As I climbed into the shower this morning, I realized that what I was thinking about at that moment was the same thing I thought about as I fell asleep the night before. . . and the night before that. . . and the night before that. . .
I realized that I for the last week or so, my first waking thought each day – my last waking thought each night – and my predominant thought all day long – has been Carthage’s production of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute” and my worries about whether or not it will all come together. I guess this is a perfect example of how a worry can consume you so completely that you might not even realized that it’s consuming you. But today as I stood under that stream of water I realized that I wasn’t silently singing a hymn or counting my blessings or even enjoying the shower itself. (And I LOVE my morning shower!) Instead, I was making a mental list of the moments in “The Magic Flute” which were in the most serious trouble. . . a list which seemed to be getting longer -rather than shorter – by the day. And in that instant I realized that I was feeling the very same sort of queasiness as I did ten years ago when I began my two-year stint leading the Carthage Choir. There is something uniquely stressful about being responsible for something that depends both on your own good work and on the good work of others- some of which you as the director are supposed to guide and inspire, and some of which must come from them.
As we finished our rehearsal on Friday, it was clear both to me and to stage director Matt Boresi – and probably to a few of the students as well – that we had way too many singers with their noses still stuck in their scores way too much of the time…. and unless that changed, we were likely to crash into a very ugly brick wall. I was feeling a mounting sense of panic laced with dread with a twist of frustration, and was ready to deliver a thundering lecture conveying all that and more. But at the end of Friday’s rehearsal, Matt very calmly announced that people needed to be onstage Monday without their scores. No raised voice – no waving arms- no metaphor about the Titanic and the iceberg – just a calm utterance of what needed to happen.
And lo and behold, our singers took to the stage today without their scores, and it was like a new day – a very happy new day. Small little errors abounded, as they always do that first time the crutch gets thrown away, but those errors were more than worth it because this started to look and sound and feel like a real opera, and our singers started to look like real live opera singers!
Maybe that’s the real magic in The Magic Flute!
pictured above: stage director Matt Boresi works with David Duncan (Sarastro) and Laura Kaeppler (Pamina.) Performances are February 5th and 6th, 7:30.