaaaahbulous!
Music: Mirrorball by Sarah McLaughlin
Thought: It's fun to have a microphone into which to sing. It allows for different dyamics to slide out of the voice.
Oh! And: Duh! The whole reason I posted to begin with! The finished retrospective of the HCH years.



And if you're so inclined: A guerilla shot Jules took of me composing at Steubie-U. I had no idea she was doing this, then one day it shows up on YouTube. *sigh*

Give me an occupation, or I shall run mad

As Colonel Brandon a la Alan Rickman a la Emma Thompson so achingly said. Very true, Pooh. I have decided that a) even if I am not OCD and only Type A that b) I am still much in need of occupation(s) or I shall run mad. Must come from my Germanic/Irish background - the need to occupy and be occupied? Ba doom doom CHING! OK, people - these are the laughs.

English goes up next/this Wednesday. Come to Boston all ye who dare. The show looks GREAT, and clocks in at about 15 minutes.

Wallace's Will is coming along better than I could have dreamed. Am enjoying every second of it. Scheduling issues and all.

Am still collecting music for Romeo and Juliet. Have more or less settled on "Don't Stop the Music" (probably because I got to see my So You Think You Can Dance Favorites again, sans only Allison) for the first part of the dance scene in Act I. Am still debating between a few choices for the "sin from my lips" section. Choices choices choices! (Go forward a little to see the actual song.)

Did I mention that I got into the Shakespeare Ensemble class next semster? Ironically, we're doing Much Ado. I'm super-psyched. I mean SUPER. SUPER-de-DUPER. As in screaming, and dancing, and jumping about, and generally behaving like a muppet when I got the news. I was so loud, apparently, that my family all thought something terrible had happened. Oh, Will, Will, Will, Will - Shakey baby and I are in a committed relationship. (Hrm. Committed, as in "lovers and madmen," non? Oh, Rosalind!)

I'm very excited to revisit the text, though. To view it through new eyes. To make different decisions, or to understand the ones I made previously. It'll be strange at first - jarring, I've no doubt - when I don't hear, let's say, Matt saying: "Oooooh! Now you strike like a blind man!" (In fact, the line might be cut!) Mostly, though, I hope I'm allowed to approach the piece as an actor. I've been desiring so much - not to "get back into acting" - I feel that I'm not a natural actor who, as Brenda said, mostly goes from job to job (in my words: begging) - but rather so that I can remember what it's like, make better choices as a director, become more sensitive to what an actor needs.

I'm seriously thinking about going to England after next year, Exeter to be precise, to get my MFA at this school that works with the RSC and the Globe. I've no idea how I'd pay for it (or get them to pay for me!), but I'm seriously thinking about it the way I seriously thought about Gaudete, about Emerson, about Franciscan. Which is to say, I think it'll probably happen. C'est ca.

And now no other news, except the world is gorgeous, David Cook's voice is gorgeous, planning R&J is gorgeous, and tuna and milk is gorgeous.

Mood: Bof.
Music: Fangirly. Oh, Emily! What has become of you!
Thought: V. cool dissecting R&J with Cass. Fractures in glass; surviving instead of living; our very fragile world.
Oh! And: A few videos. Old stuff, but new to the web.

Nutcracker: Behind the Scenes


NEW! Peter's Denial (But Still You Loved Me)
from 2007 Passion

David Cook, Summer Shows, Spring Dresses, and Allison Panetta

Oh my!

Yes, yes, I've been a negligent fool. I refer you to why. I do not apologize, much like Simon Cowell. So, to work backwards from my title, as I've been told to blog: "I love Allison Panetta. She's the best. Hurrah hurrah!" *disengages from automatic systems to write remainder of blog* (J/K Allison - do love ya. ;P)

For various reasons, I've taken up wearing skirts the past two days and have rediscovered, Boy! Do I ever miss wearing flouncy, brightly-colored spring dresses/blouses/skirts/colours! I even broke out the need-to-be-replaced-but-oh-so-comfy-sandals. As you can imagine, I'm attempting to encourage the weather as well as taking advantage of the fact that I don't have to dress for Boston these past few days - always a battle between the muck of a city and the unforgiving elements. Home is much friendlier to wearing inappropriate footwear indoors than tromping around Boyleston Street. (Tangent: inappropriate footwear creates a strange mental image, like tootsies wearing - what? skimpy tanktops?) Anywho, I'm glad not to be wearing scarves and heavy coats and the other accoutrements of winter! (As I was in the picture, above.)

I'm also increasingly psyched for Romeo and Juliet. We've closed the girls' registration, but still have openings for boys. I think it's going to be a good summer. A Hamlet-esque summer. Huzzah! Soundtrack is shaping up. Starting to get good ideas about costumes/design/make-up even. Coming together cranially. We'll be getting the informational packages (including monologue selection, etc.) out soon. In the nonce, don't forget to pick yourself up a copy of the script! And it's worth taking a look at various versions of the show.

Which brings me, by no segue whatsoever, to American Idol and more specifically to David Cook. OK, now I'll state that I am head-over-heels in musical love with M. Cook - and not just because of his sexyeyes performance of "Hello."



Or just because of his tenderness in Dolly Parton's "Little Sparrow" (hint: full length studio recording a-ma-zing and in part acappella!).



Or just because of his rockin' out "Eleanor Rigby" (which he totally did):



Or just because of his stripped-down amazing and soulful "Billie Jean":



Nope - he had me week one with his "Happy Together":



The fact that he's a lefty is just icing. However, truly, the reason why I'm such a David Cook fan is that not only is he a fantastic musician with true connection to the melody, lyric, audience, instrument and self, but he also is an actual contender to change American Idol.

Hefty order? Yeah. But unlike Chris Daughtry or Blake Lewis, he actually has a shot. Daughtry was great - but in rewatching him, he has a sort of cold personality, and he tended not to show many facets to himself as a performer - he was solely rock. Blake had the ingenuity to play with arrangements, but he was limited vocally - and he had all those weird affectations.

However, David Cook's personality is warm, assured, jubilant and - yes - attractive. (I feel bad writing "sexy" twice. Oops! ;) More, he's been consistent with his performances. I find myself waiting anxiously to see "what he'll do" with whatever song he's chosen - will he slow it down, strip it down, build it up, rock it out? What facet of himself as a musician will he reveal tonight? I find myself - a consummate NON-concert-goer - thinking that I'll probably buy tickets to his concert whenever he goes solo. Yup. That good.

But it's what it might mean if David Cook wins American Idol that has me the most twitterpated. For the first four seasons of American Idol, I didn't watch. It was a stupid Star Search reality show nonsense thingy. It was hokey. It was cheesy. It produced such things as some To Kelly or something movie. It produced a few ubiquitous songs that I suffered through as a chaperone at interminable school dances.

Then, in what turned out to be season 5, two things happened: my students kept bugging me about which contestant I thought was best and therefore completely derailing class time and I got a new computer that turned out to also be a TV. So, since I now had control of the remote and was determined to learn two things about the show so I could shut up my students and get on with the Ten Commandments, I tuned in. And tuned in again. Little did I know this was THE season to tune into - if only for Chris Daughtry. I gasped with the world when he was voted off. I tuned out the rest of the season. I was unsurprised when Taylor Hicks' and Cat McWhatshername-of-the-thousand-runs sold almost no albums.

And I tuned back in for season six - hopeful for more Daughtry-esque music. The best last season (abysmal) could muster was Blake Lewis. Once again, America crowned a vocalist with no real musicianship. And this is the real reason I didn't credit American Idol as much of anything for the longest while.

American Idol - and really, American popular music - has been overly dominated lately by producers, not musical artists. Hence we get a bunch of songs that non-songwriting artists cover and it's ends up being not a vision, not a poem, but kareoke on tap. The other likely winner (and, if America is dull again, probable winner) of AI is of this brand: a beautiful vocalist with no artistic sensibility. I mean of course David Archuleta. But take a look at his floundering arms and his veneer of attachment to the lyric - he's thinking of what he ought to be doing, rather than doing. He's singing, but he's not making music. (And apparently he can only sing ballads.)



So, here's to hoping that David Cook is crowned - and America returns to the singer-songwriter - one who, in the words of Joss Whedon - gives us something to sing about.

Mood: Joyeux
Music: "Hello." And I'm shameless about it. So there.
Happiness is: Jules and I are going to see Eddie Izzard at the end of this month! YAAAY!