We’ve Come Along Way, Baby!
Our Auditions Section has grown significantly over the years, and improved not only in volume, but also in accuracy. We had to laugh when we read the following audition listing in the December 1989 issue:
“Rumor: Hawaii Opera Theatre may be planning an NYC auditions trip in December.”
And check out this one from May 1990:
“Cincinnati Opera was in New York auditioning in late April. Rumor has it that they are hearing Mozart, possibly for Le nozze di Figaro. If you don’t know what to do with this information, be creative!”
Can you imagine if we printed something like this now? Singers would be up in arms! We go to great lengths to make sure all audition listings are accurate, complete, and definite—no more rumors here.
She’s Come Along Way, Baby!
In the early days of the “Newsletter,” competitions submitted their winners for publication. It was fun to read names of singers just starting out who are household names today: Christine Brewer, Stanford Olsen, Denyce Graves, and yes, even Renée Fleming (hasn’t she always been famous?). Fleming appeared in the November 1989 issue as a recipient of the Ruth Richards career grant of $5,000 and in the March 1988 issue as a second place winner in the Liederkranz Foundation competition. Who was she second to? Our very own Carla Wood (a.k.a. CJ Williamson) and Stuart Neil who tied for first place.
A Little Self—Deprecation Never Hurts
Typos have long been the bane of our existence, even in the early days, as evidenced in this errata printed in the January 1989 “Newsletter.” While we may be long on typos, we’ve never been short on humor and the ability to laugh at ourselves.
“If you didn’t see last month’s column, ignore this paragraph:
Am I embarrassed? Am I ashamed? Yes and yes. Last month’s editor column was an editor’s nightmare. Syntax errors, typos, left out words, fragments (like this one!). The column really wasn’t meant to be to be [sic—yes, there was a typo in this errata!] a “fill-in-the-blank!” And to think it was my own column. Anyway, the missing pieces, in case you’ve been on the edge of your piano bench for the last 30 days, are ‘24,’ ‘3, ’39,’ and ___. (That’s a joke, son . . . there were only three blanks!)”
Gift Ideas for the Singer
“Are you, or a significant other into Mozart? Then for last minute Christmas shopping perhaps you will consider the undergarment for women mentioned on p. 4 in the new magazine, First for Women (Dec. 2, 1991). The item features side-mounted tiny speakers that play 20 seconds of a Mozart melody when fastened in front and for the $73 price tag, the manufacturers even threw in underwires and blinking lights. A steal!” (From the “Singer’s Diary” in the December 1991 issue.)
The Doggondest Audition Ever
“Tulsa Opera announces its fourth annual Singing Dog Contest to be held on Aug. 3 in Tulsa Okla. Humans will have three minutes to entice their doggie divas to “sing” (in the language of their choice). A distinguished panel of judges, representing Tulsa Opera and the Tulsa SPCA, will rule on which of the melodious mutts masquerading as Marschallins and Marios is most mellifluous (role of Hundig is already cast). Winning canines will be awarded prizes. [Editor’s note: Perhaps winners will be granted a role in Die Fleadermaus, Der Fleagender Holländer, Turandog, Andrea Chien, or Un Bow Wow in Maschera.] Entry fee: $5. For details contact Tulsa Opera (canine division).” (From the Jul/Aug 1996 audition section.)
Pavarotti: No ID, No Bed!
“Having one of the most famous faces in Italy, much less the world, did not help Luciano Pavarotti get a room for the night. Not carrying any personal identification, the famous tenor was turned away from the four-star Sheraton Hotel in Padua, Italy. Pavarotti was in Italy to receive in international award and had booked a room at the hotel but could not comply with local requirements to show valid ID. Someone else apparently took him in. He appeared rested and relaxed the next day.” (From the January 2001 issue.)
Audition Blunders!
“Here are some useful tales of singers who took themselves right out of the running not by singing badly—but because of the way they announced their arias.
“A tenor said he would sing the ‘Death of Otello,’ which, in our experience is usually a gasp rather than an aria.
Whether you’re singing the death scene of Otello, Rodrigo, Cio-Cio San or anybody else you know, it’s best to announce the text by which the aria is known (“Per me guinto” from the death of Roderigo from Don Carlos, for example). That lets the auditioners know whether you’re intending to sing for five minutes or five seconds—and make appropriate arrangements.
“And then there was the apprentice soprano who announced that she would sing the ‘Bijou Song from Fo.’ After mental gymnastics, the panel grasped that she was about to sing ‘The Jewel Song’ from Faust. The lesson? Hard to know where to begin. First, fledgling singers ought to be coached on the standard names for the pieces they sing. Second, anyone who thinks that Faust is pronounced ‘Fo’ will probably become a solfege teacher instead of an opera singer.” (From January 1993.)
