Excitement (and a little danger) in the Hood

I was somewhere between showering and dressing yesterday morning when I heard of ton of sirens and, peering out the window, saw 8 cop cars barrel down Morris Mark Parkway.  Thinking they were all on their way to some sort of emergency call somewhere I else, I thought no more of it.  Until I heard the helicopters circling my neighborhood, so I got curious.

I looked up 'Harlem police pursuit' on google and found an early report of a car crash on 122nd and Lenox Avenue, two blocks away, so I went out and took a look.  I'll show you pictures, but they're not very good.

Turns out the police were responding to a robbery and pursued a suspect, the suspect's car jumped a very large median and plowed into an oncoming car and several pedestrians.  What I saw out my window was the police pursuing some guys, who were running away from the crash on foot into the park across my street.

And then I read this article today in the WSJ:  armed robbery in broad daylight.  An elderly nun killed in the pursuit.  I walk by her convent every day.  And all this two blocks from my house.  So sad.

Marcelina, Part I

I'm currently prepping Marcelina for a July performance of The Marriage of Figaro, which means I'm doing weekly solo coachings, some ensemble coachings, and a lot of external reading-- some fun one's like the play the opera is based on, Beaumarchais' La Folle Journee, and some yawners like Charles Rosen's The Classical Style.

It's honestly been a little touch and go.  I got the role because someone else dropped out, and I have never done this type of singing-- my voice is a huge and a sometimes unwieldy honking horn, and my weaknesses in singing lie in the language and word area.  The Marcelina stuff is elegant, precise and wordy.  Not a match made in heaven.  I was trying to describe this to a friend in analogy, and the best I could do was basically say, 'think of an elephant on ice skates'. 

My coach has really been extremely patient, with only one or two despairing remarks thrown in along the way.  But sensitive little me is not used to being the slow achiever in the room, and I've been in a panic that he's going to replace me.  So, I've been hard at it all week--trying to find ways to get this stuff programmed into my body, trying to stay relaxed and focused while at the same time working my ass off.

It paid off-- I had a coaching yesterday.  He seemed pleased with my progress.  I could actually relax and enjoy working with him.   Better yet, I could see how I might be ready in time.

Divine Conspiracy

Yesterday's sermon was on the Blesseds, in particular Blessed are those who mourn.  I remembered that years ago I read Dallas Willard's book The Divine Conspiracy and was floored by what he said regarding the Blesseds/Beatitudes.  So, after hearing what Milind had to say about it on Sunday,  I pulled out TDC to see what Willard had to say.

I had forgotten how powerful this book is.  Opening the book and reading a couple of paragraphs had the effect of a strong spiritual magnet for me this morning-- aligning me to what is important, reminding me of the joy and power of the Kingdom of God, and helping me gently put aside the distractions that keep piling in on me, or perhaps, that I keep piling on myself.

And that these moments keep happening to me, that the right word keeps showing up when I need it, just reminds me of how incredibly kind God is, how near, how loving, how infinite his mercies.

On Sunday I got to read Lamentations 3:19-30 for the church, and in the middle of a very sad passage, there is this beauty:

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, "the Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him."
The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

Favorite Headshot Ever!!!

Why I love me some liturgy

Because I'm wandering around my house this morning, feeling wayward, lazy and very human.  I'm studying Carmen and I'm thinking about treachery, selfishness, sex, power and jealousy.  I'm worried about the role I'm learning, fearful of getting replaced, worried about money, my body and why the hell I'm doing all of this in the first place.  I can feel it all like a weight around my neck.  And then I remember the words of a prayer, because I repeat them every week at church:

Oh Lord, to you all thoughts are known, and from You no secrets are hid.  Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy name through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

God is present in all things, I can be radically present to Him at every moment, without shame, no matter what.

Which is a freaking amazing thought.

Why NYC needs another TJ's

The Bread aisle.  Seven o'clock on a weekday.

Thank heavens!  A new TJs is opening on the Upper West only a few stops away on the subway.  Saved!  We're saved!

Funny? I think so...

This brownstone is across the street from my apartment.  I can't walk by without chuckling...but then, I'm easily entertained.

Oh Happy Chaos!

I am exhausted.  Nursery duty today at All Angels.  11 kids, two adults, two hours, and not enough A/C.   

Hats off to all parents everywhere.

My feet were immortalized in song today

Apparently I'm the tall white lady in the black dress with the pretty feet.  At least, that's what one subway entertainer dubbed me the minute I stepped onto the downtown 2/3 this morning.  I was on my way to Home Depot to buy my second (and hopefully final) air conditioning unit because it is FREAKING HOT in New York today people!  I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings because I was mesmerized watching this You Tube video of my dad playing Vanilla Rice: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ybz_z-3o3lc&feature=channel

So, I stepped into the subway car, laughing at my Dad's dancing, when I hear, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I will now sing this next song for the tall white lady in the black dress.  I will sing it to this lady right here with the pretty feet.  Here we go."  And without further ado, he starts singing "I've got sunshine, on a cloudy day..." skips the rest of the verse and goes right into "I guess you'd say what can make me feel this way?  The tall white lady with the black dress and the pretty feet with the college degree."  He stops singing, looks right at me and says, "Honey, if you were my girl, we'd go back to my place and I'd serve you Kool-Aid.   We'd drink it out of mayonnaise jars."

And with that, he moved onto The Barney Song, sang a quick Feliz Navidad (which he pronounced Police Navidad), and then off he jumped to the 1 train. 

Guess I won't get that Kool Aid then.

Last Night at the Apollo

Brian scored some sweet tickets to Amateur Night at the Apollo, so at 7:30 last night we were seated at the historic theatre where the many notable entertainers, including Michael Jackson, Ella Fitzgerald and my fave Aretha Franklin got their start.  Ben Vereen was the host for the evening. 

I should back up and say the reason Brian scored the tickets was that his friend Darryl was competing in a show made up entirely of teachers from NYC schools.  And that the audience was primarily made up of their STUDENTS.

You may already know that the Apollo encourages audience participation-- if you like them, you clap.  If you don't, you boo, and a character/dancer/entertainer comes on and stops whoever is doing whatever and mocks them off-stage.   

Now, imagine the dynamic. High school teachers performing for high school students who have the power to boo them off-stage.

Ladies and Gentlemen, it was a blood bath.

A bluegrass band barely made it through its introduction.  Spoken word poets were seriously discouraged from even starting.   Tap dancers and a modern dance troop were summarily dismissed.   A woman came out and started singing Gershwin's 'Summertime' and I was fearful for her life.  She didn't even get through the first word before the whole place erupted in boos. 

The ones who did make it through were one absolutely amazing spoken word poet (I'd never seen good spoken word, and it is awesome!), one dance group that was so weird and strangely sexual that you just had to watch, an excellent saxophonist who had the strategic advantage of being able to drown everyone out by putting his sax to the microphone and saturating the audio sphere, a band who was ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE but sang  'Come to My Window' with such a piercing sound that you couldn't here anything for five minutes after, an old white guy who sang a bluesy song with references to drugs, sex and alcohol (which I guess made him cool), a girl who hoola-hooped (never seen it before: blacklight hoola-hooping), and Darryl.

Darryl is a young, smooth looking, immediately likable African American who sang 'Take it Slow' with a perfect touch.  Seriously, he was the only guy who walked on stage all night that I didn't brace myself for the terror to come-- he fit the venue, he chose music the kids knew and liked, his voice was amazing, and he knew how to perform.

And that's why he won.  At the end of the night, the audience cheers for who they want to win, and they wanted Darryl.  He now gets to compete for a chance at 10,000.  And I got to go home and listen to Bach.

Head Shots Here We Go

I've scheduled headshots with my new friend and amazing photographer Corey from church for the 13th.  Ironically, we're going to shoot on a Sunday instead of praising the Lord, but Corey says we should be done in time to go to the 5 o'clock.

I don't like getting my picture taken (Corey says most people don't).  And one has to prepare for said picture taking by engaging in two things I don't really like to do:  spending money and making definitive decisions about my appearance.  It's very vulnerable making.

Also, Corey really wanted to photograph me, partly because I look like I can really bring the heat-- intense, larger than life, putting it all out there Joanna.   Which I'm still trying to get comfortable with in my skin, and I always feel a bit silly about, even though I know a. It's why I'm attracted to opera in the first place and b. It's what will sell tickets to my shows, or what's going to get me hired.  I feel like I'm gonna fail, or look dumb.  But hey, it's just Corey, a camera, and me.  What's to fear?

So here we go--teeth whitening (the cheap kind), gym every day (why not), eyebrow waxing, clothes shopping, and trying to decide about makeup and hair. 

So, all my actor friends, you may be getting a phone call here pretty soon to talk strategy: clothes, hair, makeup and prices.  And, if you've got a funny story to share, I want to hear that too!

BBQs, dumpster diving and the pot smokers down the hall

Hello All!  I hope everyone had a lovely Memorial Day weekend.  I got to go bike riding in Central Park with Brian...

...where all the best of NYC frivolity and exhibitionism was on display, and went to a BBQ on Monday.  Saturday night I played the heroine at the Amore Opera company-- the Third Lady that was scheduled got sick, so I got called in at the last minute (well, 2 hours before curtain) to sing Third Lady in The Magic Flute.  After the show, I met up with Brian and his two friends to go hear The Renaldo The Ensemble-- quite a show.  If you're in NYC, we should go.

Today is back to singing and the mundanity of daily life.  Although it was fun to acquire two new pieces of furniture from the trash...

Paramount is shooting a movie up the street and their trucks are all over the place.  I confess, it made me a bit homesick for Los Angeles.

And finally, coming back into the building, I ran into the residential pot smoker.  The common hallways of my 7 floor apartment complex act as a chimney for all the fumage, so you can always tell when they're partying.  Good to finally put a face with the smell.  :D