die speisen werde ich nicht verschmähen

Ok, guys, where are you? Shadowing Idina Menzel? Fording the rivers of Pennsylvania? Or did you see my new nail polish color, notice you weren't wearing that color, and decide to turn back because everybody else was, and we would clash? Don't worry! Everything goes with purple!

We were a lean, mean trio again this week. Which means that we got through a lot of stuff.

Trio from The Magic Flute? Yeah!
"Story of my Life" from Shrek? Yeah!
"A Heart Full of Love"? You bet!
"A Little Fall of Rain"? Can't hurt me now!
"First Time in Forever"? …oh wait. Here comes Marius, back from the bathroom.

We took turns being Eponine again. Everybody likes Eponine. She gets to be noble. She gets to sing really cool low notes, and she gets to die a beautiful, self-sacrificing death. She also gets the best vocal warm-ups.

We got a chance to delve into the nitty-gritty details of German pronunciation.
"It's i - E! and e - I!"
"Oh! so it's 'dye spyzen'"
"No, no, 'deeeee shpyzen', and you have to shove an h in there too after the s…"
This is not the first time this confusion has arisen.

And there was even time for some real, true, honest-to-goodness philosophizing.
"I was learning life lessons!"
"From whom?"
"From what else? Life!"
"Life is the worst teacher. It gives you the test before it teaches you how to do it!"
"Yeah. And you never know what you did wrong."

Well here's to you, Life. You may not have the pedagogy all down, but you sure have some fascinating, mind-blowing, beautiful, tragic, huge things to teach. Even if I did topple off a wall, even if they did break my wand, banish me from the kingdom….. count me in.

thoughts...everywhere...

I am happy to say that our numbers swelled back up this week.

And so, correspondingly, did the ruckus. 

The result of which is that your correspondent, sitting on her couch, eating raw broccoli and pistachios - as one does - is having difficulty condensing two thrilling, fun-filled, event-packed hours into one small and modest post. 

One of our number expressed it best I think when, after pausing briefly to catch breath, she managed: "Sorry…thoughts…everywhere…" Shortly after which she fell off her chair. So you see what I mean. 

There was our ethereal soundscape of a scale (some have likened it to the sound of a choir of drunken monks). 5 independent voices, utterly untethered by the confines of tonality, forging utterly new paths. "Do"? Where we're going, we don't need "do"…

There was a brief discussion on whether or not it would be cool to be able to sing 2 notes at a time. 

"It would be cool!"

"No. Not cool. That's a disease. I never want to get it."

"But it would be cool!"

"Once after I was sick I had it for 2 weeks. It was not cool."

"Did you get it from singing Wagner?"

"No, it wasn't Wagner, it was a virus, and it was NOT COOL!"

"…I still think it would be cool…"

There was the general consensus that pigs do belong in condos 

(that is, if they are going to live in houses at all) and that if they are going to have German accents, they should start with them, and not adopt them mid-song. I mean, vat ees up vis zat? 

It's just not very Gesamtkunstwerk. 

Vishing you a very heppy Wagner's birsday, and a lovely week, until next time!

olympia

wallburga

Well, folks, we were only 3 again this week. What is it? Where have our friends gone? If they promise to come back, I will promise not to make quinoa jokes anymore. Or Candy Crush jokes.

OK, maybe not for a couple of weeks, at least.

A big treat this week was hearing one of our number sing one of my Favorite Arias I Never Knew the Name Of: Ebben! Ne andro lontana (Fine! I'm leaving!) from La Wally by Alfredo Catalani. First of all: yes, "La Wally". Our heroine is named Wally, which I find rather endearing, especially considering this was 1892.
"Wally?"
"It's short for Wallburga."
"Ah."

Next we had the Discovery of Fred the Ratchet Fish.

Yes, Fred just Appeared in our midst, and that next to him is a dowel-stick bow, made for a Suzuki box violin. Why did Fred join us? you ask. And why is his name Fred? 

Well, children, long long ago (exactly one week ago) one of our group was singing the doll aria from Les contes d'Hoffmann and your faithful correspondent was put in charge of winding her back up when she had run down…but we didn't have anything to make the right sound when the winding was being done. 

Lo and behold, this week, there Fred was, slyly waiting by the piano! With the perfect sound, and that cute gaping mouth, and slightly stunned look to boot. Universe: 1. Us: 1. Win-win.

And why is his name Fred? 

That, my friends, must wait for another time…

So, come back, singers, come back! Because "We've Got to Clean out the Freezer"…and we can't do it without you!

a heart full of… what?

Our numbers had dwindled down this week. Were people stunned by the sudden outburst of spring? Getting in line early for their favorite beef jerky stand at the Lilac Festival? Who knows. But we had just enough personnel to sing some trios from Les Misérables.

Your correspondent, though she finds it hard in some circles to admit this, has not always appreciated Les Mis. This can be blamed in part on her childhood best friend, who after her NKOTB phase launched straightaway, without pause for breath, into a Les Mis phase, in which only this soundtrack graced her tape player (yes, tape player. I am that old). I, for my part, dreamed of a world *without* a "Castle on a Cloud".

Now this crusty curmudgeon has had her heart softened (maybe even melted!), by what we're not quite sure (perhaps someone wanted to bake with it?) (ew), and can enjoy hitherto unknown delights such as Love at First Sight, Unrequited Love, and Selfless Self-Sacrifice. Ok, that last one she knew something about before. But anyway, all this makes musicals like Les Mis much more enjoyable!

Our valiant Marius had to put up with 2 Cosettes, 2 Eponines, and they kept switching. Not to mention all that French, and the changing words… a heart full of you…oh crap, love…

We also enjoyed a performance of the doll song from Les Contes d'Hoffmann. "What do dolls sing about?" I wondered. Turns out, same as everyone else. Love, love, love. But this thought got me thinking…do androids dream of electric sheep? etc… what if Rutger Hauer were to sing "A Little Fall of Rain"…?

Oh, and I almost forgot this.

Good night, my sweet ones, good night.