No, I didn't blog yesterday. By the time I got home from the concert/play I was just too tired ...
Yesterday started more calmly, with no performance psychology class to delve deep into my soul first thing in the morning. I went to one of the two lectures on collaborative relationships between singers and pianists, and picked up a few things I hadn't known before (but not that many).
I then packed up a small lunch and a book and went for a walk to a nearby park, where I ate and then relaxed on the grass and read. It was quiet, and though the park itself wasn't much to look at, the houses on the way there and back were. I'm pretty sure this is a fairly rich part of Vancouver, so everything is impeccably groomed and the houses themselves are wonderful. A lovely place to go walking.
The masterclass yesterday afternoon was what I was really looking forward to, and it certainly didn't disappoint: two hours with the Very British coach that I'd worked with the other day, focused on English art song. Actually, the focus was on Ralph Vaughan Williams' The House of Life, or selections thereof. He prefaced it by talking about a bit of the history of the cycle and of Vaughan Williams, but didn't go into the poetry much, because we'd already had a lecture on it earlier in the week. However, once we got into the songs, the insight he gave was fascinating. I believe I have three or four pages of notes.
After the masterclass, I practiced with my accompanist a bit, identified places that I needed to work on personally, and then went to make dinner. I actually made dinner last night - ground beef with a Cajun rice mix that was really good, if a little spicier than I usually eat. Oh well. Very yummy.
The last event of the week was a Shakespeare-infused concert/play that I had been looking forward to all week: the first act was an original story (very simple: boy meets girl, girl goes head over heels, boy backs out, girl's heart breaks) set to various songs with either texts by Shakespeare or from the same period; the second act was Try Me, Good King, a telling of Henry VIII's last night, where he is visited by the Fool (as in jester) to introduce him over again to the spirits of his dead wives (five, in case you forgot). The spirits of his wives sing, but I didn't think much of the songs ... they didn't sound much like songs, really. Maybe glorified recitative. However, the text was quite good, and the actors were top-notch. It was both hilarious and painful to watch as poor Henry struggled through this last night.
After the concert/play, I went for a walk in the gardens near the theatre, and contemplated life and such. Beautiful, beautiful gardens. I would love to have gardens like those at my own house. Terraced, stone arches with vines, hemmed in by trees, you know ... oh and these gardens had a gorgeous view of the mountains and the sunset. :D
Anyway, got home, basically went to bed. The bed is getting better by the day as I tweak it to be ever-so-slightly thicker each evening. Today my plan is breakfast (check), Callanetics (35% check), church, and then the beach! It's kind of cool today, but I'm hoping it either warms up a bit or that it's not windy. After the beach, I'll head home, shower off the sand, and then head to a choral concert. Relaxing day. No practicing. Not even thinking about art song. la la la.
(in tagging this post, I realized that I have already tagged Shakespeare in another post ... now I have to go find that post.)
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