Here in the Midwest, we are very conscious of ethic backgrounds, especially in the larger Metro areas–in Milwaukee and St. Louis and especially in my hometown, Chicago–of our own and others. Those Feast Days we celebrate, especially in winter . If you were in Chicago last year in March for ACDA, you know we all become Irish! It is much the same for other Feasts–the Paczkis are out this weekend.

What are Paczkis you may ask? It is a Polish custom for Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday, Pancake Tuesday or Paczki Tuesday. Paczkis are filled donuts much like any jelly donut you would get any where in the country–I think they are a bit heavier, myself. I like the custard filled, with chocolate but you can get them in almost any flavor you would like. They are available in most regular grocery stores, supplied by one or two bakeries in the area. The white boxes, with red lettering proclaiming “Paczkis” in English and in Polish, are stacked in the middle of the stores where all can see. I was in the grocery store yesterday and they were out of them–no rain checks. My husband brought some home this morning to satisfy my craving. It was a way, much like the Pancakes of my own ethic upbringing, of using up the animal fat or oil in the house before Lent began in those days when we were all a bit more religious. Hot Cross Buns will be available by the end of the week–I do have a hankering!

I started to live in the seasons, consciously, when I taught school and had a children’s choir. We all celebrate Christmas and Easter (and Advent and Lent) when it’s happening but it goes further than that, I think. Musically, it makes sense to perform a “Requiem” during late winter, Lent or just after Easter and a “Magnificat” in fall or Advent. It feels wrong to sing a “Requiem” in December for some reason, though a good reason would be because it was premiered at that time of year. “Messiah,” though often performed in Advent–whether completely or the Christmas portion–was premiered during Lent but with “Messiah,” anything seems to go.

I love “Israel in Egypt” and think it’s a great idea to perform right before Passover. The “Five Flower Songs” are wonderful in spring. I can think of any of a number of pieces to program at certain times of the year. Much like eating locally and seasonally, I’ve been programming more seasonally lately as well.

Well, have to go. There’s a Paczki with my name on it waiting!

My mother used to tell us, having good manners was not showing off how ‘fancy’ you are but showing respect for other people. You said, “excuse me” if you bumped into someone or made a rude noise or wanted to leave the room. You said, “please” and “thank you” if you wanted something or were asked if you did and received whatever it was. You stood for your elders, or the President of the United States or a guest and gave your seat to someone who needed it more than you. Manners are not knowing which fork to use,when, but a way of showing people you care by your behavior.

Lately, I’ve been talking about professionalism with my musician friends. In the music business, just what is professionalism? I’ve always thought it to be very similar to having good manners, respect for your fellow musicians and their time. Others feel it also means getting music in a timely fashion or knowing a rehearsal schedule in advance.

The term is thrown around amongst my friends in conversation but I want to know what it means to those I work with, too. I know conductors who expect their players to be ready to drop other obligations for their newly scheduled rehearsals. I know singers who think nothing of not giving music to their accompanists, still expecting perfection. I know musicians, in fits of pique, “venting” to musicians who got the job they didn’t, screeching, “it’s not fair” when it probably is. We all have worked with people who feel *they* are the professional but who behave any way but professionally.

I am boring, I admit, because I hate drama. If you sing for me, you receive a rehearsal schedule before rehearsals ever start and an absence sign-up sheet and most, if not all, of your music. You will know five days before every rehearsal what we will be working on so you can work on only that and nothing else. I won’t call extra rehearsals if I can help it and if I do, it will be known to all as soon as possible. If you audition for me, I will calmly tell you if you did, or didn’t, make it when I told you I will tell you. Oh, and no matter what happens, *save the drama for your mama*, because I won’t tolerate it–this isn’t the set of “Glee.” And that’s it exactly–many people, even those who are the supposed “professionals”, think it is the drama and the last minute changes and the lack of schedules because their ensemble should be the only important thing in your life makes you a “professional musician”. I believe it to be the opposite.

The true professionals in my life have been those who respect my time and theirs as well. It is not only letting me know what the rehearsal schedule is that makes them the professional but it shows they are organized and thinking ahead. We all have occasion to have to do things at the last minute but when it is always that way or appears to be that way, it is rather unsettling. And makes me wonder if they are as *professional* as they claim to be.

My main instrument is voice. Oh, I play the piano fairly well but jokingly say I gave birth to a good pianist so what more do you want now?

As a undergrad and grad student, I duly studied both. I was petrified by my piano juries but know they were good for me, in the long run, to be able to do what what I need to do now in rehearsals.

In my voice lessons, I studied what was required eventho it didn’t quite fit me. Since I was a choral conducting major, it didn’t matter. I sang a lot as a kid, and in high school got most of the leading roles in the musicals. I just didn’t feel comfortable in college–there didn’t seem to be a place for me. I have excellent technique–probably because it was always drilled into me and because I have good “soprano genes.” Mama was a coloratura and had beautiful high ‘C’s into her sixties. And I live the “singer’s life” anyway–watch what I eat, when I eat it and sleep when I need to for the most part. I told my husband when we were dating to think of me as a “nun with jewelry”–he wasn’t frightened off. He’s now an ENT doctor anyway and I prepared him for all the singers in his practice–he’s gives me jewelry–so it’s all good.

I gave recitals in college–the required number with the prescribed repertoire–and loved singing but I just didn’t feel at home. I am not the leading lady type and that’s the problem. I am not tall or blonde (ironic!) or especially beautiful. I move well–I’m a former ballet dancer–and my face is mobile. And I can act. Boy, can I act. One of my ballet masters told me I reminded him of Zazu Pitts but I had no idea of who that was. My undergrad voice teacher, God rest her soul, loved me and my voice but wanted me to sing serious arias. It felt wrong but I did what she wanted. And I auditioned for things I didn’t feel would fit me because she wanted me to–and didn’t get them. My Mom really was the Queen of the Night but I didn’t feel like Pamina!

I began my work with choirs soon after college and was a serious conductor–or at least, I tried to be. I would ‘crack wise’ and I suppose that would throw people off. I can’t help it–I am a comedienne and it bubbles out, sometimes even when I conduct Byrd! My husband calls me pert and perky and spunky and that about sums it up.

In graduate school, my voice teacher was wiser, I think. Since he knew I was “only” a choral conductor, we could do pretty much what we wanted and none of the other voice faculty could complain. It was then I found a name for my voice type–soubrette. I learned Suzanna and Zerlina and Despina and Blonde as well as Adele. My Mom told me she had thought I might be a soubrette early on but dismissed it since she couldn’t imagine anyone really wanting to play a maid! In my performing for Rep Classes for the Voice Department and the like, the other voice teachers looked forward to whatever I sang because they knew they would be entertained and I could sing, too. My Despina was famous. I had a blast in between conducting Britten and Handel and William Billings. I felt I was home in my own voice.

Of course, when I left grad school, it was to the serious business of conducting. My choirs’ sounds were described as “elegant” and “exquisite” and occasionally crossed my eyes so the choir could see me and get the message to blend or whatever. I often told them I would even tap dance to get them to do what I wanted–and then break into a “Buck and wing” to prove my point. Poulenc and a Buck and Wing…I know!

Now I conduct the Midwest Motet Society and we are very serious. We sing serious repertoire. We sing for serious events. Seriously. And I study voice to keep my technique up and I’m serious!

I study with a retired professor of voice from a respected local music school at a university. I’m not sure what she thought when I first sang for her. I was worried I would lose my high notes if I didn’t kept working on them but my high’ B flat’ is still reliable and my high ‘C’ peeps her head out occasionally, too. We started out with the art songs and lieder I learned as a kid. Nice, but not inspired. I was trying not to rock the boat too much with the professional by doing what she asked. Then she asked me if I had learned any arias and I mentioned Despina’s……and as a sang for her she began to smile. And she and her accompanist laughed as I sang–a good thing if you’re a comedienne.

I’ve been working with Anne for about six years now and since she realized I’m a soubrette, has had so much fun looking for repertoire for me. I’m different and she likes that. I keep her fresh by giving her a challenge with my “type”–I sing serious things and funny things and quirky things for her. I’ve had a ‘desire for hermitage’ with Barber as well as ‘hating music’ with Bernstein. I will sing a little something from a 1930s musical for her recital this Sunday……Betty Boop and Zazu Pitts influenced…because she wants some comedic relief and she knows I’ll deliver. I told her “old soubrettes never die–we just turn in to novelty acts” and she laughed and laughed. It’s freeing for me to just be myself for a change–or the part of me who isn’t afraid to take a prat fall.

My real work is serious and I love it. But my own singing is NOT serious and I love that too.

It’s that time again–auditions. We have two audition periods (three, if you count the time right after our spring concert and before our fall concert cycle auditions) and this is the audition period right before our spring concert. We began last Wednesday and will continue through our first rehearsal.

I announce auditions in a few ways–on this website, in various internet ways (email blasts, posting on a choral website, emails to our local papers) and a snail mailing. I still do a snail mailing because I’ve gotten several good singers from flyers posted in libraries and sent to local choir directors. That mailing went out yesterday and the email blast went out last week.

I’ve auditioned one person this week. Unfortunately, I had to reject him and not for the reasons you think. He has a lovely voice which would be a great addition to our group, but his attitude is awful. I have a very simple audition procedure and he wouldn’t go along with it.

I really believe a chamber choir is a different animal from the usual large choral group. It’s more like a string quartet or other chamber ensemble, especially in the ‘getting along’ aspect. And because I believe that, my auditions are designed with that in mind. I vocalize the person after talking a bit to relax them. I have them sing a patriotic song–I give them a choice of two–with and without vibrato and ask them to tell me which is which. I have them sight read a small portion of something we will be singing for that concert cycle and give them every chance to do well. Sometimes, I will sing a part with them–soprano, alto or tenor–if I have any doubts about them being able to hold their own. I interview them and they interview me. This part of the audition process is the most telling. And it’s more about what you CAN do in the future for me and not what you DID DO in the past for someone else.

With my auditioneer this week, it was a question of his not being willing to do what I asked. He insisted on singing a prepared solo and not the patriotic song. He didn’t feel he should have to sight read and didn’t want to be interviewed. Surprisingly, he had no problem with interviewing me! It was with real regret I decided he wouldn’t be a good addition because his voice certainly would be. I didn’t want to have to fight with him or have him fight with my other singers–I could tell he would make us all miserable.

I added the interview portion to my audition after our first concert cycle just because of a similar experience with a singer. Her husband taught music history at a local liberal arts college and she felt she shouldn’t have to sight read for little ol’ me. Because she was a good musician in other ways, I accepted her. She was a nightmare to work with and wasn’t reliable to boot. I decided there and then to interview everyone.

I’m sure the fellow I heard last week doesn’t understand why he didn’t make the MMS. But the very fact he probably doesn’t understand is the reason.