It’s 11:33 p.m. – – – and I am WIDE awake, thanks in large part to a post-performance high from tonight’s joint voice faculty recital at Carthage. It was almost all of us sharing the stage (our colleague Sarah Gorke, regrettably, was missing because of an off campus teaching obligation) for a celebration of William Shakespeare. It turned out to be a rather star-crossed affair, given that several of us were weighed down by very serious colds or other maladies – while someone else had to deal with their dad’s recent hospitalization and surgery – but someone we all managed to limp our way to the starting line, and by the end of the evening we had managed to serve up some heartfelt, expressive singing in a wide array of styles – and everything pointing back, one way or another, to Mr. Shakespeare.
And in addition to all of the singing, there was absolute hilarity offered up by Matt Boresi, the brilliant stage director of our most recent opera productions. Interspersed throughout our recital were three little lectures about William Shakespeare that explored topics like the many words he invented or the delicious insults he could serve up poetically like no one else. From the moment Matt put on those oh-so scholarly-looking eyeglasses, he had the audience in the palm of his hands.
As for the singing, it ranged from opera arias (from Rossini’s Otello, Gounod’s Romeo and Juliet, and Verdi’s Macbeth) to art songs to musical theater numbers . . . with all of us joining together in “Brush up your Shakespeare” from Kiss Me Kate for a fun-loving finale. (I had hoped that we might also be able to do a snippet from Vaughan Williams’ Serenade to Music – probably my very favorite Shakespeare musical setting – but the fact that the seven of us are literally never on campus at the same time made that impossible.) The program ended up having a slightly crazy quilt feeling to it, but what could be more appropriate for celebrating an artist of such remarkable, wide-ranging influence? And speaking of remarkable, I find myself already dreaming of Shakespeare II – of all kinds of pieces that we could do the next time around: I might take a stab at the drinking aria from Thomas’s Hamlet, and it sure would be fun to join forces with my tenor colleague Klaus George in “Si pel Ciel” from Verdi’s Otello. (Something neither of us would ever sing on the opera stage, but maybe in the friendly confines of the recital hall?) And I would love to hear three of the ladies join together in “Sing for your Supper” from The Boys from Syracuse . . . and how about some excerpts from West Side Story? I guess that’s as good an indication as any of how good I feel about tonight and about my colleagues’ great work. They each brought their own distinctive skills and personality to the table – and also could not have been more gracious and affirming of each other. I certainly felt that tonight, since I had to take the stage feeling way under par. . . singing nowhere close to my best . . . but never for a moment feeling like my colleagues were listening to me with anything but sympathy and good wishes, and with appreciation for what i was still able to do. It is so good to teach someplace where you feel that level of trust and affection and mutual respect with one another – and never for a moment do I take that for granted. (I so vividly remember certain tensions back at the University of Nebraska between certain voice faculty- – – and especially between the two violin instructors, who would not exchange a single word with each other. Can you imagine?)
By the way, anything good that happened tonight would have been utterly impossible without the wonderful and sensitive piano playing of Melissa Cardamone, who is one of the best things to happen to our department in the last several years. She plays so confidently and musically – and also follows whoever she accompanies as though ESP were among her gifts. . . but she also shares her talents with such generosity and joy. When she rehearses with you, she gives the distinct impression that there isn’t anyplace else she would rather be or anything else she would rather be doing than playing the piano for you. (I like to think of myself as a fairly nice and generous person, but compared to Melissa, I look like the evil ogre who lives under the bridge on the edge of town. ) Anyway, she bore the responsibility of playing for everything on the program . … all except for Amy Haines’ performance of “I hate Men!” (It was just too tempting to have me play for that. . . too much comedic gold to be mined with a guy on the piano bench for that number!) And Melissa played so well, start to finish, and made it all a complete pleasure.
So on a night when just about all of us on that stage were either sick or tired or both . . . and on a night when it was snowing out, for crying out loud . . . there was something about the dual gifts of Shakespeare and music that left us all smiling again. . . and hungry for the next time when we’ll all get to do this again. (Hopefully with Sarah!)
pictured above: our finale. left to right: Klaus George, Matt Boresi, Corinne Ness, Lorian Schwaber, GB, Amy Haines, and Allison Hull.