I used to live on the third floor in an apartment particularly lacking in good insulation. Even with my window tightly shut, my bedroom blinds would sway back and forth when the wind blew. I would watch in dismay as the temperature plummeted, the heating bill rose, and my hard earned cash went the way of the wind. Needless to say, the apartment was hardly sound proof.
After living there for a few months, I met my neighbor who lived in the apartment two floors below mine on the first floor. When I told her I was an opera singer, she expressed her delight with her thick Louisiana drawl. She insisted I sing something for her on the spot, and then demanded details about all of my upcoming engagements (which she proceeded to faithfully attend).
A few weeks later when I dropped by for an afternoon visit, she told me she had met our neighbor that lived on the second floor, directly between our two apartments. Our “in-between” neighbor told her that whoever lived above her was constantly playing a strange CD with a woman singing really, really high, over and over again. My first-floor neighbor laughed and told her, “That must be the girl that lives above you. That’s not a recording, but her actually singing.” Our second-floor neighbor stared in disbelief and incredulously replied, “No one sings like that!”
Such is the life of an opera singer. What is normal and wonderful to singers and those who appreciate the music (like my southern friend) is strange, different, and sometimes bizarre to those unfamiliar with the art form (like my second-floor neighbor). And so we live our lives, sometimes appreciated and sometimes misunderstood.
Rachel Antman was in just such a predicament in her New York City apartment. When her neighbors complained about her practicing, she decided to research the issue. Read what other singers have experienced with complaining neighbors and the solutions they have found for practicing and keeping peace with the locals.
Linda Watson, the stunning woman you see on this month’s cover, has sat on both sides of the opera-appreciation aisle. For many years she didn’t resonate with the music her teachers assigned her. It wasn’t until her “big” voice fully developed and she found the Fach and music right for her that she truly felt a connection between herself, her voice, and the music.
Bundled with this issue is our Classical Singer Convention ‘08 preview. If you’ve ever felt misunderstood or alone in this profession, it is time to recognize that you’re not. There is no better place for that to happen than amidst hundreds of your fellow singers learning from those who know how it’s done. Peruse what will be offered and sign up today to join us in New York City.
I’ve always wondered if my second-floor neighbor meant what she said in a good way or a bad way. I’ll probably never know. I do know, however, that I was drawn to this art form precisely because not many can sing like that. Celebrate your uniqueness as you read this issue and we hope to see you later this month in Brooklyn.
